The Weiser signal. [volume] (Weiser, Idaho) 1890-1904, 1897-07-15

md already well-to-do cousin. Zcbedeo
smith by rame.
Mr.. Dalfcrth had philosophically nc
,cpted the situation and the furniture.
cling Off the commoner things be a
ready had to settle some bills Of ] rg-
landing with the proceeds, and crowd
ng his small rooms with the richest o.
.arvcd oak and mahogany, most OF
which was presently still further dec
grated by the jacll<nivcs and boo<heels
Of his irreprcssiblc boys.
Mr.. Smith bad likewise used his
legacy to the best advantage, and made
considerable merit of soon after accom-
molating his Danforth cousins with Il
loan on their homestead.
The next day was ore of storm and
stress to Frances, on whom the weight
Of the household burdens always fell.
MIR. Dnnforth, of course, had to 20 to
the office, and Mrs. Danforth retired to
friends house with her usual head
ache, before the moving had fairly be-
run. Frances and her evcr-fathful
'i"rfcr' Jack ard Jean. the 15-vear.
old twins, were lett to deal with the at
foir, devoutly desiring to be spared the
assistance of the four younger children,
safely dispatched to school, who rev
eled in confusion dixie petrels in u tenn
pest, but had small idea of work.
Jean, the wise and womanly, went on
TO the new house that the three had
cleaned the day before, to look after
and place the furniture as it rived,
while Jack divided his services as reed.
ed, and Frances superintendent the
fitting from the old home.
While she worked her thoughts were
bitter. She would not have minded la
Dor if it had led to anything, but all
their efforts were scarcely even soften
ing their fail. Year after year the fam
lily was slipping down. The younger
ones were growing up to harder times,
less advantages, than even she had had.
Jean had been obliged to leave schoo
lest year to help at home, and Jack could
not continue after this term, but mus,
20 to work, as he had already had t.
do in the vacations. Aud she had tried
so hard TO let them keep ON little
longer. jean was : born teacher, if she
cor-l only be educated herself, and
Jack had many talents. But there was
nothing for them in lie but diudgcry
nothing for the youngest children but
the same.
And she--she could not leave them
wheA She vas 50 needed. She, too, ust
toll on hol7elessly, and crush down all
natural longing for case and fright
cess and girlish pleasures--crush down
even love.
She fairly hated t'ie costly old furni-
,,irc, even while she watched carefully
over its packing by the trucnmeu, who
we're inclined to bc impertincLt to her
about its weight and her care. Even
it could help them so much, ii only
they were allowed to sell it.
She got a hasty dinner at noon for
the others, but was too heated and tired
10 cat herself. 1t was not till mid
afternoon that the last load started fol
the new house.
The trucl,men, Tho had evidently had
something stronger than coffee to drink
after dinner, and were in a. hurry @ be
through, being paid by the job aad nor
the load, piled the things on recklessly
high. When Frances ventured to re-
monstrate, they were insolent.
Jack, with the protection of his in
cipicnt manhood was at the other
house; she could or1y stand aside and
pretend not TO notice the half-drunheu
fellows muttercd contempt for won
EMS and poor folks bossing.
The load was packed ut last. The
browning piece was the beautiful old
inlaid secretary that had heen the pride
Of Miss Dcborah's library. AS the
horses moved under the whip and oath,
and the wagon started, making q too |
sharp turn into the read from its
hacked-up position opposite tine front
gate, the secretary tremblcd On it's I'M
steady perch - tottered - fell - and |
crashed in pieces on the sidewalk
Tho horses got another cut for their
awkwardness, and without apology or
comment, the truckmen drove hastily |
off. They were to be paid at the pew
house, aud they hoped TO get their
money before news of their carelessness
reached there.
To Frances, overweight as she was
III mind and body, the accident seemed |
the last stroke of fate. She sat down |
among the ruins and cried, with her
apron to her eyes, careless who might |
see her.
Dick Stcdman saw her nfar as he |
came up the quiet, elm shaded street,
and arrived on n run in his anxiety.
MY dearest girl. what are you do
ing?" cried he. Are you hurt, or what |
has haPpencd?"
He was going on his knees beside her,
but Frances stopped him by risirg with
tie dignity OF all the colonial Dan-
lcrths, embodied in a very small won
al wearing a faded calico dress and
argc gingham apron.
Don't lie alarmed, Dick" she said,
and don't do the distracted Ron 60 on,
acre; for old Miss Wichitt has beel
y atching through her blinds all la,
roo on ihirn-s % thcv ~. and shr'