The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1899-10-17
THE LATE Mr.. KNAPP
Il STORY WHICH GOES TO SHOW
THAT you CAN'T ALWAYS
TELL WHAT PEOPLE
MEAN BY WHAT THEY SAY.

to me as II everybody ought TO know
the people know, without any partic-
ular explanation.
Well, it was Just this way: That
summer that mother and / wanted to
paper the sitting room, though father
would have given mother his head If
she had asked for it, heads didn't
count. 1t was money we needed, and
of that he had none. Then after much
hard thinking l devised plan, and,
though 1t was a great shock to father
and mother at first, carried the day,
and the upshot of 1t was that we ad-
vertised for summer boarder for our
spare room. Unless you have done the
same thing at some awful crisis In
your life you can never for a moment
imagine, o reader. the awful mixture
of hope and fear that held place in our
hearts until we received neatly writ
ten, briefly worded note signed
phoebe Knapp"
Mother was taken with 1t at once,
and as she delights in all things miser-
able because she can make them feel
better, she was especially captivated
by the closing sentence, which ran,
Having recently met with bereave-
ment, the rest and quiet you offer will
be great boon to me-"
widow, likely" said father as we
read this note aloud in his presence for
the fifth time.
Miss or Mrs, KatieT asked mother,
although we both knew the signature
by heart-"Yours sincerely. Phoebe
Knapp"
Pm sure don't know. can't read
between the lines" answered. rather
hippantly, l fear.
This unknown was beginning to take
sort of weird possession of me. 1t
seemed uncanny that everything
should turn upon the movements of
stranger whom we had never seen, and
wherever turned could not help see
| ing a silent figure In long Grape veil
lifting it's hand and commanding me to
do this or that, upon which l was al
ready engaged.
| However, we were all ready for her
at last, and when father came from
| the station and deposited upon the
front piazza a tiny little woman Of
about so years of age, with big, fright
ened gray eyes, and delicate, sensitive
features, a creature that would have
looked small alongside a robust child
of 10, the contrast between this little
\ object and the commanding figure of
my imagination was so great that
almost had fit of Mysteries on the
spot I took refuge in fight, while
mother cooed and coddled the poor
dear" and took her up to her room.
You see, mother was just in her ele-
ment, while l had all my notions to
readjust to existing circumstances.
My flights Of fancy will be the death
Of me some day, father says.
l caught mother on the stair mo-
ment as they were coming down and
breatned softly into her ear. Miss or
Mrs.Y
81 don't know. | couldn't find out, I"
answered mother in that awful stage
whisper of hers that sends me nearly
into fits whenever she tries 1t. But our
boarder did not seem to notice. made
venture on a bold stroke. II shall
call her Mrs. Knapp, and then she can
correct me If she doesn't like it. I've
always heard that it gives middle
aged married woman much greater
offense to be called Miss than it does
to address a single sister as Mrs. SO
here goes"
81 hope you had pleasant trip down,
Nm" said pleasantly, allowing my
voice to die away on the last syllables
as | found my courage ooZing out at
the tip of my tongue. couldn't say
Mrs. Knapp after all, to save me.
noticed with much amusement that
father and mother avoided the pitfall
as successfully as did, during that
first meal. and we all went out on the
piazza after supper to enjoy the sunset
Here our guest set our minds at rest.
How James would have enjoyed
thisw exclaimed she softly, as If hall
to herself Mother nodded so vigorous
ly and triumphantly behind her bach
that | was afraid she would notice Il
and so FASTENED to nod in reply. W.
knew now. She was a widow. "Ht
| lONCQ u SIT DColuC IIC anu naNNh NA4'
setting sun. even in the city," she wen
on softly. ut seems terribly lonely
without him. Oh, if could only hav'
brought him out into such a peaceful
place as this, he might be alive now
That last hot spell was SO hard on him
l thought perhaps he had a sunstroke
= but could not tell"
AFo+6o.fc ,x-o., Gllod with RI of
tears, and as she laid her hand gent,
over that of Mrs. Knapp she inquiries
tenderly, How long Is it since he died
dear?
"Six weeks" answered the widow
HE was all that had in the world
and | have been so lonely ever since
But please. Mrs Curtis, cannot tai
about it quite yet"
Nevertheless, she did talk about It
quite good deal in the days that TO
lowed, with the effect that l, who wa
q wide awake girl at that time, pt
culiarly susceptible to first impre
sions, imbibed an impression off til
late Mr.. Knapp's eccentrieities thf
was not altogether complimentary
the departed gentleman.
Poor dearp' said she one day al
tried so hard to speak. If he only coul
have told his wantsp' We never aske
her any questions. We just let her tai
on, feeling that this was the kinde
and best | inferred from this last +
mark that her husband had been a
fected by paralysis. particularly as 81
had said on another occasion: 81 use
to sit at my window. and James sat
his, | sewing, he looking out Of Il
window at what was going on in Il
street He seemed perfectly happy |
long as l was there. But then we CO
never tell often wish now that
had done more for him OF could ha'
learned better what he wanted"
''What did the physicians say or do
l asked.
"They said 1t was the breaking up
the system by old age. | never fl
that they quite understood the case"
Poor little thing. Married to an ag
paralytic and yet regretting his dea
as the breaking up Of the one tie
earthl What desolation-what utt
desolation her case seemed to me!
was moved to take her in my arms al
weep with her. which was a great de
for me.
Not only was the late Mr.. Knapp G
and imbecile and paralytic, but he b
other traits which must have render
him highly Objectionable as a dai
companion.
"Just about this time every afterno
1 always gave James bowl of crea