Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1894-05-11

"What is that is troubling Aunty
Tim?" asked Ruthy, the second night
after her arrival Miss Timbrook had
retired, and Miss Cynthia had Ruby
all to herself. She therefore snatched
at the opportunity of freeing her
mind
''You |" said Miss Cynthia, solemn
ly. ''Sybilla Tins just counted bn
you for comfort, to say nothing of
helping with the bonnets. And her
spirit is broke now she knows you
amt to be depended upon"
"Why, how 500" asked Ruthy, as
tonished at this personal criticism.
''How sol' echoed Miss Cynthia.
"You can see for yourself that the
business has all gone to pieces. Why;
the Kingsburys and the Lennoxes and
the Fairfields haven't ordefed a BONNET
from us for an age Old Judge Peters s
widow is the only one of the old Gus
toners that has stood by us. And |
presume it's sheer pity that makes her.
Besides, it amt possible to make a
mourning bonnet bomelier than it nat
urally is Well, I guess to shut up
shop is about all that's left for Sybilla
Tim and me. :"
Miss Cynthia sighed and then van
ished, hoping her remarks would make
Ruthy unhappy.
The young girl sat still awhile, try
ing to reconcile the desire of her
heart with q growing sense of disagree
able duty. She was ruther stunned
by the fact that Aunty Tins need of
hef and longing for her had never oc-
CURED to her before: The stiff, old
fashioned letters which had been re-
ceived from her aunt with pathetic
regularity had conveyed to her no
idea of the yearning of the loving
heart and Aunty Tim had permitted
the hope of years to be dashed to the
ground without murmef.
Ruthy went to bed very soberly.
Her darling ambition vas far from
quenched, although she was deeply
touched by her aunt's unselfshness.
On other nights she had lain awake
picturing to herself the aesthetic side
of life devoted to art. There were
lively dreams of the "cute" little
apartment in the tall Studio Building
in New York which she was to share
with Miss Dilloway, an elderly artist
friend, who was a successful illustrator
of magazines.
Ruthy meant to work like a Trojan,
of course; but when one was not work
ing what Joy to inhabit such charm
ing rooms with their gay artist trap
pings, where there was such a darling
of tea table with fairylike cups and
saucers, to say not ling of brass
kettle ready at any moment to brew a
real Bohemian cup of tea! And q
couch with such tremendous pillows,
and the funniest closets where all sorts
of things were artfully tucked away !
Makeshifts there might be, but the
odious ugliness of uncultured poverty
would, happily, be always missing.
But tonight these fascinating
dreams were extinguished by the
homely details of Aunty Tins forlorn
bonnet shop, and by that awful gap
in "the business which she knew
co,i Il only be filed by herself.
That she was born milliner she
was at that moment too painfully
aware. Her artistic instincts would
serve her iii the making of d bonnet
as well DIS in the painting of a picture.
But how could she give up her heart s
desire; which was the ''open door" to
her of all things beautiful, just to add
touch of beauty to two homely old
lives
Ruthy turned restlessly on her pill
low. The "open door" which an
artistic career seemed to offer her was
persistetitly flung back in her mind
by Charles Kingsley's imaginary old
lady, "Mrs. Do-as-you would-be-done
by" who had evidently come to stay
until matters were adjusted more to
her liking.
At last, Ruthy could endure "Mrs
Do-as- you would be-done-by's" So
ciety no longer, and with an i'm
patient sigh she jumped out of bed and
carefully felt her way to the chamber
across the hall. A second later, Miss
Cynthia's blood ran cold as she was
reused from peaceful dreams by a
sharp shake of her shoulders.
Lawful sakes - chartered the good
lady. els the house afire, or has the
dam given away"
Ssh no. It's l." said Ruthy,
softly. ~ want to talk to you"
"Aint the days long enough?" in
terrupted Miss Cynthia, GROSSLY.
Listen /" and Ruthy put her rosy
mouth to Miss Cynthia's wrinkled ear
and whispered mysteriously.
"You do beat all - said Miss Gym
thia, admiringly, when she at last mas
tered the situation, and was capable
of doing some whispering on her own
account Then, like two conspirators,
they exchanged VOWS of secrecy, and
Ruthy stole back to her bed
Next morning Miss Cynthia seemed
trife more acid than usual, and the
minute she had swallowed her break
fast she delivered herself of the follow
ing:
Seems to me, Sybilla Tim, you
haven't done your duty by Rastus's
folks. Here's 'Rastus been dead four
months. an 'Rastuss widow probably
worn to shadow through mournin'
an hard work, and that youngest
child having fits, and you, own cousin
to 'Rastus, have never been to Penn
broke Corners to see his folks since