The Republican journal., 1903-10-22

ANYWAY. must do something"
She crept softly down the stairs again
into her own bedroom. 1t was sane
tum with which no one interfered; the
home of her treasures and the delight
of her heart. Mr.. Slater's thrifty ap-
plication of fresh paint about the place
every spring kept the gray blue floor
shining under it's braided rugs, and
with her own hands Sarilla ''did up"
the muslin curtains. The furniture
was plain. but in one corner stood some
old bookshelves which she had var
nished and curtained with breadths OF
an outgrown blue gown hung upon
brass rings. Here were her precious
books. some of them bought with
Christmas money, some sent by Aunt
Maria from her city home. She drew
the curtains back and looked at the
books lovingly, but she repressed her
weakness sternly.
'It will be grand for the village to
have library! Some folks will enjoy
it so. 'Melia Martin, sitting in that
room all the time; and old Mrs. Blake;
she does love reading. We ought to do
our part, of course" But oh, those
old friends to whom she had always
been able to 60 back with fresh enjoy
ment.
"There's The Lamplighter!' she
mused, taking down a worn red vol
ume. "I've read that since l was a
child. It's old-fashioned, but | guess
there never was girl yet that didn't
like it, | ought to put it in.' Then
she took Lorna Doone:'
THAT would set 'Melia nearly crazy.
| wonder why | never lent it to her.
~. n1ynS fnrOpf
everything when you get into 1t. There.
Somebody'll enjoy it as I've done On
dear, and David Coppertield' and
Dombev and Som and Whittier's and
Longfellow's poems-no, | don't believe
anvbody'd care for poetry-and yet
they might She patted the blue and
gilt covers.
'And Idylls of the king'-Aunt
Maria was so good to send me that
and Ruskin's Grown of Wild Olive
to think of my buying that blessed lit
tie book in the first place because 1t
was cheap. It'll give folks something
to think about anyway. Oh, and my
set of Shakespeare-no, | can't l
guess there are thirty without it. But
the collection was not large, after all,
Twenty ht-twenty y-nine--thlrty
there would be Just one book over.
81 guess keep Longfellow' poems.
| must have something left"' Then be
gan an arduous task, for there were
inscriptions and marks to be rubbed
out, and many stocking expedl-
tions up and downstairs; but finally,
after midnight, the box was filled again,
and in Sarilla's own book-shelves stood
rows of gloomy volumes, the one little
white-bound copy of LongfelloW shin
ing among them like a small grave
stone Once a door opened down
stairs, and she stopped with bated
breath as her father went into the hall
and listened.
''No; there's nobody up" she heard
him say as he went back to bed. and she
felt like hypocrite. Its for his sake,
though" she whispered, and the towns.
| wouldn't have done it for anything
else
Mr.. Slater found the basket of books
with white cloth tied neatly over
them, the next day. Mrs. Slater looked
little apprehensive as he drove away.
''Sarila," she said timidly, should
you think they could make any use OF
those"
"Oh, l don't know" sarilla bent
with a smile over the skirt she was
pressing. Il guess they'd rather have
them than nothing" And this was
the only conversation on the subject
between mother and daughter,
Saturday evening brought the county
paper. Mr.. Slater, stretching himself
back in his easy chair to enjoy it, first
perused long article on the feeding of
poultry, over which he grunted.
"They make fools of animals nova
DAYS" was his comment NO self-re-
specting hen would ever lay on such
diet as that Then he passed on to
the local items and those from Speed
well caught his eye.
"The ladies interested in the new Ii
brary," he read, ''have met with unex-
pected success. Our publlc-splrlted and
large minded tOwnsman, Mr. Jordan
Slater, made donation this week, in
Guiding valuable works of fiction and
poetry, ancient and modern, and a fine
set of Shakespeare. This splendid gift
is highly appreciated by all, and will be
a lasting monument to his generosity
Mr. Slater held the paper nearer his
eyes and studied it, then laid it down
again, with an uneasy cough. What did
they mean? A book was a book-but
the box in the attic had never held
those things He tidgeted in his chair
and read the article third time. His
name had never been in the paper be-
fore. Finally he got up and walked
out to the barn.
"I'd like to see that Gazette, if your
fathers through with it, remarked
Mrs. Slater to Sarilla. why she ex-
claimed ''here's something about pas
gift to the library. Sarilla Sarilla!
Did you know what he was giving them?
He didn't take any of yours by mistake,
did he?
~"What does it say?" asked Sarilla,
leaning over her mothers shoulder
"Oh-why-no; my bookcase is full"
"Well, that is kind of queer. Jordan"
said Mrs. Slater, as her husband en-
tered, "do you see this piece in the pa
per about you! Isn't it nice?"
"Nice??" her husband echoed, scorn-
fully. "It is joke; low, mean joke.
Some fool, | suppose, thought he'd
have fun out of me. That's what you
get by trying to please folks" There
was an angry quaver in his voice. and
his hands twitched.
you've got tongue Sarilla, he
observed presently, turning around and
facing her. 81 hope you'll use it to let
people know what you think of a low
down thing like that! Ii i'd known"
ho hro1y off