The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903, 1901-02-02
HIS REVERENCE FROM TEN
NESSEE.
KATHARINE MELICK.
For The Courier

suddenly shut his eyes tighter than
Chaucers Chanticleer. and opened his
mouth as wide. over bis plate. the school
ma'am boarder gszed for a full minute
before she realized that he was saying
grace. Then she dropped her eyes, the
little landlady set down a china cup in
haste, and the new order OF meal-taking
was inaugurated.
The House OF the Grottoes had been
too lonely. Since the day when the
invalid had been hushed there, chill.
dren's voices had drowned the lost
echoes. Yet three dark haired grand
daughters with the gypsy eyes of their
ne'sr do well father. and the 1.-the feet
that had been their mothers, were not
enough to fill those hands left empty.
Hence the hair wreaths. where dark
flowers feather all the edges; the wax
chains. Topped about wax vases; the lit
tie wax plates, heaped with wax berries,
and plums, and pears, and grapes; with
wax slices OF cake. where the frosting
almost melts; with wax candies and
tarts and desserts.
They had gone one by one, the three
grown gypsy maids. The old spinning
wheel: the pink china; the andirons; the
real lace scarfs and fchus that had
graced the halls OF the Canton home,
had gone with them. Only in memory
the Little Lady saw her treasures now,
down vista Of colonial pillars white
and high. The acres about the House
of the Grottoes had slipped away with
each wedding day. until only corner
lot was left in the city, grown up to the
grotto by the gate. But the playthings
OF the little maids we're left behind, with
the remnant OF old treasures. And
what the little players had failed to do,
his Reverence from Tennessee accom-
plished. He kept the old hands busy.
Not that he himself was creature of
over accumulated energy. The smile
that spread his expansive lips, was gen.
ial as the April sun on the lee side Of a
hay stack. His blue eyes we're placid
ae a carp pond, when. fixing them upon
the circle Of his plate, he ruminated up.
on his early youth.
my father was nearest Of all his rels-
tions to having q college education. He
went one winter down to Nashville.
When spring came, he walked out on
the campus, and heard the birds chirp-
ing, and the wind blowing over the
trees. And he thought about the Guilt
vators clicking along the rows. So he
swung his books over his shoulder, and
struck out for home"
"And never went back!'
Never went back. No; I'm through
Both women smiled, as the Tennessee
an betook himself to his room, with an
easy gait and an easy drawl that exclud-
ed any abruptness from his exit.
He doesn't expend any surplus ener-
gy in words" remarked the school
ma'am.
mo, but you don't know, Miss Mitch.
ell. how it rests me to have some one iu
the house. It's q house Of shadows"
The minister opened his door. There
isn't enough water in my pitcher. Mrs.
Hillie," he remarked amiably.
The school ma'am looked from the
big smooth fingers that held out the
pitcher. to the tiny. knotted ones that
took it, and felt her temper stir. II
squirmed uneasily, when the little wild
ow. coming back from the kitchen with
distress in her face. explained, there
isn't apy more in, and it's too slippery