The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1897-11-03

on Watson's land, but on that of
which Aunt Miranda had complete
ownership. The family moved in and
took possession. The law would make
short work of ejecting them, and for o
time Bessie's worries were over.
"Oh," she thought, YEARLY, 'if
that troublesome Watson boy would
only come home and look after his owD
property
She longed for the society of her
aunt as she had never done before, but
there was no way to get to her. Each
must stay and protect her adopted
claim. Bessie had not made q conf
dante of her aunt for fear that the
guileless soul would betray the secret.
Aunt Miranda'ss light shone clear
from the home window, and that was
some comfort. Bessie drew chair TO
the door, and prepared for q nights
vigil. She feared that her neighbors
might suspect the truth at any mo-
ment. If they did, they would move
upon Watson's land and assert posses
sion, and there could be n othing left for
her but surrender.
1t was O hot, thick night. The
doors and windows of the two houses
stood wide open. Bessie heard her
disagreeable neighbors grumbliug and
quarrelling. When at last they went
to bed, the silence was refreshing.
Perhaps the heat and stiffness made
the tired girl drowsy. Before she
knew it she was doing at her post,
though it was still early. A sudden
rap at the door recalled her to duty.
Her heart rose in her throat as she sat
listening in the darkness. The rap
was repeated.
"Who's there?" she asked, family.
For q moment no one answered;
then woman's voice replied in a po-
lite company tone, "It's me, Miss
Mirandy King"
Bessie threw the door wide open.
go auntiel" she gasped; then stopped
abruptly, and looked at the two peo-
pie beyond.
All of the little group were petrified
with astonishment. Aunt Miranda
was the first to find her voice. "What
are you doing here, Bessie?" she de-
manded
Tim just holding down John
Watson's claim" faltered the niece.
''Those people in your house came to
jump it,"
"God bless you, dearl" said gentle
voice. ''Tm Johns mother"
The young man was last to speak.
Even then his voice was husky. ''T'
thought we were homeless" he said,
slowly, "but you have been our saliva
ton. You see that man made out the
papers before he left town. All he
needed was possession"
They were so relieved that they all
tried to explain at once why John was
late, what Daddy had done, and how
Aunt Miranda had escorted the Wat
sons over to get the furniture from the
strangers. Probably no happier gath
ering ever assembled.
At daybreak next morning the little
party at Watson's looked out for their
disagreeable neighbors. They we're
nowhere in sight. Perhaps they had
at last become convinced of the real
situation. At all events they had dis
appeared. With them had gone Johns
plow and the family washing that Bes-
sic had hung out to dry.
"Good riddancep' commented John,
gratefully. 81 think we have come
out of this mighty cheap. And you
saved us, Bessie. Say, that was heap
ing Goals of fire on my head. I al
ways felt as if I'd kind of jumped your
claim"
"You needn't feel that way any
more. I've got all that out of my
heart at last" said Bessie.
eyes, yesl" cried Aunt Miranda.
'That's what folks always gain by
forgiving and being generous-their
own hearts feel good and light inside
'em. Youths Companion.