Arizona sun., 1948-02-27

N1NEW IIlC Z all dOdy A0AAA~J
L fore it happened. I knew them
first when I was nine and Ellen
Farraday was eight and in my class
at school.
There were two other Farraday
children: Skippy, the baby, who
was five, and Dora, seventeen, just
entering business school. Dora was
engaged to marry Danny Wright,
who ran the service-station in town.
Mr.. Farraday was branch manager
Of our local bank. 'Such a nice,
quiet man." people said. IF only
that wife Of his were not such a
fool"
didn't think Mrs. Farraday was
a fool. I liked her. The sprawling
old Farraday house, with its sag
ging porch, was always in need
of repair, the shabby living-room
would be cluttered and dishes un-
washed, but Mrs. Farraday was
never too busy to plan games for
rainy afternoons or picnics in sum-
mer in their rickety old car. She
was little and quick and dark, with
rather kittenish ways; always
thinking up something new and ''ex-
citing'-like the dress she designed
for Dora that won the prize in the
Easter parade.
There was nothing I loved more
than going over to the Farraday
house whenever I had the chance.
Saturday mornings they always had
pancakes; Sundays they had sau-
sages and Boston baked beans and
applesauce in blue glass dish. And
they had laughter. A great deal of
laughter-except when Aunt Abbey
came to call.
Aunt Abbey was Mr.. Farraday's
aunt, a very rich, very unpleasant
old lady who lived in an imposing
granite house at the end Of town. It
was no secret that she disapproved
bitterly of the entire Farraday fam
lily. Why she visited them nobody
knew, unless it was because, of all
her relatives, they refused to be i'm
pressed by her money or upset by
her caustic tongue. They merely
accepted her, all but Mrs. Farra-
day, who seemed to like having
Aunt Abbey around. Curiously
enough, it was of Mrs. Farraday
herself that Aunt Abbey most bit
terly disapproved.
my nephew's wife isn't fooling
me-" she'd say. always pretend
ing to be so gay. What's she got to
be happy about, I'd like to know? If
my nephew had married sensible
woman, he'd have amounted to
something by now"
st declare" my mother said, lit
gives me the creeps, the way that
old lady looks at Mrs. Farraday. I
believe she really hates her."
She hates them ALL" my father
said, because they've got what she
never had. The Farradays have
contentment. All Aunt Abbey has is
money, and when she's gone they'll
have that, too"
Only they didn't. Because when
Aunt Abbey died the year Ellen
Farraday was nine, she left them no
money at ALL Her entire estate went
to charity, with one exception. She
left Mrs. Farraday a rug. 1t was an
Oriental rug, exceptionally large
and lovely; golden in color, satiny
to the touch, starred with dusty
pink flowers.
''It's shame" people said,
''when those children need money
so. But of course they can sell the
rug. It's valuable and Orientals are
in vogue" Then a dealer offered
Mrs. Farraday $751; for her rug.
The town rejoiced for the Farra-
days This meant college for the
children and money to fix up the old
house. But, to the amazement of
everyone, Mrs. Farraday stubborn
ly refused to sell. She had always
admired that rug, she said. Shed
been as surprised as anyone when
A,,n% Ahhov bod left IL m her Che