Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1899-06-01

urSt VlSlt was palo 10 the nttle Wnlt6
house with the green railings.
1T will do the poor thing good to
see you," said my mother. II fear she
Is horribly poor. She gets hardly any
work now. And she won't accept any
thing she does not earn"
She did not know me at first. and
was dusting chair that was already
OF spotlessness to shame our chairs
at home, when suddenly she recognized
me-the shock shattered for moment
the reserve years-she threw her thin
arms around my neck and kissed me-
faltered an apology for the liberty"
and then sat down on the doubly dust
ed chair and cried piteously.
l listened 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 neces-
sity OF saving, for boarding every pos
sible penny.
But why?"
For my funeral, my dear" she said.
I've kept myself respectable all these
years, and il the parish was to touch
me ! should turn in my coffin-I know
l should"
Your needles crooked" said,
fighting with a choking feeling in my
throat. "Let me thread you another"
Dear miss" she said. this is the
only needle I've got. It's not go crook
ed-and cents cent-ani needies
in penny packets isn't what they used
to be. No, and won't let yoi buy
me even needles, miss. rs the pr.nci-
pie think Of; won't be beholden."
you've got the old plncushion there,
STILL" l said; there mnst be lots Of
needles in that; let me emp'y out the
sawdust and see. I'll put it all back
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
bran sixty-seven good needles, to say
nothing Of broken ones.
Then l began to put the bran back,
and as I pushed 1t in to make it hard
and tight felt a hollow in the brick.
There was something in 1t. pulled
1t out
20, Miss Peckitt," cried; "look
what have found in your pincush-
ion!"
A little canvas bag-and in 1t several
bills and little letter.
my Dear Blossom: This is $3.50 Of
my money, so as you will have some
thing IL I am not lucky with the rest.
You will find this when you rip off the
cover. II all goes we'll, as please God,
it will, it will pay for things for our
home. Your true friend and affection
ate lover.
"WILLIAM BEALE."
PAY for things for the house? 1t
will pay for my funeral"
Miss Peckitt was on my mind.
had seen that the money and the words
from the dead had brought her more
pain than joy--and after dinner that
evening I slipped on dark cloak and
ran down the quiet street to a little
white house. opened the door softly
and peeped in.
There was a fire in the crate, and
before it in the armchair with the
patchwork cushion sat middle-aged
man. Miss Peckitt sat on his knee
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.
Its my Willie" she cried; "he's
come back! o, 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
the reserve of years, she threw her thin
only fetched away by a ship the 9TH
er day."
l am sure they were both persons of
sentiment because they bought back
the old farm. with Its south wall where
the apricots "fruited so Free" and
when they went to church Miss Peckitt
wore gown OF faded silk with a ROSY
sprig. The cousin in Maidstone had
been faithful to his trust, and there
was enough Of the silk that the BRIDE
groom's mother had worn at her mar
riage to clothe the little bride on her
wedding day,