The Laurens advertiser. (Laurens, S.C.) 1885-1973, 1905-03-22

to the fire as the two women laid aside
their wraps and drew chairs UP. ave
read the paper purity well through an
had n spell o. Twin over bygones," and
then, turning to Telly and smiling, no
added: ~ got thinkin' o. the day We
came ashore. an mother she got that
excited she sot the box ye was In on
the stove IN then put more wood In.
It's n wonder she didn't put ye in the
stove instead o. the woodl"
AS this joke was not new to the lis.
toner's no notice was taken OF 1t. and
the three lapsed into silence.
Outside the steady boom of the surf
beating or the rocks came with monot-
onous regularity, ana inside the clock
licked. For n long time Uncle Terry
sat and smoked on in silence, resum-
ing, perhaps, his bygones, and then
aid by the way, Telly, what's be-
come o. them trinlsets O. yourn ye had
on that day? IT'S been so long now,
most twenty years, 1 bout forgot 'em.
1 s'pose we hain't lost 'em. hev yer"
"Why, no, father" she answered, q
little surprised. II hope not. They
are all in n box In my bureau, and no
m eve disturbs them"
rye wouldn't mind fetchin' 'em now,
would We, Tellyf" he continued after
drawing a long Whit Of smoke and
slowly emitting 1t In rings. "It's been
so many years, an since I got thinkin'
bout it I'd like to take q look at 'em,
Jest to remind me o. that fortunate
day Ye came to u.s."
The girl arose and, going upstairs, re-
turned with a small tin box shaped like
a trunk and, drawing the table up in
front of Uncle Terry. set the bex down
upon 1t. AS he opened 1t she perched
herself On the arm of his chair and,
leaning against his shoulder, passed one
arm caressingly around his neck and
watched him take out tho contents.
First came n soft, feecy blanket, then
two little garments, once whitest mus.
lin, but now yellow with age, and then
another smaller one of flannel. Pinned
to this were two tiny shoes OF knitted
wool. In the bottom Of the box wa a
small wooden shoe, and though clumsy
in comparison, yet evidently fashioned
to fit a lady's foot. Tucked in this was
a little box tied with faded ribbon, and
In this were n locket and chain, two
rings and a scrap Of paper. The writ.
ing on the paper, once hastily scrawled
by a despairlng mothers hand, had al
most faded, and inside the locket were
two faces, one n mans with strongly
marked features, the other girlish with
big eyes and hair In curls.
These were all the heritage Of this
waif OF the sen who now, n fair girl
with eyes and face like the woman's
picture, was leaning on the shoulder
Of her foster father, and they told n
pathetic tale of life and death; Of ro-
nance and mystery not yet unwoven.
How many times hat orphan girl
had imagined what that tale might be;
how often before she had examined
every II Of those mute tokens; how
many times gazed with mute eyes at
the faces in the locket; and how, rs
the years bearing her onward toward
maturity passed, had she hoped and
waited, hoping ever that some word,
some whisper from that faron land Of
her birth might reach her!
And rs she looked Mt those mulc rel
les which told so little md yet 30 much
OF her history, while the old man who
had been all that n kind father could
be to her took them out one by one,
she realized more than eve what n