Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1896-09-12

that evening. If she didn't he should
fetch her. And to make sure of hav.
ing her he carried off the big scrap
book.
Mrs. Peter Battersby did something
else before she left No. 49,
Together with her disappointed son
and darling Walter, she climbed the
stairs to Joan's little attic, and took u
hammer with her.
"It's the very kind of spiteful thing
he'd be likely to do" she said, "but
I'll not stand it-robbing his own flesh
and blood for workhouse brat"
Mr.. Peter left her to her own de.
vices. He, Mr.. Craven, and the three
vexed (Indeed, insulted) girls went
away together.
Then Mrs. Peter stu diously searched
Joan's attic from wall to wall. She
turned out the girls one tin box,
looked in the drawer of the wash
stand, ripped up the palliasse out.
rngeously and threw the straw all
about and treated the bolster with
equal brutality.
There was also handsome old oak
wardrobe that would have graced even
royal bedchamber. This was for
Joan's three or four poor frocks.
1t was quite laughable to see how
mother ana son tapped and probed
this antique piece of furniture. They
ovov l. nooLod IF t1,o booJ of n l;or -
relief at the top OF it, to see if there
was secret cavity behind the head.
But the wardrobe taught them no
more than the palliasse and the boil
ster.
"Well, I'm off to the Hen and
Chickens" said Walter Battersby at
length. GIVE had enough of this"
So, too, had Mrs. Peter, for there
was not an article in the room that sho
had not thoroughly tested.
The sun was still we'll above the
cemetery hill when Seth called at No.
SO, in his workaday CRIME and his
workaday grease.
cart ready, my lass9" he inquired
of Joan.
The girl began to make excuses.
"1ts not right, Seth, to leave the
house with no one in it. He wouldn't
have liked it," she said.
'It's not right, Joan, to make q
promise and not keep It," retorted
Seth. "Come, now, I'm not going to
leave you to NOPE your eyes out. Do
you mean to make me marry you?"
She was persuaded with difficulty.
Then it was revelation of charac.
ter to see how she locked one door Of
ter another and pocketed the different
keys.
"Anybody 'ud think the things were
all yourn, JOAN" said Seth admir-
ngly.
'lt's the same to me as if they
were," she answered, with the tone of
fresh tears.
But Seth hurried her off before she
could break down again, and soon had
her in the little red brick cottage he
shared with his mother.
Old Mrs. Perry had, in her younger
days, been a servant herself. She had
u true woman's sympathy for Joan,
and discernment enough to know that
her son might do far worse than marry
such girl.
1t was as comfortable meal as any
in Moxford, with the cat purring on
the hearth all time.
Afterward the talk turned solidly
upon old Carmel and his singular be.
quests to Joan.
"The money and the furniture III
be useful to you, child" said old
Mrs. Perry; shut the idea of leaving
you thing like that - pointing to the
scrap book.
81 used to be so fond OF it," STAN.
mered Joan. "Tbe times we've sat to
gether, him FASTING and me cutting
what he'd marked |"
She rose and lifted the big book on
the table, united its strings, and
opened it.
'Why, what's this?" exclaimed
Seth, rs a bank note for f1OO ap.
peared.