The Chanute times., 1913-01-10

Captain Mayo's big house-the fines
In Trumet, with the exception Of the
Daniels mansion-and descended into
the hollow beyond. Here, at the cor
ner where the Lighthouse Lane" be
gins its winding way over the rolling
knolls and dunes to the light and the
fish shanties on the ocean side." stood
the plain, straight.up-and-dow meet
ing house Of the Regular society. Di
rectly opposite was the little parson
age, also very straight up and down
Both were painted white with green
blinds. This statement Is superfuous
to those who remember Cape architec
ture at this period; practically every
building from Sandwich to Province
town was white and green.
They entered the yard, through the
gap In the white fence. and went
around the house. past the dripping
evergreens and the bare. wet lilac
bushes, to the side door. the lock Of
which Keziah's key fitted. There was
lock on the front door. Of course.
but no one thought OF meddling with
that. That door had been opened but
once during the late pastors thirty
year tenantry. On the occasion OF his
funeral the mourners came and went.
Mrs. Coffin thrust the key into the
| to turn It.
"Humph!" she muttered, twisting to
| no purpose; II don't see why This
must be the right key. because
Well, declare, If 1t amt unlocked
already! That's some Of Cap'n Ell
kanah's doin's. For a critter as fussy
and particular about some things, he's
careless enough about others. Mercy
we amt had any tramps around here
lately. Come in"
She led the way into the dining
room Of the parsonage. Two Of the
blinds shading the windows Of that
apartment had been opened when she
and Captain Daniels made their visit
and the dim gray light made the room
more lonesome and forsaken in appear
ance than deeper gloom could pos
sibly have done. The black walnut
extension table In the center, closed to
its smallest dimensions because Par.
son Langley had eaten alone for so
many years; the black walnut chairs
set back against the wall at regular
intervals; the rug carpet and braided
mats-home emade donations from the
ladies Of the parish-on the green
painted floor; the dolorous pictures on
the walls; Death of Washington,
"Stoning Of Stephen" and still more
deadly fruit piece" committed in oils
years ago by a now deceased boat
painter. The blinds and window be-
ing opened. more light entered the
room. Grace glanced about it curl
ously.
so this is going to be your new
home now, Aunt Keziah." she OBJ
served. How queer that seems"
"Um-hm. Does seem queer, don't
It? Must seem queer to you to be so
near the headquarters Of everything
your uncle thinks is wicked. Smell of
birthstone any, does it?" she asked
with smile.
She threw open another door. A
room gloomy with black walnut and
fragrant with camphor was dimly Wis
ible.
"Cheerful's a tomb, amt IT." was
Mrs. Coffins comment. "Well, We'll get
some light and air In here pretty
soon. Here's the front hall and there's
the front stairs. The parlor's off to
the left. We won't bother with that
yet while. This little place in here
is what Mr.. Langley used to call his
study Halloa! how this door sticks!"
The door did stick, and no amount
Of tugging could get 1t open, though
Grace added her efforts to those Of Ke-
ziah.
"'Tain't locked" commented Mrs.
Coffin, "cause there aint any lock on
It. guess it's 'ust swelled and stuck
from the damp. Though it's odd, |
don't remember Oh, well! never
mind. Let's sweeten up this settin'
room little. Open a window or two
want to do anything before 1t gets
dark. I'm goin into the kitchen to get
a broom"
She hurried out, returning In a mo-
ment or two with broom and a most |
disgusted expression.
"How's a body goin to sweep with |
that?" she demanded, exhibiting the |
frayed utensil. the business end Of
which was worn to a stub. More like |
a shovel, enough sight. Well. there's |
pretty nigh dust enough for a shovel,
so maybe thisTl take of the top lay
ers. S'pose I'll ever get this house fit
for Mr.. Ellery to live in before he |
comes? wonder II he's a particular
man?
Grace, who was struggling with re-
fractory window. paused for breath.
I'm sure don't know" she re-
piled. "I've never seen him."
Nor either. Sol was so bad the
Sunday he preached that couldn't go
to meetin' They say his sermon was
fine; all about those who go down to
The sea in ships. That's what got the
parish committee. | guess; they're all
old salts. ! wonder If he's as fine-look-
in as they say?"
Mice Van Horna toseed her hood