Savannah courier. (Savannah, Tenn.) 1885-1979, 1897-06-25

and place the furniture as it arrived
while Jack divided IN. services as need
cd, and Frances superIntended the
fitting from the old home.
While she worked her thoughts were
bitter. She would not have minded la
hor If it had led to anything, but all
their efforts were scarcely even soften
ing their fail. Year after year the fam
ily 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 school
last year to help at home, and Jack could
not continue after this term, but must
60 to work, as he had already had to
do in the vacations. Aud she had tried
so hard to let them keep ON little
longer. Jean was born teacher II she
could only be educated herself, and
Jack had many talents. But there was
nothing for them in life but drudgery
nothing for the youngest children but
the same.
And she-she could not leave them
when she was so needed. She, too, must
toll on hopelessly, and crush down all
natural longing for ease and bright
ness and girlish pleasures down
even love.
She fairly hated the costly old furni-
ture, even while she watched carefully
over its packing by the truckmeu, who
were inclined to be impertinent to her
about its weight and her care. Even
it could help them so much, IL only
they were allowed to sell it.
She got hasty dinner at noon for
the others, but was too heated and tired
| TO eat herself. 1t was not till mid
afternoon that the last load started Tor
the new house.
The trucllmen, who had evidently had
something stronger than coffee to drink
after dinner, and were in hurry to be
through, being paid by the job and not
the load, piled the things on recklessly
high. When Frances ventured to re-
monstrate, they were insolent.
Jack, with the protection of his in
cipient manhood, was at the other
house; she could only stand aside and
pretend not to notice the half-drunlSen
fellows muttered contempt for won.
ems and poor folks bossing.
The load was packed at last. The
crowning piece was the beautiful old
inlaid secretary that had been the pride
Of Miss Deborah's library. As the
horses moved under the whip and oath,
and the wagon started, making too
sharp turn into the road from Its
backed-up position opposite the front
gate, the secretary trembled on it's un-
steady perch = tottered - fell - and
crashed in pieces on the sidewalk.
The horses got another cut for their
awlkwardness, and without apology or
comment, the truckmen drove hastily
off. They were to be paid at the new
house, and they hoped to get their
money before news of their carelessness
reached there.
To Frances, overwrought as she was
in 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 Stedman saw her afar as he
came up the quiet, elm-shaded street,
and arrived on a run in his anxiety.
"My dearest girl! what are you do
ing?" cried he. Are you hurt, or what
has happened?"
He was going on his knees beside her,
but Frances stopped him by rising with
the dignity Of all the colonial Dam
fcrths, embodied in very small wom'
J an wearing faded calico dress and
large gingham apron.
Don't be alarmed, Dick" she said,
"and don't do the distracted Romeo out
here; for old Miss Wichitt has been
watching through her blinds all day
to see our things as they go, and she's
probably looking at you now. I'm
not hurt in the least, but my Grand
aunt Deborah's writing-desk has had an
accident and is q noble wreck in ruin
Gus perfection. Behold It'll" with a
: tragic gesture down at the ruins. "Who
could deny q tear to such literally fallen
GRANDEUR"
Very little could be done for 1T, evi'
dently. The heavy fall on the stones
had fairly split it in pieces. Its spindle
legs had sustained several compound
fractures; one side was in splinters
the shattered drawers had fallen out
) and bits of delicate inlaying lay all
about the pavement.
Dick went on piling the pieces
methodically at one side; then moving
the main part, picked up some papers
and rose to give them to Frances.
"Your letters will be blowing all
about the street if you don't take care,
/, he said.
Letters? There were none in the
desk. No one has used 1t since my
prand-aunt did. These must be some
. of hers, crowded out of a drawer and
: in behind the frame somehow. 1t cam
be any harm to SEQ what they hre
though, l suppose"
She umfolded them as she spoke
. There was an unimportant receiptet
!. bill or two, n tax assessment Of the yeal
Miss Deborah died, then q cracking
. legal-looking sheet of parchment.
Z II, Deborah Daniorth, do make ant
: publish this my last will and testa
9 ment," read Frances. "Dicls, it must b
1T can't bet is another will of hers
s land in my fathers fayorl And 1t il
e dated after the one that disinheritet
+ him!"
!, Tho Danforths moved once more be
fore that spring had deepencd into sum
4 nier. Zebedee Smith was an homes
t man, II hard one, and the new-fount
will was unimpeachable.
o He did not attempt to resist it, ant
o Mr.. Danforth was liberal TO him in talk
/ ing back his own. And the Danforth
J. moved into Miss Debomh's stately oil