Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1897-04-22
AUNT MEREDITH.

ever made"
/ From my lounge in the corner OF
Aunt Meredith's room / watch her
with half-closed eyes as she draws
her low chair before the fire, and
takes her knitting from the work
basket at her side. She IL always
busy it seems to me, and when /
think of it, we sir are enough to
make work with her.
First, there is Uncle Clay, Aunt
! Meredith > bfother, faIl u hoBbies
that require her constant attention.
ssIf | can only prove its worth
lessness before he mounts it, / can
save him a good deal of trouble, !"
she says, when a new hobby is pre-
sented; and often she succeeds.
And there is Robert, just start
ing out for himself under Aunt
Meredith's special guidance. There
is Frank, another nephew, gener-
ous and impulsive-a regular tihd-
er-box in temper-with May, his
sister, always ready, in her love for
teasing, to put the match to the
tinder- box.
And there is Richard-happy,
rollicking Richard, of whom Aunt
Meredith is never quite sure until
she has herself tucked him in bed
and sung him to sleep.
Then here am I; a cripple, de-
pendent upon Aunt Meredith for
every ray of sunshine that has crept
into my poor MANNED existence
since the day l opened my eyes to
the life which, but for her, might
indeed have proved a curse for me.
So there are six of us, all under
her care.
She thinks / am asleep, or else
she would not have spoken of that
fatal mistake which affected the
current Of so many lives.
The freight plays upon her nee
dies as she patiently plies them.
The blaze rises higher, and forms,
as she sits oustined against it, sort
Or halo about her gray head.
She is thinking of the past, l
know, and that mistake while
she sits there waiting.
Robert is doing some extra book
keeping. and will not be in until
ten o'clock. May and Frank are
busy with their lessons in the sit
ting room. Uncle Clay rode over
to Richland today, and did not re
turn until late. Richard is asleep,
for heard Amt Meredith singing
Crock of Ages" in the boys room
more than half an hour before she
went down to get Uncle Clay his
supper.
While she sits waiting for the
last one of the household to come
in, am lying here thinking over
that mistake she made.
Indeed, often think of it. We
cripples have so little else to do ex-
cept to study books and people, and
all these tedious years | have stud
led her until / think know her
great soul by heart. And i know
all about that "sad mistake" al
though she does not dream that it
is known to me. IL were to tell
her that | learned from her own
lips to call it mistake" / am
sure that she would think the af-
Fiction that dwarfed and tortured
my body for almost forty years has
attacked my mind as well. for she
does not really look upon it as a
blnnder.
Ii she ever allows herself to think
of it as such, it is only when she is
troubled and tired, and her thoughts
/ go crowding back, to fasten them
selves upon the highest spot in the
past.
Such moments come to the brav-
est and best of as. But heard
Amt Meredith tell Uncle Clay only
last night "that there can be no
blunders in Gods plan;'' and If
she can stand up so grandly amid
the ruins of youths promises and
testify to the perfection Of the eter-
! nal plan, few indeed have the right
to sit in Judgment on it.
I feel the warm tears trickling
down my cheeks as watch the fig
ure in the fireligfft. can remem-
Der the day when this white-haired
woman, knitting stockings in the
chimney corner, was the inerriest
girl in our village.
"And the handsomest one" peo-
pIe said. "And the hest ona ,,