The Lake County times. [volume] (Hammond, Ind.) 1906-1933, 1911-01-10

MATTHEW SHEPPARD AT HOME
Poverty but not my VIII consents
Shakespe
Th9 morning was as dreary one
could well be ina gined. even for an
Ingiish November. Ever since day
break a heavy wet mist hung over the
sodden meadows and dripping trees. and
the few remaining leaves dropped one
by one. as If the burden of existence
was too great and the sooner they were
frodden under foot the better they
would be pleased.
The garden. if such it could be called
which surrounded Brentborough House
lawn. ragged and untidy. had little
pools of water here and there, telling
beds still contained withered and mil
dewed stalks of what had been mig
nonette. candytuft and other common
ANIMALS. showing that somebody dur
ing the past summer, had made an eff
fort TO brighten the dreary place. how
ever slightly.
tion was even greater The big bare
hail. with its few pieces of carpet, its
broad oak staircase. gufltless OF ordi-
nary care or polishing. the sitting
rooms. thick with dust. all told their
own tale of neglect and bad manage
ment, and over all was the sign manual
or either extreme poverty or pars1-
mony.
From the appearance of the owner of
the place. as he hobbled slowly down
the stairs at 3 o'clock and entered a
small room a the back OF the hall, one
would have said poverty must be the
ruling spirit. His coat was green with
II wanted more nourishment than it got.
and his sharp ferret-like eyes peered
out from shaggy brows with a keen
and hungry look, such as one sees In
the faces of starving children in the
slums of our large towns
With the aid OF his stick ne tottered
over to the hearth rug in the small
breakfast parlor and rang the bell vio-
lently. While awaiting a response he
the table, where it was evident some
one had breakfasted already.
A gaunt. middle-aged woman entered
presently with tray containing
small teapot and covered dish of ba-
con, which she proceeded TO set upon
the table.
Where is my granddaughter? her
master inquired sharply. and the wo-
man answered in a tone, half peevfsh,
half indifferent: II don't know where
she is; she had her breakfast hour
az LOOK odS here here / Win not not have this.
the old man said angrily. 1T is just
ANOTHER excuse , for s,qla ailIn none
over and frying two lots of bacon
Martha do you hear me? as the wo-
man walked toward the door
Yes, sir. ] hear YOU fast enough, but
Miss Byng. she comes down. and orders
what she wants, and who's to know
You know we'll enough. women. She
knows. too. the good for nothing. girl.
.
are over. l will be obeyed in my own
house. or Tll-Tll turn everyone else
out of iti'
And a nice plight you would be in
then" muttered Martha, as she left the
room. allowing herself the doubtful
satisfaction of slamming the breakfast
room door behind her. But scarcely
had she got to her own regions at the
rear of the house when another peal Of
the bell recalled her. and grum bling
considerably, she returned to her mas
ter.
Send Miss Byng to me-" he ordered
gruffly. and Martha answered: Il don't
Find out, then. Send one of those
nothing but fatten their useless car
casses at my expense. Tell her L want
her at once"
Martha left the room once more. and
old Matthew Sheppard sat down to his
breakfast. having first removed from
them in the crate for future consump-
ton. He ate sparingly, as il ne grudg-
ed himself the food and. his meal fn-
ished sat down beside the hearth. cast
ing impatient glances at door and win
dow from time to time. 1t was a COM
fortress apartment-the carpet was
threadbare, the curtains skimp and
torn: the solid mahogany sideboard and
table were the only pieces of furniture
of any value, and the chairs We're plain
wooden Windsor ones. without cover
ing. except one ld-fashioned arm
chair. with a faded cretonne cover, in
which the old man was now seated
1t was close on 10 o'clock before the
door opened and girl entered with an
air of independence and self-reliance
which seemed strangely out OF place
in that atmosphere.
You sent for me- grandfather" she
said interrogatively.
Yes. did. have things to say to
you. Shut the door girl; why do you
leave II open in such weather." and old
Mr.. Sheppard shivered with cold
Why don't YOU have a decent FREQ
she asked, closing the door and ad =
yancing to the hearth. where she seized
the poker and would have made an on
slaught on the Goals, but he stopped
her sayageIy.
Put that down. do you hear me !?