Willmar tribune., 1909-09-01

pathetic 'Ilesr me!" and Z sorrowfl
shake Of her gray head.
Mrs. Pickett and her granddauehte..
Dorothy, were left alone. Dorothy was
the daughter Of MIR. and Mrs. Pickett's
only child. who. with his wife, had
died when Dorothy was but five years
old, and since that time she had been
the light and Joy Of the fine old farm
house. M
Sand I've taken such comfort In
thipkin' that your gran'pa an me
would leave you so nicely provided for
and In home of your own when we
were gone. Dear me, dear me!"'
1T doesn't matter about me. grand
ma," Dorothy said. II am sorry only
on your account. l can teach or sew
or work In store or do something
else, and we can be very cozy and
comfortable In our two snug little
rooms. There will be some money left
for you after the note and the mort
gage are paid"
1t was decided that there should
be public sale or vendue Of the ef-
fects not needed for the new home to
which they were to go. A ''vandoo'
was usually attended by everybody in
the neighborhood, and the occasion
was semihOliday. So there was gen.
eral interest when the posters appear
ed announcing that Mahala ]. Pickett,
executrix of the estate of Ira w. Pick
EFT, would on Oct 10 offer for sale
such and such carefully described
articles.
Mrs. Pickett had sorrOwful duty
In indicating the things she consented
to sell.
'"They shan't have my mahog'ny
chist Of drawers, nor my haircloth
sofy. nor my howered carpet, nor my
two big rockin' cheers that my father
and mother begun housekeepin' with.
And they shan't have-oh, dear, dear!
There's nothin' do want 'em to have!'
Poor old lady! She found that even
the simplest and most ordinary Of her
belongings were dear to her.
the glass door. Dotty," she said. Il
s'pose it'll have to 60. We've got the
red one, and s'pose we shan't want
two. And there's that old oak chist
up in the attic-it might as we'll 20,
and l reckon Rachel Day II bid it in.
She wanted to buy it Of me once,
thirty years ago. can't bear to think
Of her havin' any Of my things. and
Ill warrant she'll come and bid In the
very ones hate to part with most"
"Perhaps she won't come to the sale
at all, grandma" suid Dorothy.
"Yes, she Willy! replied Mrs. Pickett
positively. Il know Rachel Day. She'll
be here to glory over my trouble. It'll
be twenty years this fall since she
and spoke. and she never come to
your grandpa's funeral. and l know
from that that We shall never speak
ag'in. I'D an idee she'd come then.
Such good friends as We used to be-
girls together and so intimate that we
had our dresses and bonnets just alike!
And for twenty years we amt spoke,
though we've met hundreds Of times.
Dear me. dear me!''
Sweet of face and gentle Of manner
as Mrs. Pickett was, she was a woman
Of strong prejudices and great firm.
ness. She never sought quarrel and
never continued one long II forced in
to it. She simply and for all the time
dismissed her enemies from her friend.
ship and affection.
"When I'm done with anybody" she
said. I'm done with 'emv'
Acting on this unkindly and un-C Chris.
tianlike principle, she had dropped" a
friend of her girlhood and early wo-
manhood twenty years before the
death Of her husband.
Her son had quarreled with the only
son of her dearest friend. Mrs. Rachel
Day. The mothers had unwisely taken
up the matter, and not even the con,-
mon sorrow that came upon them in the
deaths Of the sons in after years had
served to bring them together. Each
had waited for the other to speak, and
both had kept silence.
Mrs. Day came to the vendue. as
Mrs. Pickett had predicted.
Mrs. Pickett sat in the big rocking
chair on the little porch and watched
the progress Of the sale through q
mist Of tears.
Other friends came and spoke words
Of cheer and sympathy. but Rachel
Day. prosperous and happy. kept aloof.
Occasionally she glanced toward her
old friend as she sat on the porch, a
pathetic figure in her widows weeds,
her gray head bowed and her handker-
chief often at her eyes. but If Mrs.
Day felt sorry for Mrs. Pickett she did
not say so.
'Going. going. going, gentlemen and
ladies'! Four and half has been Of.
fered for this solid oak chest, as good
as it was the day it was made. Four
and half I'm offered. Who'll make it
FIVE? Five. five. five-who says it?
Are you all done, ladies and gentle.
men: Third and last call and-sold
for four and half to the lady with
the brown silk dress and black lace
shawl!
The lady with the brown silk dress
and black lace shawl was Rachel Day.
Mrs. Pickett fancied she saw a gleam
Of triumph in the eyes Of the new
owner of the chest.
Mrs. Day bought several Of the
things offered, and Mrs. Pickett added
to her sorrow sting Of resentment
and injured pride with each purchase
Rachel made.
"She does 1t only to aggravate me" !"
Mrs. Pickett thought. But let her 70
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