The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1900-07-27

BANeA u DSu W ncISehA.
Miss Fanny found it little painful
to explain these things to me, and q
faint red spot came in each withered,
delicate old cheek as she said: TT
seems a little like what they call an in
stitution up here, doesn't it? But it
isn't. The landlady is New England
woman; her name is Martin, and, you
see, she has planned to have the cheap
est place that-that-a nice person can
live in, and, you see, 1t isn't so bad, for
1t is clean, and 1t Is quite comfortable,
assure you, and you know you are
sure that your roommate is respecta-
BILE, and everything is arranged for 1t,
so you have great deal more privacy
than you would think. / must take
you to my room," she went on, 'to
show you my fathers portrait. oh,
yes, always have that with me, and
you must be able to say you know how
Judge Marchbanks looked"
"Of course" she said on the stairs,
"these northerners are very strange.
The lady l am with is named Miss
Boggs. You'd think she was-well,
rather common sort of person, from
very plain people, you know, on first
meeting her, but she is very highly ed
ucated; she is studying medicine. She
hasn't the polish one finds in our peo-
pie, but l am sure she has very fine
character, and she Is religious and
and settled in her views; not In the
least like we used to be apt to imagine
at the SOUTH"
She was interrupted by arriving at
her door. Miss Boggs was not in.
Looking very large upon the walls Of
the cell-like little place hung the por-
trait in its dingy gilt frame-you know
the kind-the clothing looking like So
lidified smoke, the linen as if nodded
out of vapor and the flesh suggesting
painted wood Yet the creature who
painted it had not succeeded In evad-
ing his subject altogether, ample as
were his incapacities, and something of
the mantle large minded, able, ro-
mantle man that had heard of-was
in it. l even thought 1 could see in it
qualities l already knew In Miss Fan
ny. especially the receptivity, the open
ness to new ideas that made her seem
SO young and made it possible for her
to wage such battle as she had entered
upon.
could imagine as looked at the pic
ture that the judge. If put down alive
in the queer room, would make some
sort of intelligent effort to comprehend
the conditions around him.
Miss Fanny fiecked at the frame with
her pocket handkerchief, she carried
me to one side and the other to see the
picture. and she impressively told me
the name Of the poor soul who painted
it. Then she sat herself down in front
of It and told me about the Polk and
Clay campaign In which Judge March
banks and my grandfather had stump
ed" the state together, trying politely
but fruitlessly to remember as many
instances of triumph and adulation for
my ancestors as for hers. That both
gentlemen were on the losing side in
that contest had never occurred to her
as dimming their honors.
always remember her as she looked
that day, like some quaint little priest
esS before shrine. She sat In q chair
close against the wall that in the mar
row room she might be able to see the
picture opposite. Her white hair was
crimped little and drawn softly back
In a very good compromise between old
styles and new-Miss Fanny was not
the person to cling to the old for its
own sake-and at her wrists and neck
were. of all things, bits of thread"
loo orfrl oh
than otherwise and pretty, too. with its
nice fiat back. But the old black gown
made me sorry, because l knew the
little woman was not and never would
be Indifferent to her dress. AS she
talked away so proudly, so feellngly,
of my father" wondered what place
In memory had all the rest of her long
past-the wifehood and widowhood
and motherhood, the common, blessed
warm joys and common, crushing
griefs that fate had bestowed upon her,
and which, good and Ill alike, she, SO
little and tender still, had survived.
All seemed to have sunk out of sight,
to be buried, and only the first ties to
be still active and operative despite
time and death.
l reflected that after all she had
spent most Of her life with her father
that 1t was as his daughter she had
chiefly found her title to existence, but
did not know at that time the thing
that really explained her special devo-
ton to him-the fact that she was then
spending herself in his service, for his
good name. The fllial tie was re-en-
forced now by one yet stronger, by
perhaps the firmest Of human bonds.
that which binds the server to the
served, and at last something like a
mothers love mingled with the daugh-
ter's loyal alteration of the long dead
man.
staid to dinner with her-supper
she called 1t. and In fact the bald little
meal might as well be termed the one
as the other, but she was unapologet-
ically hospitable and graceful over 1t.
1t was not till came to go home
that Miss Fanny's adaptability failed
her. "Oh. my child. cannot let you
go out into the street alone. Il is bad
enough for me. but you'll can't think
of it at ALL
"Very well. then. Miss Fanny, I'll
ring for a messenger boy"
"What for, dear?"
s@ro 60 home with me-"
"a messenger boy%
'Why. yes; that is what we do when
we are too proper to go alone"
"Mercy on mel My lamb. it is to
save you from messenger boys and
n al. Il