The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1895-08-07

sparkling eyes. 81 will try IL ]"
"You can do anything, my dear II
said Mr.. Bellenden, admiringly.
And Lucy felt that she had her rich
reward.
Company began to come as soon as
the bright weather set in.
All the nffectionate relations of Mr..
Bellenden soon discovered that the
farmhouse was cool and shady, that
Lucy s cooking was excellent, and that
! the bedrooms we're neatness itself.
Some of them we're even good enough
to invite their relations as we'll, and so
the house was full from April to De.
cember.
All the clergymeu made it their
home at Brother Bellenden's when
they came to Silvan Bridge for ecclesi-
astical conventions; all the agents
for unheard-of articles discovered that
they knew somebody who was ao-
quainted with the Bellendens, and
brought their carpet-bags and valises,
with that faith in human hospitality
which is one of life's best gifts.
Mrs. Bellenden's fame went abroad
among the Decreases of the neighbor.
hood in the matter of butter and
cheese. She took prizes in the do
mestic department of all the agricul-
tural fairs, and the adjoining house
wives took no trouble to make things
that they could borrow of Mrs. Bel
lendeD, 'just as well as not"
And one day, when poor Lucy, un-
der the blighting influence of horri-
bic sick headache, was endeavoring to
strain three oI four gallons of milk
into the shining pans, the news ar
rived that Uncle Paul was coming to
the farm.
"Another guestl" said Lucy, de-
spniringly.
And then she uttered the proven b
that heads our sketch.
ooh, it's only Uncle Paul |" said
Mr.. Bellenden. "Don't fret, Lutte !;
he's the most peaceable old gentleman
in the world. He'll make no IN ore
trouble than q cricket. Johns wife
thought she couldn't have him, be-
cause she has no hired girl just now"
"Neither have II" said Lucy, re-
beliously.
"And Sarah Eliza don't like COM
pany."
81 am supposed to be fond of It'll"
observed Lucy, bitterly.
'And Reube2's girls don't want old
folks staying tbere. It's too much
trouble, they say" added Seth.
Lucy bit her lip to keep back the
words she might have uttered, and
said, instead:
"Where is he to sleep? The Bel
fords have the front bedroom, and
your Cousin Susan occupies the back,
and the four Miss PPttersons sleep In
the two hall chambers, and the hired
men have the garret room"
She might have added that she aud
her husband and the baby had slept in
u hot little den opening from the kit
chen for four weeks, vainly expecting
Mr.. and Mrs. Belford to depart, and
that she had never yet had a chance
to invite her father to the farm in
pleasant weather.
But she was magnanimous and held
her peace.
''Ob, you can find some place for
him !" said her husband, lightly.
"There's that little room at the end
of the hall where the spinning wheel
is.
"But it isn't furnished?" pleaded
Lucy.
"You can easily sew carpet to.
gether out of those old pieces from
the Bedfords' room, and it's no trouble
to put up muslin curtain to the win
dow and lift in cot-bed. There are
plenty of good sweet husks in the
corn'h house, and you can just tack to.
gether a mattress and whitewash the
ceiling, and What's that, Beniah
The cows in the rye lot! Dear me
Everything goes wrong if 1 step into
the house for moment. And really,
Lutte, these things are your business
not mine!" he added. irritably.
Lucy could not help laughing, all
by herself, as her husband ran up the
steps.
But it was very sad little laugh,
and soon changed into sigh.
81 wonder" said she, in whisper,
"if my poor, tired-out ghost would
haunt these stone pavements and
scrubbed shelves if were to die? 1
never heard of ghost in u dairy be-
fore, but should think that it might
easily be-.
But the little bedroom was filled up
for all that, as fresh as n rose, and
Uncle Paul arrived, dried-up, yell
low-complexioned old man, with an
old-fashioned cravat tied in many folds
al ound his neck, aud suit of navy
blue, with brass buttons.
He had the polite way of half
century ago, and Lucy thought she
should like him very much, if only
she had time to get acquainted with
him.
But she was churning ten pounds of
butter day, and there was the baby,
and the company, and the young
chickens, and the baking to do for the
sewing society, which was to meet at
her house this week.
She was almost too busy to sleep.
But Uncle Paul was watching her
quietly all the time.
He came out one day to the barn,
where his nephew was putting new
handle on a sickle blade.
"Pretty busy times, eh, Uncle
Paul" said the farmer, scarcely taking
tLo leisure to look up.
"Aye," absently answered the old !
man. "Did tell you, Nephew Seth,