Cut Bank pioneer press. [volume] (Cut Bank, Mont.) 1909-current, 1915-03-19
CHAPTER l..
The Tea Table.

AngelineiS slender, wiry form and
small, glossy gray head bent over he
squat brown teapot as she shook o.
the last bit of leaf from the canister.
The canister was no longer hers, nei-
Their the teapot, nor even the battered
old pewter spoon with which she
tapped the bottom of the tin to dis
lodge the last flicker of tea-leaf dust.
The three had been sold at auction
that day in response to the auction
GERS inquiry, What am l bid for the
lot?"
Nothing in the familiar old kitchen
was hers, Angelina reflected, except
Abraham, her aged husband, who was
taking his last gentle ride in the old
rocking chair-the old armchair with
painted roses blooming as brilliantly
across its back as they had bloomed
when the chair was first purchased
forty years ago. Those roses had
come to be a source of perpetual o
der to the old wife, an ever-present ex-
ample.
Neither time nor stress could wilt
them a single leaf. When Abe took
he first mortgage on the house in
order to invest in an indefinitely locat-
ed Mexican gold mine, the melodeon
dropped one Of it's keys, but the roses
nodded on with the same old sunny
hope; when Abe had to take the Sec
ond mortgage and Tenaf1y Gold be-
came a forbidden topic of converse
ton, the minute hand fell off the par
Tor clock, but the flowers on the back
Of the old chair blossomed on none
the less serenely.
The soil grew more and more bar
rem as the years went by; but still the
roses had kept fresh and young, so
why, argued Angy, should not she? If
old g and the pinch of poverty had
failed to conquer their valiant spirit,
why should she listen to the croak-
ing tale? If they bloomed on with the
same crimson fiaunt of color, though
the rockers beneath them had grown
warped and the body OF the chair
creaked and groaned every time one
ventured to sit in it, why should she
not ignore the stiffness which the
years seemed to bring to her joints,
Lie GOIlQldlnIo WAICn AGI UOQy buIGdt-
ened every now and again to utter,
and fare or herself, a hardy perennial
bravely facing life's winter-time?
Even this dreaded day had not TAX
an one fraction of a shade from the
glory of the roses, as Angelina could
see in the bud at n side of Abra-
hams head and the full-blown flower
hnl0u hin yiohf nor. On mhu ChoarId
she droop because the sale of her
household goods had been somewhat
Disappointing? Somewhat? When
the childless old couple, still sailing
under the banner of a charity-forbid-
ding pride, became practically reduced
to their last copper, just as Abe's
joints were 'loosenin' up" after a five
years siege of rheumatism, and de-
cided to sell all their worldly posses
sions. apart from their patched and
~threadbare wardrobes and a few mea-
ger keepsakes, they had depended
upon raising at least two hundred dol
lars, one-half of which was to secure
Abe a berth in the Old Mems home at
Indian Village, and the other half to
make Angelina comfortable for life, ii
q little lonely, in the Old Ladies' home
in their own native hamlet of Shore.
Vile. Both institutions had been gen.
erously endowed by the same estate,
and were separated by a distance OF
but FIVE miles.
Might as waal be five hunderd, with
my rheumatic an yer weak heart
Abraham had growled when Angy first
proposed the plan as the only digni
fed solution to their problem of living
But" the little wife had rejoined
'It1l be a mite o. comfort a-knowin' q
body's 80 near, even eff yer can't gil
tew EN-"
Now, another solution must be found
to the problem; for the auction was
over, and instead of two hundred dol
lars they had succeeded in raising but
one hundred dollars and two cents.
THAT air tew cents was fer thu
fiour-sifter," inwardly mourned Angy
IAN it's with double an trtbble, fe,
It's been a good friend ter me fer nigf
on ter eight year"
-Tew cents on the second hundred
said Abe for the tenth time. "T'yS
counted 1t over N v e One hun
derd dollars an tew pesky pennies
An l never hear a man tell SO many
lies In my life as that air a~uctioneer
Yew'd a. thought he was sellin' on
the empery o. Rooshy. Hy-guy, i
sounded splendid. Fust of / though
he'd raise us more n we expected
An mebbe he would have tew, Angy,
a bit ruefully, "ef yew d a. let m,
advertise a little sooner. I dom
s'pose half Shoreville knows yit tina
we was gwine ter have a auction sale.
He watched the color rising In he
cheeks with a curious mixture Of prid,
In her pride and regret at its conse
Qusnces. ITS no use a-talkin'. moth