Martinsburg herald. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1881-1920, 1902-05-10
GRANDMA'S LEGACY.
ny EMMA GARRISON JONES.

came home to supper.
was sorry, OF course, for was fond Of
grandma, and it had been my habit, before
my marriage, to make her visit every sum
mer.
But she was three score and ten, and quite
infirm, and we had been expecting her death
for months; consequently / was not very
greatly shocked.
1--WE must 20 to the funeral, Steve, by all
means" ! said, when / had shed a few nat
ural tears, and on, Steve, | added, sure
" she has remembered Us in her will?"
Cant tell, Libbie," Steve answered, as
he buttered his toast; "but I'd advise you
not to hope too strongly, lest you be dis
appointed"
glanced across the table at his pale, tired
face, and my eyes filed with tears. lie had
to work so hard, my poor Steve, and he was
weakly and ailing, and with our united el-
forts it was almost more than we could 90
10 make ends meet. The bills would run
up so fast.
1--WE must do without meat for supper,
Steve" / had said a month before, and meat
was banshed and he had only toast and
tea
Steve's best coat was out at the elbows,
too, and my one silk was growing shabby
and threadbare. If Grandma st. Aubyn
had only left us something
Steve" / cried, my heart in a futter.
"she must have remembered me? She used
to be fond OF me when | went to Seayiew."
Eat your supper, Lib, aud don't mind
Grandma st. Aubyn's viii, laughed steve.
But the dry toast choked me.
Il can't help thinking Of 4, Steve"
said 'What help to us a few hundred
pounds would be-"
Steve laughed and munohed his toast.
'You should have a new suit out and
out the first thing, Steve"
Don't count your chickens before they re
Matched, Lbbie."
And baby should have an embroidered
slip and q pink. cap, and we'd get wicker
carriage to ride her in the park, wouldn't
we, Steve?'
ero be sure, if we had the money, Lib,
but we haven't"
"No, but grandma wouldn't forget us"
There's no telling, Lib"
"Steve," l called again, as | cleared away
the things, I'VE could pay all the back rent,
too, and I'd have nice broiled steak for
your supper every night"
Hush, little woman, and get ready for
bed, and don't bother your brains over
Grandma st. Aubyn's viii. Wait till you
hear it read Meanwhile, we are happy
enough as we are, so let's be content" And
Steve came around, with baby in his arms,
and kissed me
| dreamed all night long Of Grandma ST.
Aubyns legacy. AT one time it was a great
heap Of thinking gold, at another it was
ropes OF shimmering pearls.
Morning came, and we made an early
start for SeaView
The old-fashioned house, standing on the
summit of hill that overlooked the sea,
was all closed and silent, and in the musty
drawing-room grandma lay in state.
Poor grandma When | saw her placid
old face and folded hands, / wept in gen
uine sorrow, forgetful of my own selfish in
terests.
TIC funeral over, we were gathered in the
dusty old library, and there the viii was
read
The legacies were numerous. A hundred
pounds to one and more or less to another;
Seaview to a nephew, the household effects
to a niece, and to myself, Libbie, wife of
Stephen Holmes, the sum of 20 pounds to
buy mourning ring, and the old harpsi-
chord which stood in the drawing room
"Oh, Stevel it is cruell' | sobbed, as We
started homeward.
Never mind, Libbe, he said, eve shall
get along without it,"
But it was hard work. Steve got weaker
as the winter came on; and one stormy
afternoon they sent him home in carriage.
He had tainted at his desk
1--WE gone under, Libbie," he said, with
sad smile. Poor little wife, what will you
do now?"
"Never mind, Steve" answered, as l
smoothed the pillow and kissed his white
lips. I'm manage somehow, only don't you
worry, dear. | can sew, you know, and the
nights are long, and baby isn't. bit of
trouble"
But, sew as would, day and night, the
bills accumulated, and the rent remained
unpaid, the doctors fees and the apothe
cary's bills taking every penny l could earn.
One bitter winter afternoon, the climax
came. The landlord gave us warning to
leave. We could not occupy the cottage
longer, unless t rent was paid In addi-
tio7 10 is, the butcher and grocer both
sC' e. cir bills.
ArG Steve was worse.
Hell die" the doctor said, "unless you
can take him away to a warm climate"
What should do? / couldn't go into the
chamber where he lay, lest he should read
but AIoubit III my ldec. 80 i went INTO our
little parlor, and, throwing myself on the
lounge, sobbed as if my heart would break.
Baby crept in after me, and fell to finger
ing at the old harpsichord.
We had brought it home from Seavew, or
rather Steve had, for l insisted that we
should have nothing to do with it.
mo, no, Lib he said "it's grandmas
gift, and she's in her grave now"
1t stood in one corner of our little parlor,
gaunt and ancient as grandma herself
1t was baby's supreme delight to finger
the rusty wires. She fell TO work now, run
ming her chubby hands over them.
Don't 90 kye, nanny, and Blossy pay
90 song" she lisped. But took no tcel
With the sure prospect of Steve's death be-
fore ne, my heart seemed breaking
Bio " twaused the wires, and the win
ter storm howled without, and | wept in
my helpless woe
Presently a great crash and shrill shrek
from Blossy startled me TO my feet. TIC
whole front had given way and there stood