The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1928-02-03

| ~ from the street to enter the
~ house she heard swift fall of
steps behind her and a painting
voice:
"Wait, Classy! want to see you"
1t was ELY Marsh, who doubtless
had seen Classy passing by, had
thrown shawl over her head and
run out to intercept her.
II was watching for you and called
to you" ELY said. "but | guess you
didn't hear. I've got something for
YOU Therei" She pressed small
package into Cassy's hand. Then in
answer to Cassy's astonished look, she
added: "You know what it's for,
don't you? Your birthday
ooh, yes! This is my birthday, isn't
it? Do you know couldn't think for
a minute. How good of you to re-
member it, ELY! And thanks for the
gift. You always are such a darling,
in the street with Miss Piper watch
ing us from her kitchen window,
should certainly kiss you"
at isn't anything of great value,
only remembrance" ELY said. "And
| now | must run or my potatoes will
burn"
She was gone, and Classy went on
into the house. a smell of turnip met
| her in the hall. Upstairs she could
hear Miss Frost and Miss Marx, two
no no
ahead of her, talking through open
doors as they prinked for lunch.
There was no one in the sitting room,
and Classy went in there to open her
package. Her birthday! She had for
cotton all about it; her thirty-sixth
not remembered it. What had ELY
given her? What could any one give
her that could brighten the fact of her
being thirty-six, alone and obliged to
work hard for her living?
Without expectation or thrill Classy
opened the little package and found
a delicately handmade handkerchief
wrapped about something thin and
hard. A card? No, picture-a pho
tograph of herself. Now, where had
ELY got hold of that, and what did
she mean? Classy turned the photo
graph over and found that ELY had
scrubbed on the back: "This is the
way you looked at twenty. Compare
it with the way you look now, and be
thankful for your thirty-sixth BIRTH
day!'
A smile twitched at Cassy's lips as
she gaZed at the little picture which
recalled to her an almost forgotten
self at twenty. Hair dragged back
from a forehead into a high pompa-
6Our, built up over a scratchy jute
pad, exposed ears, collar straining her
neck, huge sleeves-how funny! And
her face was long-she had been thin
at twenty. Looks as if l could have
eaten oats out of a churn, as grand
mother used to say" she commented
with amusement. And yet, too, she
felt curious bit of sympathy for the
girl with the pompadour who had
been herself sixteen years ago. What
fool the girl had been, to think that
EnOch Morrow could care for her!
She could understand now, looking at
the little photograph, why he hadn't;
why he had married Alice Simpson
and gone away into a life unknown
of the Castle Checkers.
The lunch bell was jangling, and
Classy, tucking the picture away in
side her blouse, went into the dining
room. About the huge square table
gathered seven people besides Classy.
Mrs. Highly sat at the head, Mr.. Hig-
by at the foot, and on either side were
ranged the boarders. Classy sat be-
tween Mrs. Pike and Mr.. Horton, who
was staying there while his wife made
her annual visit to her old home.
81 snan't be here after today, folks"
Mr.. Horton announced. SCOT letter
from Molly this morning and she says
she will be home tonight"
"Sorry to lose you, I'm sure" said
Mrs. Pike in her stiff way.
"Sorry to co." rejoined Mr.. Horton.
And as Jenny just then came in with
the roast, conversation subsidized for
some minutes.
Classy hurried through lunch in Or
der to have a moment at ELY Marsh's
before she had to return to the office.
And ELY, taking her by the shoulders,
marched her up to the big mirror,
triumphantly.
Nov that you have seen the way
you looked at twenty, l want you to
see how you look now" she said.
Classy looked, rather shyly. She saw
a woman who appeared younger than
she was, woman charmingly plump
and rosy, who had an air of well-being
and style. The memory of the little
photograph was still with her and she
smiled.
"Well-1 certainly weigh MORE" she
admitted.
81 should say SO! You were skin
and bones when that picture was TAX
en-grieving yourself to death over
Enoch Morrow. Now you don't look
Grewsome Objects In