The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1916-07-31
By Kate Trimble Sharber.
Copyrighted.
CHAPTER /.
Strained Relations.

rich Christie connection (which
mother had always regarded as
outlaws as we'll as inlaws,) shak-
ing its finger across the chisten-
ing font into mothers boarding
school face on the day of my
baptism.
with Tom Christie only six
weeks in spirit-land 1t isn't de-
cent?" Cousin Polite finished up
individually.
But, since you must be freak
ish, why not call her Prudence,
or Patience-to keep Oldburgh
from wagging its tongue in two?"
Aunt Louella suggested.
Oldburgh isn't the towns
name, of course, but it's a de-
scriptive alias.
"Oldburgh knows howl feel"
mother replied. IF the baby
had been a boy l should have
named him Theodore-gift of
God-but since she's a girl, her
name Is Grace"
Calling her the whole of the
doxology isn't going to get that
Christice leek off he's" fathers
family shifted. "She is the living
image of Uncle Lancelot!"
my child like that notorious
Lancelot Christie!" mother burst
into tears. why, she's Moore,
I'll have you understand. She's
the image of my revered father"
There's something in that,
Pollie," admitted Aunt Louella,
who was the weakened one of
the sisters. Look at the poetic
little brow and expression of
spiritual intelligence"
But what combination"
Aunt Hannah pointed out. las
sure as you're living woman this
mouth and chin are like Uncle
Lancelot!-Think of it-Jacob
Moore and Lancelot Christie liv-
ing together in the same skim"
why, they'll tear the child limb
from limb" This piece OF sar-
casm from old great-great-aunt,
Patricia. Christie, who never took
sides with anybody in family dis
putes.
"She's remarkably like Uncle
Lancelot, aunty," Cousin Polite
declared.
Il "She's a thousand times more
like my father than /. myself,
am" poor little mother Allowed
stanchly.
Then, all I've got to say is that
it's a devilish bad combinatipn!""
Aunt Patricia threw out. "
And to pursue the matter fur
Their, may state that it was! You
believe in a dual personality"
Well, they're mile!"
Then, with this Christening and
bit of genealogical gossip by way
Of introduction, the next mile
stone in my career came one day
when the twentieth century was
in its wee small figures.
Il hate Grandfather Moore and
Uncle Lancelot Christie, both!"
| confided to Aunt Patricia upon
that occasion, having been sent to
her room to make her a duty
visit, as l was home for the holt
days. 81 wish you could be vac
cinated against your ancestors.
Are they in you to stay?"
Hate your ancestors? Grace,
you amaze mel" she said.
il But she mimicked mothers
voice.-mother's hurt, helpless,
moral-suasion voice-as she said
it, and we both burst out laugh
ing.
/! / leaped to my feet and sprang
across the room to where three
portraits hung on the opposite
wall. They represented an ad-
miral, an ambassador and an ar
! fist.
"Why can't you adopt an an
cestor, as you can child?" l
asked again, turning back to her.
Il Adopt an ANCESTOR"
II Her voice was trembling with
excitement.
81 only meant that I'd prefer
these to grandfather and Uncle
Lancelot," / explained soothingly,
but her anxiety only increased.
(Which one?" she demanded.
which one, Grace
THE artist"
Come here! Come here
quick!" she painted weakly.
Yes, 'um."
She wiped away a tear, in great
shame, for she was not a weep
ing woman.
Thank Heaven!" she said an
g,rily. That awful problem Is
settled at last! / knew / couldn't
have a moments peace a-dying
until / had decided. Now, listen!
I'm going to leave you something
something very precious.y Do
you know about that artist over
there-James Mackenzie Christie
our really famous ancestor-my
great-uncle, who has been dead
these sixty years, but will always
be immortal? Do you know
about him?"
II "Yes-I know!" ~
III "Well, I'm going to leave
those letters-those love letters
to you!"
/ drew back, as IL she'd, point
ed a pistol straight at me. rot,;
ii "But they're the skeleton in
the closet" repeated, hsVing
heard 1t expressed that way all
you'll understand them" she
replied. Poor little, heart