The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1896-07-29

time / first visited her, she had not
been out of the house, not even into
the dooryArd, for twenty years. She
lived alone in the big house at the
end OF the village street, her "hired
man" Jonah, who lived near by, do
ing all the outside work, and she, the
inside.
Twenty years before, when she was
about thir'samples of fall d . "pre.
sentiment, as she called it, that II
ever she went out something terrible
would happen to her. How this pre-
sentiment camo into her head / was
never just able to find out, nor in
just what form it came; but it GER
tainly came, and that was about all
that any one, herself included, al
ways fancied, ever knew of it. She
had had long sickness in which she
was often delirious, and it left heI
mind in that dazed condition which
takes impressions readily and holds
them firmly. When the full vigor oil
mind comes back, these impressions
have become so much n part OF the
mind that they cannot be cast aside
without effort. There had been nc
one to laugh Aunt Mehitable out oi
her "presentiment," end she herself
was not able TO argue it away so she
yielded, and it became q firm part OF
her mental existence.
remember Just how size looked in
the last days of her old-maidhood.
Not that che was ever really anything
but an old maid. She never married,
but she became 'just like other
folks" the townspeople said, and
therein paid her the greatest compli-
ment; for in that village "old maid
was term of opprobrium. She was
tall and pale aud thin; her naturally
fair complexion had been whitened
by long exclusion from the sun ana
wind. She had been pretty in her
youth, and there were traces of this
prettiness left, though her expression
had hardened with the advancing
years. She spoke slowly and not very
often, and she seldom smiled; but
when she did smile, her face was
transfgured with the sweetness of it.
that was in the fashion when she
secluded herself from the world. As
hoopskirts were then "in," she made
quaint figure twenty years after
ward when they were very much out
"out."
She was "p'ison neat" rs the ex-
preston went in the village, and her
house was, of course, "perfect wax,
work." /, myself, have many time
seen her go around with duEtpan and
brush after callers had left, sweeping
up the dirt, real or imaginary, that
they had tracked in. She was lonely
woman; she would not have a servant
nor pets-dogs she did not like, and
cats would make tracks on her kitchen
floor. The neighbors stood little in
awe of her queerness and her neatness,
and seldom ventured to call. 1 was
sorry for her lonely life and tried to
persuade her to have a servant, or O
pet of some sort--a cat, ut least; for
they are the most cleanly and neat oi
all animals; but no, she would not.
"WhY, George" she said, "d'you
. pObo L u uuNo Chb AOuuNg lllbGIln
up things oil the times an spoilin' my
floor? An then, they're aPays havin
kittens an sech things. I've got long
b. myself all these years, an / guess
ken keep on don so. What on airth
d'you want me to hev q cat for2"
"Why, because" answered; 81
think you must be lonesome all the
winter when Pm not around" / wa:
making her a visit that summer.
"Well," she replied, $50 be some
times; but l don't want no cati
round; they ain much comp'ny any
how. ] shall miss you powerful b0t
when you go but cat wouldn't make
up for you, now, would it?"
confessed that / didn't Just thinl
it would, but as long as she could NO
have me, she might take a cat-fol
half a loaf is better then no bread.
was determined to make Aunt Mehit
able keep a cat by some means or 9th
or, and, as luck would have it, wal
very soon enabled to do so.
One Sunday evening not long aftel
our talk l went to church. 1t wa
rainy night, and hitched the hors,
in the shed by the side of the church
When / went 10 unhitch him and ge
into the buggy, l felt something furry
and warm on the seat. BY the din
light of the church window l fount
that the fury object was a small anC