Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1897-04-15


was child theH bat remem-
Der it. am child now, for that
matter; child 10 cay, a man 10
years; but | remember it all as
plainly as II it mad Son yesterday.
think we crippled1rsss have keener
memories than tbose Who share the
minds work With lii oaE
Aunt Meredith So.
- .,.....,.,,,....- -.
"a ny mother, htr vsns sister, and
ssIuole George. .hesplgass brother,
The brother t tendorly
discharged theiss bard her,
and Aunt Meredstlglgwr consci-
entious, felt thai sli ig,i1snse debt
was acoumulatipe agtins her; so
that, when my dying biother placed
my hand in hers, and With her last
breath said, CAS- have dealt with
you, Merry" there was but one
thing for Aunt Meredith to do.
She accepted the charge Of the lit
tie cripple committed to her care.
She was youHg then -just TWEEN
fy-and was soon to have been John
Eastmau's wife. When she bad ac.
cepted the new charge she sent for
her lover to tell him that the mar
riage must be postponed
lie protested, but Aunt Merry
vas firm Just one year, John.
she insisted. "1hen we shall be
better prepared 10 accept the new
charge.
She would not say burden. " but
it was harden to lay upon her
young shouldcrs--a cruel sacr.
fee to ask Of one who, having new.
or a home Of her own, was about
to step into that sweet peace which
f. found nowhere but about the
family trcside
But she did not hesitate "a am
only paying interest 81 the debt /
owe bis mother John | car never
hope 20 pay tho priueipai she
urged
John Eastman smoihered his die.
appointment, and said. ga shall be
IS You visb, Merry bat it will be
a very long year to me
Before the year ended Uncle
Georges wife died, and her two
children, Robert aud Annie, were
sdded to Aunt McrrY'a charge.
She hcsitatel when ncle George
came to ask her to come over and
take charge o. bis house
''No George" she SAID, 81 can
not.
"Jn8t little whilo, Merry" he
begged, "unt.l we can got things
in working order just one year -
Bnt there is John +" abe insist
ca Il owe something 70 John
"And TO no one else, Merry :"
asked Uncle George. What if
Eunicc aud had not cared for you
when sou were left alone ~
She turned pale when Uncle
George reminded her Of her obliga.
ton. After al, more would be ex.
/ pected Of her than the mere interest
upon her debt. Like many other
debts, whether Of money, Of graft.
tude, or Of affection, beers bad come
to face her at the mament when she
was The least prepare for it.
Her lips trembled when she at
tempted to speak; she put out hcI
/ hand az seeking some support
and rested il heavily upon tho back
of a chair
| can never forget that scene
( Boy as was, | realized that it wal
the sacrifice Of life. / lifted m,
poor twisted body upon my pillows
and from my corner watched thu
struggle my aunt was making.
Uncle George stood leaning
against the low manteI, looking
heavy-eyed and weary. Aunt Mer
ny stood before him, with her hanc
upon the tall chair. The younI
face was growing grave--the gir
had given place to woman.
While ] watched, the sunligh
crept through the open window an
crowned the brown braids OF hal
with kind of halo, just as the fire
light touches the silver ones tc
night. Then Aunt Merry LITE
her head and said softly, 81 wi
come, George. I"
So John Eastman was asked t
wait second time. "Just on
year yet, John" Aunt Merry bel