Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1893-1920, 1910-07-05
The Argus Daily Short Story
The Dragon Screen-By Clarissa Mackie.
Copyrighted 1870 by Associate Literary PresA

When the last wagon load of furni-
ture had turned out of the avenue into
the hiShroad and the auctioneer had
furled his red flag and driven away
from the old mansion set among tall
growing locusts Deborah Ames smiled
quiZzically ut her niece.
u suppose you think my hearts
broken, Polly" she said quietly.
Il saved what l wanted. dear"
Polly Ames stared. You are trying
to be brave, you dear thing" she cried
impulsively. IF you had only listen
ed and had let me go TO work you
could have saved all the things that
you have always had about you"
And Of which l am drcadfully
tired" interposed her aunt. with sud
den energy. "Larkin says the things
brought two hundred and fifty, and
that will keep Us Il year. Polly. You
see, father left the place free and clear
because he did not want his daughters
to work for Il living He said the in
come from the securities would be suf-
icient to support us for life. But we
were never able to find any trace of
them. You remember how poor moth
er and l searched for the papers UP to
the very day OF her death, and look
and look now. though l am very doubt
full whether father ever had them. and
yet
81 could teach music" said Polly
mutinousIy Tor the hundredth time in
the past year.
My dear" cried Miss Deborah for
the hUndrcdth time. your grandfather
Amcs left III ample fortune enough
to educate you and support us for the
rest of our Gays"
where is it. tkcn?" Polly saw her
own flushed face in the long mirror
and beside il Aunt Deborah's tired
counteuancc, and her tender heart
smote her. Don't let us talk about
it any more tonight, Aunt Deb. You
will sleep on the davenport tonight?
You sold the very beds. you know"
Polly gently.
Come with me, my child. You
have not made a trip to the south gar
ret this many Il day, I'll warrant"
smiled Miss Deborah.
IN this attic were many strangely |
sheeted forms that crowded the small |
space.
Carefully Miss Deborah withdrew |
the dusty sheets and, rolling them into |
balls, disclosed n closely packed mass
of furniture.
Polly gazed open mouthed. what |
is it, aunt Deb? Where did you get |
1t? Why--it's solid mahogany. oh.
the dear tables-and the highboysl
SheratOn-and real |
cOloHial"' Her pretty nose was poked |
here and there among the treasures,
and her charming face was reflected
from a dozen dim mirrors.
Miss Deborah smiled sadly. ct is
my very own, Polly, dear. 1t was left
20 me by my grcat-aunt Hester, and
t has remained stored away here for
twenty-five years. / planned to give
his TO you and Dick for a wedding
gift, but l shall need it for awhile.
After / am gone
Polly stopped her sentence with
Kiss. after you are gone, indeedr
she cried Indignantly. You know that
you are to live with us as soon as
.ver Dick makes enough money to
tart a home. What a beautiful house
We will have-eh, Aunt Deb?"
She waltzed the stiff backed spinster
bout the limited space until Miss
)eborah's flying skirt caught in pro-
Getting nail and dragged gathering to
he floor a tall screen whose frame
vas Of carved ebony paneled with
eavy Chinese embroidery, now faded
nd dull.
Polly picked it up with a little ex-
lamation of delight. what is this,
Aunt Deb? Why have you kept this
Dvely screen hidden?''
"Great-aunt Hester left it to my |.
ather, dear. He was very fond of it.
nd for years it stood close to his desk.
When he was quite helpless we used it
D encircle his chair and ward off the ;
RATS. 1t grew quite old and shaky
nd needed mending. and as no one :
ut n skilled workman could mend the
elicate carving it was placed up here
fter father's death and of course