The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1895-05-08
IN AN OLD ATTIC.
The Many Quaint Treasures Of the Olden
{. Time 1t Contained.

sAAo N'A~"S >Setsiho OA WIG olucu
+. Time 1t Contained.
Yesterday. I found a delightful
book, and of course it was in an at
tic. Our ancestors may not have
stored things in attics expressly to
have us discover them, but we con-
tinue to do so from time to time, and
they are undoubtedly moro interest
ing from being a bit cobwebby and
mysterious. The attic in which /
found the delicious book had in it
hidden things which looked as If
they might be the first patterns Of
everything we use now. Probably
the most desirable trait about this
attic was that it did not possess a
place for anything Or anything in
it's place. .
For instance, / found a bonnet
hanging on pair of andirons.
But for the green silk strings no
one would ever dream it was bon
net. Itlooked much more like q coal
scuttle and had as many enormous
bones as q prehistoric SKELETON. 1t
must have belonged to u very great
grandmother. No one without sew
eral greats before her name could
have worn that bennett Behind tho
andirons was cradle, and in the
cradle was long pole with red
silk arrangement which once meant
q fire screen. Beside it stood clock,
with a moon face and long chains
and weights. It looked so much like
Dutch doll, with just head and
legs, that I laughed aloud. But an
attic is not q place in which to laugh
unless one has company. Everything
was rebukingly still, and SO was I
Immediately.
Near the clock was a table shaped
like long legged spider. 1t looked
as if just ready to walk off alone. l
was quite sure it belonged to the
bonnet and tho fire screen, and that
somewhere there were blue cups and
saucers, which one might break by
talking too loud, and that they be-
longed to the table.
In far corner stood picture
with it's face to the wall.
drew it out and rested it against
the table. OF course it was dusty. l
never hoard of the right sort of an
attic which was kept busted. 1t was
the picture of q lady. I knew that at
once, just as we always know a lady
when We see one. The picture was
rather dim, but I could easily dis
Germ that she was young and slim,
with white throat and bright, dark
eyes. Her hair, done very high, was
of ruddy brown, and she had on a
short wasted white satin frock, and
held half open fan pri,nly in her
hands.
It was easy to soc that she was
Just whore she belonged-beside the
spider legged table. I had no doubt
that she could have told the where
| abouts of the blue cups and saucers.
Thinking about this lady, my eyes
encountered another pair of eyes
staring straight at nine. My heart
jumped once and stood still until l
recognized the eyes as my own.
Twas gazing into amirror. 1t was
q dim, queer mirror, with a crack
like an enormous smile across its
face and pale enough to hold only
the ghost of light which once shone
in it. Two rods supported it. They
held a brass candlestick apiece and
rested on little stand which had a
drawer. I sat down on hair trunk
before this letter stand. The drawer
had brass knobs and might have been
locked once, but time Or rust made
it open easily, and then-such an as,
sortment of odds and ends! Faded
ribbons and flowers and beads and a
feather fan, which, when I opened
it, filled the air with a 1nusty dust
that made me sneeze! Under these
scraps was q box, and under the box
was q book-the book. The Black
Duck" by Virginia ". Cloud, in St