The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1936-03-25

how he's been failure as hus-
band and a provider."
Marcia looked startled. THAT
doesn't sound like Uncle Bengie
I'm always Boosting about how he
went into business in his sixties
instead of retiring on a pension"
Eyes, BENCHES right spry, consid-
erin he's near seventy" his wife
agreed pridefully. But the starch
kinda went out of him this spring
right after I went up to Truro to
see the new house Howard Marshall
built for hisself. And mighty
drafty barn of a place it was, too
I told Bengie afterwards. A mess
Of old ironwork and doors sent
over from Italy, mind you'll"
Howard Marshall" Marcia re-
f1ected. Isn't he the manufacturer
who sends you those mill-end silks
every year?"
There's the last lot" The ole
lady jerked her sleek head to-
ward a pile of unopened boxes in
a corner and sighed. Seems like
my acceptin' them samples from
Howard-just to show l wasn't
goin' to let Bengie tell me what to
do and what not-has caused more
rumpus in our lives than the prin-
ciple of the things been worth
Bengie was never one to come right
out and say what bothered him
And it amt healthy to let poison
pile up in your system. I'm just as
much to fault for not lettin' on ]
know why he gets dignified and
silent whenever them boxes come
Marcy. if anything serious was to
happen, I'd blame myself" the
old voice wavered.
Marcia was stunned by this
revelation. Here at last was the
explanation of Uncle Bengie's peri
odical retirements. He was jealous
of a former rival who'd found an
irritating way of Haunting his sue
cess. Looking back to her child
hood, she recalled innumerable
other boxes of jewel-toned sample
brocaded taffetas, corded satins
and squares of lush velvet. Many
a time, as special rainy-day treat,
she'd been allowed to select pieces
large enough for dolls clothing
And at fairly regular intervals
those same silken scraps had mi
grated to members of the family in
the form of the counterpanes Aunt
Lizbeth had a genius of designing
Yet, come to think of it, not one of
those quilts adorned bed in this
house.
A LOUD she asked, Then you've
L n never regretted your choice?"
Her aunt's black eyes snapped
as if she'd uttered a blasphemy.
Certainly -not Bengie's the
smartest man I ever knew. Folks
say he can smell early American
originals mile off. Do you 'spose
I'd trade my Bengie-ornery as he
is sometimes-fo a fat lump OF
boredom who's had to travel the
world over to pick up ideas the
good Lord forgot to put into his
thick head? Indeed I would not!"
Above the brief silence that fol-
lowed, a sound other than the pat
tering rain issued from the region
near the head of the stairs. The
tell-tale creaking of loosened
board.
The alert old lady cooked her
head sidewise. A satisfied smile
twitched her lips. "So-the old
busybody's been listenin'! Marcy"
she raised her voice a notch, "it's
pity to throw them boxes into
the trash barrel. But I'm tired of
having my house cluttered Up"
Il could use those silks for my
sewing class" Marcia quickly picked
up her cue. Children love bright
materials"
Then you take 'em right along,
child. I've a mind to let up on my
needlework. You tell your mother
she's to give you that quilt with
the rose basket design she's put
in her guest room. 1t was meant
for your wedding present any way
only you kept putin off the day.
Can't see why. I hear tell Alans
dom right we'll with his real estate"
Yes, business is BETTER" Marcia
said thickly Something caught in
her aunt's lace collar as she threw
an impulsive arm about the small
figure. Aunt Lizbeth, I won't take
your pretties, unless you'll accept
this in exchange" Hurriedly she
unclasped the friendship bracelet.
Thanks, Marcy" Lizbeth Prem
tice gravely accepted the gift.
Again signs of life came from
that dim region above stairs. A
shuttle of slippers, and Benjamin
Prentice coughed his usual prelude
to speech. 'Lizbeth, what you
cookin' that smells so good?"
Wiping her hands across her eyes,
his wife answered, fish chowder,
Bengie." And to the girl: You go
tell your young man there's plenty
for all of us. You say he can smoke
his pipe indoors bein' as this is a
special celebration.
Marcia ran out of the house and
down the cockle-shell path calling,
ALAN! Alan!" What if he had
gone away for good What if he
were off in some God-forsaken place
like Java! Which seemed a fitting
place for Walter Cotton to remain
indefinitely.
The urgency of her summons
brought Alan springing up the path.
Anything wrong. darling?" With
the right infection this time.
Marcia went straight into his
arms, chung to him. "Oh. Alan, I've
been foolish, but I do love you.
And I've missed you'll"
Then We won't wait any longer;
he fulfilled her thought with the
positivness of mind already made
up. From now on we quarrel as
man and wife. If We must quarrel"
And when he kissed her with the
old fervor. Marcia blessed Lizbeth
Prentice for opening her eyes.
TIE END.