Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1898-09-15

shattered for a moment the reserve
Of years--she threw her thin little
arms around my neck and kissed me
-faltered an apology for the lib
erty,' and then sat down on tho
doubly busted chair and cried, but be-
fore she grew calm again l had Lin
tened to such tale of poverty and
self-denial as my young ears had
never heard before. Work scarce and
growing scarcer, hardly enough to
live on, and to crown all, the urgent
necessity for saving, for boarding
every possible penny.
but why?
For my funersl, my dear" shs
said, 1--WE kept myself respectable
all these years, and if the parish was
to touch me should turn in my cot
fin know | should
Dear Miss Peckitt," l said, you
know we'd never let the parish"
at would be just the same" she
said, though | know you mean it
kindly and thank you the same.
Now, you'll excuse me getting on with
what bits of sewing | have"
And the needle began to fash In
and out through the white stuff.
What is it," asked idly.
ITS for my burying," she said. u
know I'm not long for this world, for
last night see my Willie's ghost az
plain as plain, walking in the church.
yard, looking much the same, only
older-as was to be expected--and I
know that's sign"
Your needles crooked" I said,
fighting with choking feeling in my
throat, LET me thread you another"
Dear Miss" she said, this is tho
only needle I've got. It's not so very
crooked-and pennys penny--and
needles in penny packets isn't what
they used to be. No, and | won't let
you buy me even needles, Miss. It's
the principle | think Of; l won't be
beholden.'
You've got the old pincushion
there still,' | said; there must be
lots of needles in that; let me empty
out the sawdust and see. I'll put II
all back very carefully"
think Miss Peckitt's will must.
have been weakened by long fasting
and trouble, for she let me rip up one
side of that sacred cushion and pour
out the bran into that little black
tea tray with the gold border. ]
found in that bran 81 good needles, to
say nothing of broken ones. Then !
began to put the bran back, and a. !
pushed it in to make 1t hard and
tight felt hollow in the brick.
There was something in it. pulled
II out.
"Oh, Miss Peckitt," cried, look
what have found in your pincush-
ion!
A little canvas bag-and in 1t 10
soverigns and two bank notes, and 4
little letter:
"My Dear Blossom-This Is ESQ Of
my money, so as you will have some
thing If ] am not lucky with the rest.
You will find this when you rip on
the cover. II all goes well, as please
God 1t will, it will pay for the things
for our home. Your true friend and
affectionate lover.
"WILLIAM HEJALE."
She showed me the letter after
ward Now she only kissed it and put
II in her bosom-qulte simply, undo
Ing two buttons for the purpose, and
said softly:
"Pay for things for the house? Il
will pay for my funeral"
Miss Peckitt was on my mind. ]
had seen that the money and tho
words from the dead had brought her
more pain than joy--and after dinner
that evening | slipped on dark cloak
and ran down the quiet street to tho
little white house. opened the door
softly and peeped in.
There was fire in the CRATE, and
before it in the armchair with the
patchwork cushion sat middle
aged man. Miss Peckitt sat on his
knees and her arm was around his
neck; in her cheeks was the fresh
color had never seen there, and In
her eyes the light of youth and hope.
She sprang up at the click OF tho
latch.
! ITS my Willie" she cried; "he'a
come back! Oh, Miss, dear, to think
Of it--he was coming home to me,
with his fortune made, and the ship
was wrecked, and him and the others
has been living like Robinson Crusoe,
and only feicaed away by ship the
other day. And it was him | see last
night, not his ghost. He was looking
for me among the grayes--because ne
couldn't bear to come to the little
house and find me dead and buried"
80 the $50 will buy things for the
house after ALL" | said. And the
br0nzed, clean-shayen man. who stood