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

He could easily reach Bolton, as be con-
jectured, in time for the little, plain,
rustic funeral, when the eccentric, 81
lent old man would be laid away in a
grass corner of the Bolton burying
ground, where for many years board
sign had stood nailed to post and bear
ing the following legend: "This plot of
ground is reserved for Simon Hapgood
and his two wives, and no other corpse
is to be laid here. "
But Arthur Hapgood had no taste for
funerals, especially of the humber sort,
and it was not in his line to pay even
this external mark Of respect to the
memory of a queer old fellow who had
not adorned society nor added glory to
the family name, whose one admirable
act had been the act of dying intestate
and leaving all he was possessed to his
worthy nephew. Arthur therefore de-
ternined to loiter about Littlefield un-
til the funeral was we'll over, and then
without fuss or hurry to present himself
at the farmhouse in Bolton. Now, Ar
thur, as he strolled along under the
shade trees of Main street, took letter
it over 1t was written in neat girlish
hand, began with my dear sir" and
ended with "Yours respectfully" and
was signed with the pretty name of
Elsie Ray. 1t was written merely to in
form Mr.. Arthur Hapgood that his I'm
Gle Simon, having had third stroke Of
palsy, was in dying conditions; that as
no will had been found and as none
was believed to be in existence it was
thought best to inform the nearest rela-
tives of the facts detailed. Elsie Ray
had also added that Uncle Simon was
entirely speechless and had been so for
some months, and the end could not be
far distant.
Arthur Hapgood already knew that
Elsie Ray was Uncle Simon's great-niece
by marriage, and he conjectured that
she had played the part Of the old mans
housekeeper and nurse. Of course she
had not shadow of legal claim upon
him or the estate; but, though the little
note was penned in a stiff and formal
style, there was something in the neat
handwriting and i'll the pretty, girlish
name of Elsie Ray that excited his in
terest. Little Elsie, he said to himself,
if she is nice looking and attractive and
docile, we will see what can be done for
her.
Elsie Ray stood in the great farm
house kitchen at Bolton, the Hapgood
homestead, as it was called, for several
generations Of Hapgoods had lived and
died in that place. 1t seemed to her now
that the great chimney stack, and the
blackened beams overhead, and the pol
ished floor boards, and the smooth hearth
stone, where Uncle ST chair was drawn
up, must know that something had hap
pened they looked SO still and clean
and meditative, as if the old house were
remembering all the births and deaths
and changes and losses and crosses and
sorrows that had taken place under it's
aged roof. Elsie had stopped the great
clock in the corner and pulled down the
shades, and now she paused involuntari-
| ly to hear the tap of Uncle Sis thick
oak stick Oh the floor above. No; it
would never sound again. There was
something stark and white lying under
| the sheet in Uncle Sis chamber that
made her shiver slightly as she thought
| how she had laid it out with her own
hands.
Uncle 81 Hapgood had lived out his
life i'll his own peculiar fashion. He
was secrotive and silent by nature, and
it was the wonder of the .neighborhood
that he should have "buried" two
wives, and it is safe to say that his two
spouses who We're laid away in the
burying ground corner had never quite
fathomed Uncle ST. But still he had
kind heart in his odd, undemonstra-
| tive composition and took more pains
| to cover up his good deeds than others
do to make theirs known. He had
taken the orphan girl from the poor
place i'll the town when the widowed
mother had died and left her alone and
| had given her home and shelter and
such schooling as was to be had in Boil
ton and not littl0 affection of pecul-
lar kind, for Uncle ST was always half
ashamed of the soft places in his nature,
and nothing ever disturbed the shy, bash.
full man like acknowledgment of his
good deeds.
Now Uncle 81 was dead. He had
|
hold Of her warm little hand till he
cast off the lifeline to enter upon the
great mystery. 1t was all very strange
and solemn to Elsie and not a little
grewsome to think of Uncle 81 lying
stark on the bed where the palsy had
nailed him so long. The oak stick at
the headboard he would never use again
to summon his faithful nurse. Uncle
81 could not speak-his eyes only were
alive, but there was panied and pa
thetic look in them in those last hours,
and it seemed to Elsie, who tried to in.
terpret every least sign the old man
made. that he would have given worlds
to tell her something that lay ON his
heart and conscience. He pointed
vaguely with his trembling hand, even
while the gray death shadow was steal
ing over his face, to a corner of the
chamber, where. against the faded wall
paper, hung framed copy of the Decla-
ration of Independence, much fly speck-
ed, and above it mourning piece in a
black frame put up for his first wife,
Betsy Lee, and representing tall wom-
an with corkscrew curls, with her hand
kerchief to her eyes, bending over a
tombstone shaded by q painfully sym,
metrical weeping willow
Elsie had laid out Uncle ST, assisted
by Mrs. Mead capable neighbor, who
had now gone home to prepare supper
for bpr chi l6ran Inf had r1rOTnicod tO