The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1901-12-20
MISS JARDINES JELLY

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Keith explained, as he
looked into the snug sitting
room, where his landlady sat, deep in
the local paper.
Where shall forward your MAIL
sir?"
She did not express surprise at his
sudden announcement. He had board
ed with her six years. She was accus-
toned to his abrupt decisions and has
ty departures.
"Im not sure, yet. I'll send you a
postal Be back in a couple of weeks.
Awfully hot, isn't it? Good day, Mrs.
Muncie."
And the youthful face, silvery head
and square shoulders vanished from
the doorway. But a minute OF two
later the door was opened.
"By the way, I've packed up a box
of magazines which have been accu-
mulating unread. I may get a chance
at them now. l wish you would have
the box set in the cellar, and I'll tell
Jerry to call for it and ship it to me-"
Every well, sir"
And then Mr.. Keith was out Of the
house, and, walking down the elm-bor-
dered street, looking erect and young
despite his forty-five years and his
prematurely silyered hair.
The faded specialized eyes of Mrs.
Muncie glanced after him with an air
of motherly proprietorship.
"Six years he's been here, bless him!
and a more considerate and kind gen
tleman the good Lord never made. A
letter for me, Mr. Vicks?"
Mr.. Vicks, the mail carrier, had
paused at her gate and was turning in.
eyes. Hot day. See Mr.. Keith is
off. Good afternoon, ma'am."
Mrs. Muncie turned her letter over,
stared at the superscription, opened
the envelope, and read:
"My Dear Old Friend-I am coming
down to you for a couple Of weeks. l
have not written to you since l came
up to this city seven years ago to earn
my living with my wonderful accom-
plishments' But I've found there is
no lack Of teachers Of languages, that
my voice is not so divine as my friends
assured me, and so 1 settled down long
ago to the commonplace but remuner-
ative employment of putting up fine
jellies. have succeeded. 1 am doing
well. But / want rest. So write me
a line saying If would intrude, or if
any reason exists why l should not i'm
pose upon you for awhile. Affection
ately yours, Margaret Jardine."
A knock came to the door.
"Come inw cried Mrs. Muncie. "Oh,
it's you, Mrs. Wray! And here you've
caught me just cryin' for sheer JOY"
The letter in her hands trembled.
"Here Miss Margaret-my dear Miss
Margaret you've heard me tell about
so often, an who 1 didn't know was
dead or alive-writes that she is com
ing to stay a spell with me. You know
was housekeeper for her folks years
an years, when they were the great
people Of this part of the country, an
lived in that splendid palace on the
hill, that looks so forlorn an neglected
now. Her father failed in business
and the fact killed him. His wife
didn't stay long after him. An there
was my dear Miss Margaret-only {
slip of a girl of eighteen, flung out OF
the world to earn her own living.
begged her to stay with me-but shC
couldn't be dependent. But now
well, there; you may read for your
self"
And she handed her sympatheti,
neighbor the letter.
Two days later Mrs. Muncie, potter
ing away over some crab-apple mar
malade, glanced up at an elegant in
truder who had come unbidden int,
her kitchen, a stately, graceful, fash
ionably attired woman with delicate
patrlcian face, deep blue eyes and
beautiful mouth
Bless my soulw cried Mrs. Muncie
eff It isn't my dear Miss Margaret
And then the faithful old soul ha,
Miss Jardine in her arms, and wa
laughing and crying over her at once.
"And so you are putting up pre-
serves" said Margaret half an hou
later, as she sat slipping her tea. 'Tu
going to help you. I'm an expert now
you know" laughing. "a professional.
And this despite Mrs. Muncie's hall