The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1895-02-15

longed tc the old sisters. Some of it
had come down from the great Governor
bingham, their ancestor, of colonial
fame, and was garnished with brasses
and claw feet and quaint carvings that
would have filled the soul of an anti
quarry with delight The governors
portrait, i'll full bottomed wig, with
shirt ruffles, hung against the chimney
piece over the bingham coat of arms
and was the pride and glory of the keep
ing room.
A high post bed, with fringed dimity.
tester, stood i'll the east and west cor
ners of the room. In the daytime they
presented the appearance of two symmet-
real mounds OF feathers covered with
album quilts, pieced by the old ladies in
their youth, and curtained below with
flowing white valances. The old wom-
on had each her own things, her own
ways, her own corners and cubbies.
She never encroached on her sisters
domain. They even at times cooked
their own little messes on their own
part of the kitchen fire, which they ate
each on her own side of the table. Miss
Prissy had a blue teapot and Miss
Hetty q brown one, and there were sepa-
rate tea caddies, for Prissy abhorred
Oolong, while Hetty dotted on it. Aunt
Prissy kept Maltese cat, while Hetty's
was yellow, and the tabbies always lay
on their own corner of the rug and lap.
ped milk out of separate saucers.
Uncle ST INDUCED the old women in
all their little whims and fancies, for,
as he always said, with q sly wink,
''there's nothing like letting folks have
their own way if a body's to live in
peace and quietness. But, though the
two old sisters were so sturdily individ-
ual about trifes there were singular
bonds of sympathy between thom, as is
apt to be the case with people who have
lived together all their lives. Aunt
Prissy and Aunt Hetty were unit as
to tho great dignity and distinction of
the bingham family, descended from
the colonial governor whose faded por-
trait graced their chimney piece They
were also one on the subject Of Sister
Nancy's condescension in marrying
plain Simon Hapgood, and on the honor
tiSy lStNt tOliO SStlNi AOIliOll III Sll1ON1ISo
HIM to feed and shelter them in their
old age. They were one, too, in their
bodily sensations, for when Prissy felt
shooting pains in her right arm Hetty
was almost sure to feel them in her left
and when one took to her bed from any
cause whatever the other was sure to
follow in few hours.
Now they were both very low over
the death Of Uncle 81, for in spite Of
these pretcnsions they were tenLer
hearted, simple old creatures. Cataracts
We're coming over both of Prissy's aged
eyes, and she had injured herself with
weeping. Poor old Hetty's grief had in
creased her deafness to an alarming
point. Elsie had just put them to bed
like two babies, tucking each one up
under her album quilt. They wore
nightcaps, with broad starched ruffies
and muslin bows on top, and lying in
bed under the tester the bows stood
up above the pillow like the ears of q
white rabbit, and under them were the
withered up faces, now clouded with
grief,
The house was quiet save for a death
watch ticking away in the wall that
seemed to thrill every fiber of the wood
work. Elsie was half afraid to stay
there with that something overhead that
was no longer Uncle ST. She opened
the door and stepped ont to the warm,
breathing world and shut it softly be-
hind her. The light was low and made
ruddy, golden glow over the fields.
The wind was in her hair and lifted the
little tresses off her forehead and waved
the little locks about her neck. Elsie's
face was picturesque rather than beau
tiful. The upper teeth pushed out the
red lip ever so little, and the nose was
slightly retrousse. The forehead was
broad and low, and the brown eyes full
Of loving, ardent light. Her form was
light, elegant and agile, equal to much
fatigue, made for endurance, but al
most perfect in its graceful lines. She
was country bred and had the elastic
step that flies over the ground with
swish of the skirts and the motion of
swallow skimming low Her tint was
brown from much exposure to sun, and
a slight glow came through the healthy
tanned check, while the thick curly hair
was ruffled ON her head like the breast
of bird ON windy day. There was
something birdlike, too, in the quick
glance of her eye.
Now Elsie skipped to the top of lit
tie knoll and looked down the road to.
ward the town to watch for Paul Ray
nor, who had taken the old gray horse
and chaise to summon the Littlefield
undertaken and was to advertise the fu-
neral at Bolton, small hamlet half
mile from the farm. The road stretched
away quite lonely and treeless, white
with dust and with flock of yellow
butterflies chasing up and down over
the wayside thistles. The smoke was
going up from Mrs. Deans chimney
down the road among the maple trees,
and the fields of growing grass and
grain lay in an enchanted silence
There were beehives on the little hill
behind a row Of struggling currant and
gooseberry bushes and backed by an
aged orchard of moss grown trees. Un-
Gle 81 had been fond of his bees, and
Elsie was not afraid of their stings. The
old man had taught her to handle a
swarm, and they would sometimes light
on her hands from pure friendliness
Now Elsie Went close to the hives, and
when the bees came buzzing about her
she whispered to them as her eyes filled
with tears, "Uncle 81 is dead" She
had brought a scrap of black ribbon in
ehA 10 1.