The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1914-07-18

I p
The next day Aunt Tabby departed,
and all the members of the Tucker
family, Mr.. Harkenstein included, saw
her to the train. Again the borrowed
intended had to kiss the old maid
and again she assured the young
couple, Il won't forget you."
When they reached home, Papa
Tucker took the piano teacher aside
and said: Mr.. Harkenstein, you've
played your part exceedingly well. All
is over now. Accept my best thanks,
and there" Shaking hands with him,
he proffered ten-dollar bill But the
teacher declined the money and
smiled. Don't, it was only a pleasure
for me-" he said.
Emily, who stood near by, blushed,
and Mamma Tucker murmured some
thing like, "A nice man, indeed" She
meant the declining of the money, Of
course, not the man himself, who was
neither lord nor Freiherr Won.
A few weeks passed by. The sun
gained new warmth and strength, and
the snow melted. A delicious breeze
blew from the southwest and brought
a sweet message from the spring. The
flowers awoke and peeped out of the
green carpet of the earth, and-hark!
there is a robin singing his first song
of love, yonder on the willow with the
silver-gray pussies.
Mamma Tucker busted herself with
no Ett1n nor oh ho1 IN,
the back yard, and her daughter said
she would attend to the flowers
farther back along the fence. For a
time Mrs. fuckers mind was wholly
occupied with her tomatoes and peas
and spinach and onions, but suddenly
she remembered that Emily should
look after the bleeding heart which
was just peeping out of the ground.
So she FASTENED to the other side of
the garden, toward the fence. And
there, behind a clump of shrubbery,
leaned Emily over the fence, already
taking care of the bleeding heart Of
the piano teacher, who now kissed her
without waiting for the command of
Aunt Tabby. Nor did Emily hesitate
in the least to return the kisses, and
there seemed no end to it.
At first Mrs. Tucker was beyond
words. She could not even mutter an
CO.." But very soon she recovered
and found her, voice-and what a
sound voice-again.
"Emily!" she snapped; you'll go
right away into the house. And you,
Mr.. Harkenstein, who in the world are
you to make love to my daughter? Not
word! I warn you against being
seen around here once mere. My
daughter is too good for such a-such
a-hungry piano teacher. Begone!"
Mr.. Harkenstein pressed his lips
together sadly and withdrew. A dark
cloud yelled the sun. The robin on
the tWig ceased to sing his love song
and the bleeding heart was trampled
down into the ground. But the very
next moment the bright sunshine
again flooded the landscape, and the
robin fluttered nearer and trilled
sweeter than before his love song into
the ears of the angry Mrs. Tucker
Furiously she went into the house, and
/, lectured poor Emily for an hour.
1t was few days later when Mr.
Harkenstein sat in his room at his
old piano and sadly played the 'Last
4 Rose of Summer" He paused often
and sighed oftener, till just in the
midst of deep sigh there resoundet
knock on the door, and his land
lady handed him letter which the
mail-carrier had just delivered. He
looked little wonderingly at the en-
ve1ope. The name at the upper cor
ner-John B. Wiley, Attorney-was
wholly strange to him. Wonderingly
he opened the letter, and read and
read it time and again. Then he
blinked into a dark corner of the
room, and then read the letter for the
fifth time, shaking his head, rubbing
his eyes, and finally pinching himself
to assure himself if he were really
awake. Yes, the pain said he was
Therefore is must be true that he had
received letter from John B. Wiley
attorney of Aunt Tabby, in which he
was informed that the old lady had
been taken away suddenly, but not