The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1894-01-24

the death OF me yet" said Col Ezra
Preston with "A humorous sigh, as he
stood at his back porch shaking crumbs
out of the morning newspaper, to the
delight of a brood of doves gathered
about his feet. The crumbs were the
remains of late breakfast, and the
San Diego Union had serV ed the colonel
as a sort Of literary tablecloth He en-
joyed his oatmeal and eggs all the better
when well seasoned with the news of
the day. lie might have spread his
feast on fine fringed linen. which lay
following in his bureau at the right
hand Of the third drawer from the top;
but ne had sentimental scruples against
using IL. and. besides linen requires
laundering and economy was an object
to the colonel.
A thoughtful smile fingered about his
mouth as he folded the newspaper and
laid It on the porch step ready for lit
tie Josie Alden. who would call for II
presently and take il to her grandfather.
The smile, though full of kindness, had
no reference to little Josie or the bed
ridden old man on whom Col Preston
bestowed so many favors; it was mere
" a reminiscent smile, and beamed
equally on the fower-garden. the cat
and dog. and the beehives under the lime
trees.
There's not another garden in San
Diego so fine as mine for the size. Per
heps it's because I've put so much
feeling into it, as the artists say Of a
picture. How often l think of that little
speech of Margarets, Give me neither
poverty nor riches but give me flowers
Dear girl she would be well pleased if
she could look around here now and see
what a spread I've made! And who
knows but she does?'
The reminiscent smile softened. The
past was not dead; it was alive and
young He was thinking of the wife OF
his youth. Of the flowerbeds bOrdered
with forget-me-nots that once blOomed
before a neat brick house in the good
old state Of Maine.
What she'd notice first would be
these marguerites that / set out because
/ like the name, and because the bios
SONS the same they have back East
that she loved and called daisies. What
would she say TO picking daisies OIL a
little tree with trunk as big around
as her wrist? She used to roam the
fields for them and come home with
her apron fun when we lived IN our
naw brick house"
How far on how long ago it seemed.
That house was still standing. He had
ridden past it ten years ago come next
July. Just few DAYS before he packed
his few belongings and Jared forth 10
CaHflrnia-the same house with dark
green blinds and doorstone Of Dodln
granite bur the cherished cedar hedge
had degenevated into six tail plCbeian
cedar trees. and the birds Of the air
lodged In the branches thereof.
Mr. MCIntire took a deal of pains to
spoil our hedge" thought Col. Preston.
And the picket fence we meant to pull
down ne had TO save that and paint il
red. white and blue 10 show his patriot
IL I rar.fr how 81 tn
that
What Margaret would have said it was
useless 10 inquire. She had been lying
for thirty-ffve years under the grass and
SHOWS IF the buryiug ground on Wood
side hill. The little daughter who might
have become a solace to the bereaVed
husband was lying there, TOO, on her
mothers bosom.
Maybe 1 could have borne it better if
the baby had lived; but To lose them
both within ten daysi Well, ii broke me
up. there's no denying it. / ought TO
have had more courage, so my brother,
the judge. always said. He had the
courage himself TO marry three times.
The third time it was probably from the
force Of habit, and ] never wondered so
very much at that. But the second mar
riage did surprise me; / couldn't under
stand it, perhaps on account of my linn
tied nature"
As the colonel said that with benign
humility he glanced toward an elegant
mansion ON neighbOring hill, where
Judge Preston lived in a kind of treble
singleneSs. two gentle old lady relatives
waiting on his nod and ministering TO
his ease and comfort
IT'S worth a mine Of diamonds to him
having the auntS there. But anyway
he's made Of better stuff than am. and
he knows it, though he never seems To be
ashamed of me for all that. bless, him.,
After A wistful, lingering gaze at the
mansion and at the southern horizon.
where the Cuyamaca mountains touch
the sky with misty blue, the colonel
turned and entered his own premises by
the back door.
The cottage was large enough for his
small wants; he never wished it larger;
four gOod-sized rooms and two pOrches;
what more could be required for four
occupants-hmsel the cat, dog and
canary? Still il was quite unworthy of
the land II stood on. which was a gener-
Gus double lot on high lakeland, one of
the finest sites in town. And the house
seemed TO shrink in size as the trees
kept growing from year to year. There
was quite a hOurishing lemon grove at
the north. where the distant view could
be cut off with the slightest sacrifice.
The colonel cared first for scenery, next
for horticulture and last Of all for that
insignificant item, building made for
shelter.
This porch is pretty well Uttered with
my traps said he. stepping over a pair
OF Overalls, a. coil of rope and a broken
pitcher on his way TO the kitchen Il
hope Aunt Pope won't happen in before
I tidy up a bit"
Aunt Pope was the lady paramount Of
his brothers home, with an appalling
sense Of neatness and order.
Taking out a tiny pan from under the
table, the masculine hOusekeeper pro-
ceeded TO wash his dishes. Sometimes
he washed them in the yellow mixing
bowl, but that CHANGED just now TO be
pre-empted by some milk. He usually
wiped them on a piece of blue and white
Bingham or the remains OF a flour bag
and always put them away wherever
most convenient, often on she cup
board shelves, oftener in a basket under
the gasoline stove. There is pleasant
discipline in yielding to circumstances,
charm in having to hunt for things.
Life needs variety. If what you seek
IS always in one spot. where, pray, is
the interest or excitement in doing your
work? The colonels housekeeping was
fun Of experiments and surprises and
kept him we'll entertained.
Before the oatmeal kettle had been
disposed of there was a playful knock
at the open porch door, and without
waiting for an answer in rolled the ex-
cellent Mrs. Louisa Sill, the judges
aunt-in-law, with kindly, sympathetic
old face, and a figure like bag Of
beans. Miss Pussy-Po. the cat sus-
pended her froIic with Spark the dog