The Republican journal., 1907-01-24
written for The Republican Journal.]
Caleb AinSIey's
Granddaughter,

OdItD AIIISIty ,
Granddaughter.
When Old Caleb Ainsley las he was
called far and near died, he left his
fortune to his granddaughter, friedrich
Ainsley. This occasioned much sur
prise, for Fredrica's father, Caleb Aims
ley's only son, whose mother had died
at his birth, had been meier do well.
He had run away from home and his
fathers rigid discipline at an early age;
had married, had buried his wife some
where in the west, and after twenty
years of wandering had come home to
die, bringing with him a girl of sixteen
his daughter Fredrica.
Fredrica Ainsley was loyal to her
father and condemned her grandfath-
er's harShness Early in their acqualn-
when his will opposed Fredrica's it was
Greek meets Greek" More often than
not he was conquered-and the senSa-
ton, through its very novelty, was
agreeable to him. He liked to see the
handsome head with it's crown of red
gold hair, poised defiantly before him,
the grey eyes full of steely glints, the
cheeks flushed with hot Ainsley blood,
and the scornful lips giving him back
thrust for thrust, and sarcasm for Sar-
casm, until his old veins tingled with
the warfare and he forgot that he was
"old Caleb Ainsley" with one foot
in the grave. "Gad, girl, why couldn't
the Lord have given me a son like
you?" he groaned one day, and Fred
rica's retort was quick-"Why didn't
the Lord make you better father to
the son he did give your"
Not respectful - not cringing - not
what Caleb Ainsley had been accus-
| toned to-but it pierced the hard she'll
of his egotSm and set him thinking.
Had the blame been his after all.
Would a different father have had a
different son? A fearless, frank, open
hearted boy, true to the core-that was
what he had wanted; and he had re-
ceived a shrinking, sensitive, reticent
boy-a boy who would lie to him, rather
than confess a fault The thought
ranked still, after all these years-but
| had his own harshness been to blame
even for that! From some newly aWak-
ened consciousness in his cramped soul
| the answer came that it had. His son
had been dead more than a year at this
| time, and Caleb's remOrse, such as it
was, came too late, and yet, although
he did not relinquish his pet scheme OF
| leaving his fortune to found a home
and school for orphan boys, he grew
noticeably kinder to Fredrica after
this. 'But you needn't count on my
money" he cautioned her one day,
after he had surprised himself by a
| kind word and genial laugh that had
seemed to originate under his left vest
pocket. ''You needn't count on my
money. | made my will long ago and
Pm not going to change it. I've added
a codicil that will give you a little some
thing, but this house and the most of
my money goes to orphan boys. | fail
ed with my own boy, but I'm going to
make man of some other boy. So
don't you make any plans on my money.
proudly that she did not care for his
money--that she only remained under
| his roof because he seemed to need her
and that she would leave it and earn
her own living if he were ready to have
her So sincere did she seem in this
that the old man never again dared
refer to his money or his will in hel
presence.
Then one day, suddenly, Caleb Aims
lev died. Died sitting in his chair with
a grim smile on his thin lips, as though
he had seen death coming and had met
even that dread foe, as he had met
every foe in life-fearlesS and undaunt
ed. And Fredrica had wept for hin
honest tears of honest grief, which
after all is the best that any OF US car
ask when the end comeS-be we better
or worse than old Caleb Ainsley. The
will when it was opened was surprise
as cid Caleb had meant that it ShOulC
be. 1t was dated only few weeks be
fore his death and read, ''To Fredrici
Ainsley give and bequeath all my rea
and personal estate, except such be
quests as are named herein" An(
Fredrica at tWenty-one was posseSso
in her own right OF half million ant
the fine old Ainsley estate, that wa
the pride of the country for mile
around. Then it was that her NATURAL.
arrogant disposition seemed to asser
itself, and those in her employ fount
that the reinS of government had slip
ped from Old Caleb's hands into hands
scarcely less merciless. Her grand
father right over again." the old sci
wants complained Not a bit like poo
Mr.. Frederick, who was kind, tender
hearted gentleman, as couldn't speal
harsh even to a dog" pride goetl
before fall, and a naughty spirit be
fore destruction, quoted old lawye
Temple one day, watching Fredrica'
beautiful, naughty face, as she drov
past in her shining trap with her pei
fectly groomed and perfectly matche
, thoroughbreds.
But the Rev. John Malcolm saw deep
/ er and was puzzled. "Poor child" h
, said to himself, as Fredrica swept int
his church and sat in lonely state il
the Ainsley pew Sunday after Sunday
''Poor, lonely, unhappy child" Tn
: Rev. John had loved Fredrica Ainsle
from the first day she had sat in tina
, pew-or so it seemed to him. And be
fore Caleb Ainsley's death there ha
: been moments when he had believes
his love returned. Now he felt tina
between this proud woman and himsel
there was great gulf fixed, and h
, made no effort to bridge the gulf. H
only did his best in his forceful earnes
sermons to answer some spiritual nee
which he saw in the girls gray eyes
, Some question that haunted and pu1
t zled him and inspired him to do hi
g best.
"It's pity said kindly Mrs. Temple
who had known the Rev. John from
boy, and who loved him like sol
: ''its a pity that Caleb Ainsley had n