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About The Oregon daily journal. (Portland, Or.) 1902-1972 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 20, 1908)
1 ) ' THE OREGON SUNDAY . JOURNAL, PORTLAND, SUNDAY MORNING, 'DECEMBER ,20, 9pS Cohyrtrftt: JCda. i'inOPPnRRRROPWP . 8 1 'J7j -.i : -v- -vi i ' i lit ir iimir-ti lira ;;sjwi7i.- - r,jr.-auairTei; "I M KEADT for another basket, sister!" cried Araminta. For the last i.'.x month, and more or less .1 h th whole year since the preceding Christmas, Aranilnta and Sarah White had been pre paring presents for the neighborhood and all their relatives: It was the day before Christmas now. and Araminta was distributing them, as was her annual wont. She was. wrapped up warmly-it was very cold and she carried a large empty basket. "Here, Ml It up again, quick!" she cried, and pulled off her llawl to help herself. Araminta's older sister, Sarah, artd the visiting cousin, Mrs. Martha Spear, from Ohio, began gathering up email neat parcels in white paper, tied with red cord, from the table and sofa where they were piled. 1 "Land! what a lot of folks you do remember. slid the cousin, placing parcels gingerly in the basket i "We don't leave out a single soul for half a mile ach way," said Sarah, proudly, "or. rather, Araminta d$n't She does the most of it." f "I don't do any more than you do. sister." said Ara minta. "I tell you those Luniklns children weje tickled when they nw me coming, poor little things. Every head waa in the window, noses Hat as dabs of putty gainst the glasses, the whole six." "Six children!" said the cousin. "Yes. ix," replied Sarah, "and the "father no money, and the mother no strength, all six sickly." 'And dirty," added Araminta, happily. . "Dreadful!" said the cousin. '"I can't help feelln' so sometimes," agreed Sarah, who wa at time gently pessimistic. But Araminta laughed witn connaence. on senses .,,, "Tea, and lie had et up his office with htm. Law yer Clark was kind of out of health? be didn't live long afterward, and Daniel would have had a good practice If he'd stayed right along here. But as soon aa hie father died he moved away to the city and aet up business there. I hear he's done very well. I think he's a Judge." "He was good-looking, too. as I remember." "Good looking! He was handsome aa handsome a fellow as I ever saw. There wasn't a young man In the vtllage to compare with him in looks or ap pearance." "And Araminta didn't take a fancy to him?" In quired the cousin, with wonder. "Tea, she took a fancy to him; at least she did at first. It wasn't that, poor child. No, I won't say poor child. She wasn't poor a mite about it after she'd given him up." "Araminta would have made a man a beautiful wife." assented the cousin. "I guess she would, and Daniel Rodgers knew it, too. He had a pretty long head." "Yes, I always thought he had." "He had. Well, he begun coming to see Araminta when she wasn't over 18. She always seemed older, though. Araminta was real womanly. She didn't eem to have any of the silly ways of most young girls. She knew what she did know, and she knew what she didn't know, and she was real strong on that last knowledge. She was a good housekeeper, young as she was. She took right hold; you know I was school teaching and mother wasn't very well,. It was three years after father died. You know we AlUUftt. About enough to live on that he left us, and He I fill (hum RAIMI Iii. C V f 1 1 ' $fi wwwi xvifr -jw vrm 7 'V mmm ' - --. Mm. said she, placing another parcel "Tou ought to have seen them Just now. It is six. times as much fun Christmas as one child could have, and who's going to say it isn't worth while? And I guess there's fun enough left over from this Christmas for their whole Uvea. Tou'd ought to have seen them, how they tickled and laughed, sickly and dirty, and everything. Mother used to say ahe didn't want to have a cat put ut of the world that took a mite of comfort in it, and t guess six children as happy as these this morn ing are more than cats. Their mother waa pleased, too." , - "Araminta made a nice flannel wrapper for her ant and made it Uerself," said Sarah. .- "She put it right on to see how it fitted, and she looked aa pretty aa a picture in it," said Araminta. The basket was full again, and she replaced the shawl over ber shoulders, and pinned it tightly around her neck. She gathered up the basket on her arm, and tood in the doorway a second, smiling at the two women before starting. f-' "Jest look at her!" cried the cousin, with a mixture of admiration and wonder and amusement. "If she . ain't the happiest-looking mortal I ever laid eyes on." ' Indeed. Araminta White, middle-aged, single, with the faded dulness of advancing life on her thin face, - with sparse gray hair, merely a line showing under er hood above a lift of candid forehead, which was heavily lined, seemed to give out a glow of pure de light. She was wonderful. Her blue eyes shone with Winethlng better than the youth of the flesh. She railed a smile which took hold of immortal bliss. She looked like un Incarnate joy. and the women dimly sensed It. Then she turned and went out, laughing happily like a child, like a goddess who holds youth and childhood forever. "I am happy," she called back. "My looks don't belie me! Nobody knows how I look forward to this all the year!" "She gives right through the year, too," Sarah aid, when the door had shut and Araminta had pass ed the windows. "I never saw anybody take so much comfort giving presents as Araminta. She can't give much in one way, either, for we haven't money enough, but she's a wonderful manager. She don't tint at home for any comforts, and we both have enough to look respectable." . The cousin sat swaying: back and forth in the rocking chair. She had not seen these relatives for years not since her own girlhood, when she lived In the same village. Now her husband was dead, and rt-.e .had returned r.-..ddle-aged, stout and rather opu lent, to take up some of the old threads of ber life. She had arrived the day before, and was to spend a . number of weeks with Sarah and Araminta. "Ara minta ain't changed very much in her looks," said be. Anally, with a reminiscent expression. "No," replied Sarah, "I don't see as she has. Of course living with anybody right along. It's harder to tell." Sarah was porhaps ten years older than the visiting cousin, tall and Mender, with an ineffaceable dignity of mien. She was fastening some little blue ribbon bows on the corners of n pincushion which Arnniinta was to take in the next basket, but she performed the trivial task with the same expression! with which she would have signed documents of state. She haden a school teacher for nearly forty years, and she'Vras stiffened into her old attitudes of life. ' t ''She has a real happy disposition," remarked the cousin, again. "And I can't see" She hesitated again a minute. j- Tou can't see as she's anything so wonderful to make her happier than other folks?" said Sarah. "Well, no, to -tell you the truth, Sarah, I can't." The eot'sin laujrhed apologetically. "Of course she's got a Kood. comfortable home here. She has all the comforts of -life, and she has you to live with, but" "You mean she never rot married." said Sarah, bluntly, with a slight tone of defiance. "I don't eupposo she cared to get married, or ahe would have," the cousin hastened to respond. - No. she didn't care to get married," Sarah said, with dignified emphasis,- &r she would have. Ara minta had a chance." "of course I knew she must havo," said the cousin. eMfrfrty, "Of course Araminta was so pretty look ' "Sh didn't have but one chance If she was pretty, but she did have one chance," said Sarah, firmly. "Who was, it? Anybody I know?" "Well. I think you must bave known him. It was Danll Itodgers." :. My, yes. Of course I used to know htm. He was, about my aire. I went to 'school with him. - Why. he- - pretty smart', wasn't lie? -His father had money." "ea. Ms Kit.'ier had a good deal .of money, and -. PsMftl was the only child. Araminta knew he was i-omluf in for a good deal, but she didn't think of that a seonnd. Come girls might have, but she didn't. He ri smsru too." lie ui.fl Jaw wits Uwnr Clark, didn't her. then my school teaching money was extra. We never Kept any help; Araminta did all the' work, and she made all the clothes. She did dess tasty, too. She was as pretty, as a picture, tooif I do say it.' I've sen young men turn to look after her a good many times, though Daniel' Rodgers was the only one that really went with her. Sometimes I used to think that Araminta was too pretty and too ladylike and too good, that she sort of scared them off. I think there is such a thing. Men want a girl more like them selves. Still, there weren't many young men here." "No, there weren't, especially young men," assented the cousin. "He called first one Wednesday evening, then the week after he walked home with her from' Friday evening prayer meeting. Then a week from the next Sunday be came and spent the evening, then, after that, he came pretty steady. 'He really is gibing with you. Isn't her I said to Araminta, after it had been kept up about six weeks; and she sort of colored up and laughed, and I saw that she had begun to think so. "Well, he had been going with Araminta nearly a year, and it waa coming Christmas, and we had begun to think of their being married in June. Araminta seemed Just as happy. I don't think she has ever been happy In the same way since, but she has been as happy, and hap pier, I guess, in another way. I guest she was thinking more about herself then than she ever has since. There was talk about Daniel building a house, though Ara minta would rather have planned to live with mother and me. She said she couldn't see how we were going to get along without her. We couldn't quite afford to keep help, and mother wasn't strong enough to do much, and I didn't have much time out of school, ex rept in the summer vacation. She had planned a good deal; well, the plans didn't ever come to anything. "Daniel was a young man who had always called around at different houses a good deal, and he did after he was going with Araminta. Of course, he didn't call ateady at any one place, so far as we knew, but we knew of his calling a good deal. He used to call on the Adams girls, and on Kate Slocuni and her aunt He used to tell us of it himself. Yes. folks talked and surmised, but they really didn't know any thing, not even how much he came to see Araminta, and it was lucky afterward for her that they didn't. It made it a good deal easier for her. I don't know what she would have done if she'd thought folks pitied ber, were looking and harking and pitying her. I guess that would have been too much even for Araminta. "Well, the day before Christmas came a beautiful firesent from Daniel for Araminta. She had been work ng hard on one, or rather two, for him a lovely pair of slippers with a letter D in a little wreath of roses on each toe, filled In with brown, and the handsomest crocheted scarf I ever laid my eyes on. You remember when men wore those great scarfs crocheted of worsted, years ago?" "Yes, I remember." ' "Well, that scarf was very long and wide, a pretty red color, and on each end was worked a stag's head and some green leaves. It was an elegant thing, and all the style then, and Araminta had worked real hard making it. His present for her came the day before Christmas, as I said. It was a most beautiful fan, white satin, all painted with roses, and spangled, with feathers on the edge, carved ivory sticks, and little looking-glasses on each end stick. I had never seen anything like It, and Araminta, she was so pleased she dldn t know what to do. she kept opening the box and looking at It. 'It seems as If It was too nice for me,' says she, 'and he was too extravagant,' and ahe was all kind of smiling and trembling at the same time,, and her cheeks were pink. I remember Just how she looked gazing at that fan. She looked pretty enough to kiss. Well, she had Just put the fan in the box for the dozenth time, and was working the litst green ctripe with some pink rosebuds, sitting by the south sitting room window In the sun. Just as happy, when we saw that girl come flying up the road." "What girl?" cried the visiting cousin, eagerly. "Her name was Grace Ormsby; she came from Bondville. I don't know whether you ever knew her. Hhe waa a' good deal younger. She wasn't quite so old as Araminta. , "'Do look at this girl coming, says I to Araminta,' and she looked. " 'Who in the world is itr says she. "'I never set eyes on her before,' says I. 'She looks kind of queer. I wonder if anybody's sick: and she' going for the doctor.' . " 'She can hardly walk, poor thing, says Araminta. -Then she cries out, dreadful astonished. "Why saya she,. 'she's coming In here!' And she was. That rlrl turned right in at our front gate. 'It's lucky I swept the path out this morning,' says Araminta, 'or she couldn't have got in at all. Tout It's blown in a good . .deal since..- - . . - : "'Who is itr says 11 kind ot tewnaerefl, peeking around -tha edge vf the window. . i-. , " 'I don't know,' says Araminta, Jumping up and going to open the door, 'but she can hardly walk, poor thing, whoever she Is. I'm sorry the snow has blown, in on the path so. I don't know but I'd better get the broom and sweep it off again, so she can get in.' "And Araminta did. The snow had blown in on the front walk pretty bad, and Araminta got the broom and ran out and swept away some, so the girl could get in without wading up to her knees. I went to the door, and stood there with a shawl over my head. " 'Are you Miss Araminta White?' I heard the girl kind of gasp out, while Araminta was swishing the broom In front of her. She stood as if she was going to melt right down like a snow image the next min ute, and I could see that her face In the red hood waa white as a sheet, and she had a kind of breathless look. " 'Yes,' says Araminta, sweeping away. 'I'm real sorry the path Isn't better. I swept It out this morn ing, but the wind blows se the snow flies right back about as fast as I can sweep it off. And it did, sure enough. Both those girls stood there in a kind of whirlpool of snow, all glittering and glistening like a rainbow. Araminta was laughing real pleasant, mak ing her broom fly as fast as she could, and the girl stood aa If she was Just about sinking down. There,' says Araminta, In a minute. 'Now I guess you can get In a little better,' and she moves ahead with her broom, and the girl tries to follow. But the first thing I knew she staggered and Araminta had dropped the broom and was hanging on to her. " " 'What's the matter?" I cried out I was seared. "'I guess she's faint,' says Araminta. 'Suppose you get a glass of the blackberry wine, Sarah.' Araminta was half dragging the girl up the walk. Her hood was on her neck by that time, and her head was lop ping, and she did look ghastly. " "Can you get her up the steps? I sings out And Araminta said she could, and she did; but I never knew how she managed, for the girl was as big as she was, and 'most as heavjr. I ran down cellar and got a bottle of blackberry wine. It was ten years old and( real strong. When I got upstairs Araminta had her hood and coat off and she was laying on the sofa. She kept trying to get up, though she didn't look as if she could sit up a second. She acted dreadful kind of nervous. "I poured out a good swig- of that blackberry wine in a tumbler, and I want up to her. 'Here, drink this.' says I, 'and then you'll feel better and yqu can get up.' "She looked up at me dreadful pitiful and sort of dazed, a real good little face she had, not pretty a bit, but good, with nice soft brown eyes and hair. She looked like a real, sweet, obedient little girl, and sen sible enough, If she didn't get to thinking too much of a man and be didn't treat her fair, and that made a fool of her. She was white and forlorn looking, poor child. I pitied her from the bottom of my heart, though I was out of patience with her, too. For my part. I have never seen how any woman could lose her' pride enough to go on the way she did over a mortal man. I've never seen any roan that was worth Jt Dan iel Rodgers wasn't, though he wasn't a bad youhg man, only too much like other men when it came to a pretty face. "Well, Just as soon as she bad swallowed that blackberry wine up she jumped. Araminta couldn't keep her down a minute longer. She was up on her two little feet, thin shoes and no rubbers in all that snow! If she had had a mother. I guess she would never have come out In that fashion, man or no man! Her mother was dead, and her aunt, her father's sis ter, had brought her up. She was kind of flighty, trout ' all I've heard." "Yes. she was," assented the cousfn, with a nod. "And her sister had Just married and gone away to live, and her father was in the city on business. He never knew about It, I guess. I don't know what he would have done. I've alwaya heard he was a pretty stern sort-Ot man." "So have I." "I guess he never knew of It I know Araminta and I never lisped a word about it, and I don't believe the girl did. I guess she had sense enough for that." "What did she do7" "Wei!, she Just stood up, and ran 'to the mantel shelf where there was a picture of Daniel Rodgers in a shell frame. Araminta had made the frame herself out of some shells she'd picked up on Barr Beach the summer before. She spent a week there in August. It was a real pretty frame. The shells were stuck in putty. It's In the parlor now, with a picture of a Ma donna that one of her Sunday-school scholars gave her in it. Well, that girl, she made straight for that picture, and she stood looking; at it dreadful wild and pitiful. 'It's true, then,' says he; then, all at once, in a voice so sharp that It didn't seem as if it could come from such a mild little mouth, 'I know it's true now,' says she, and she shakes her head and she looks at Araminta. "Araminta turned kind of pale, but ahe didn't lose her self-control. She spoke as calm and even as a clock 'What is it that you know Is true? says she. And she moves close to the girl, and puts her hand en her shoulder. The girl sort of pulls away from her at first, for all the world like a sulky baby. Then, all of a sudden, ber arras went round Aramlnta's neck and her head was on ber shoulder, and she was crying to break her heart, with her face hidden. "Then- Araminta she patted ber head and spoke real soothing. 'What is It, dear r says she. 'What is the matter? But the girl Just sobbed and sobbed. 'What la it, dear? says Araminta1 again. "Then the- girl ' raised her head, and stood off a little way, and looked at Araminta ' with her poor "' little face all of a quiver, and the tears streaming and her mouth all puckered up. 'I had hint first,' ays she. and the tears came again. "'Had who first? says Araminta, "'Dank, sobs the girl, "Daniel.' 'Do you mean Daniel Rodgers was going with you before he went with me?V says Araminta,' and she spoke sterber than I had ever heard her. "'Yes,' says the girL 'Yes, he was going with me ' a long time, ever since I Was in long dresses, lie used to see me home from places Aunt Clara didn't ' tell father, and then he used to coma to call real Often. . .- -: '....., . .'-- " "When did he coma to. ee you last?, says Ara- : minia ropp o -'( r " "Not since last Christmas time,' says the girt, and I heard Araminta draw a long breath. I knew what she had been afraid of, and had suspected htm of for' a minute that he had been to see both of them at the same time; but he wasn't so bad as that. I don'.t know as he had been so very bad, after all, only Aramlnta'a pretty face bad been a little too much for his faithfulness, because he was nothing but a man. He hadn't been very open, but I suppose he ' thought the least said soonest mended; and maybe ha hadn't been actually engaged to Grace Ormsby, after all, though she thought so, and he must have given her a good deal of reason to think he was serious. . "Well, she began to cry again, and Araminta stood looking at her, and I must say she had a beautiful expression. She was smiling; I didn't see how she could fetch a smile, but she did. Tou thought Daniel liked you?' says she. " 'Yes,' sobs the girl, 'he did. He used to like me bet ter than anybody till till he saw you.'. Then she sobs out loud. 'Oh, ob, if a 'most Christmas,' says she, 'and I can't bear it, I can'tl I won't have any present from him, and last Christmas he gave me such a beauti ful box of candy and a gold pin. Now I shan't have any present from him this year. Oh, I wouldn't have come if it hadn't been Christmas. I couldn't bear It The thinking of last Christmas, how happy I was, and this I shan't have any present from him.' " 'Perhaps you will,' says Araminta. " 'No, I shan't.' sobs the girl. 'He'll he'll give you the present this year!' "Thinks I, 'What would she say it aha were to see that fan? "I knew Araminta was thinking about it Then Araminta kind of started back, as if she couldn't help It, for all of a sudden, the girl ran to her again, and snuggled up to ber, and cried on her shoulder. " 'Oh, you wouldn't have taken him away if you had known how much I loved him, and how I had him first, would your says she, for all the world Ilk a child. "No, says Araminta, I wouldn't. "'I don't see why he left me for you,' says the girl. 'You are better-looking, but I didn't think that was what Daniel looked at more than anything else. I didn't think he was that kind of man, and he isn't, either, and you couldn't possibly love him any better than I do; and I am a pretty good housekeeper, and I was trying very hard to improve. Are you m very good scholar? ' " 'Not so very,' says Araminta, and she actually laughed a little. " 'I thought maybe you were, and that was the reason he liked you,' says the girl. 'Daniel Is such a scholar. I guess you must be more capable than I am, though I have tried very hard to be capable since Daniel began going with me. Are you so very capable?" " 'No, I guess not very,' says Araminta, but she spoke as if she wasn't thinking of what she was saying. "Then I speaks up for the first time. Yes. you are capable, too,' says I; you know you are capable.' "'Then that is the reason,' says the. girl, and she sobs, and" clings to Araminta. "I was getting out 'of patience. It seemed to mo I had never seen such goings-on. "Why don't you and she sit down, Araminta? says L 'You will be all tired out.' "Araminta looks over the girl's head and smiles, and shakes her bead at me that I must not interfere. So I didn't say anything more, though I wamted to. "'You don't know, you don't know,' says the girl, sort of moaning it was dreadful painful 'how terri ble it has all been. I've watched and watched for hint to come, and I wondered and wondered If ha was going with any other girl, and I couldn't find out; I didn't know anybody from here besides Daniel. Once I walked 'way over here one moonlight evening. Father and Aunt Clara thought I had gone to meet ing. I went to the house where he lives. I hid be hind the hedge till he came out, and then I crept out, and was going to follow him. but I was so afraid he would turn round and see me, that I didn't dare. I went back behind the hedge till he was gone. Then I went home. I tan 'most all the way. I was afraid.' "'It is five miles to Bondville,' saya Araminta, In the kindest voice. . " 'Yes,' says the girl. 1 walked ten miles that night Then I cried till morning. I didn't sleep any. Father and Aunt .Clara say they don't see why I have grown so thin.' She was thin, sura enough, poor child. Her little hands were like claws. , "'You walked 'way over here today? says Ara- m,I,"tTfes, says the girl, 'but I don't know why I did. Then she cries out, real hysterical: 'Oh, why did I come? Why did I come? How shall I ever get homer "'I am going to take you home,' says Araminta. The stage goes over at 11 o'clock, and I will go wltb you.( Nobody need know. I shall not get out of the"'On'wlll your says the girl, and she clung to her tighter than ever. She was a queer kind of a creature.. I don't believe many girls would have taken it the way she .did 'Then Araminta spoke real firm. Now,' saya aha, 1 want you to sit down here in the chair beside the stove. And I am going to make a good, hot cup of tea and cook you an' egg and make you some toast, Have you -eaten any breakfast? '"No, I haven't says the girl. T couldn't, Aunt Clara wanted to know why, but I wouldn't tell her. I guess she suspected.' - ' . "Well, she did just as Araminta told her to. She sat down by the atove, and Araminta got a good, hot breakfast for her, and she ate it. too. She waa Just , about worn Out. I made her take off her soaking wet shoes and stockings, and got some slippers of Araminta' for her while they dried. It was nearly an hour ' before the stage : went. v "Well, I, never knew how Araminta managed it or Just what she said, but she got the girt all quieted down, and she went off with her real oalm. . "Araminta was , gone, about an hour and a half. Ehe just went over in, the aUge and . turned round and came back again. I don't think anybody ever knew anything about it She said there weren't any other passengers over to Bondville that morning. There were two coming back. "When Araminta came into the room I couldn't bear to look at her at first I could hear her moving about taking off her things. 'Dinner is all ready when you are.' says I, I didn't look at her when'l aid H. I had been getting dinner when she was gone. "But she epoke Just as natural. 'I'm all ready now,' says she. 'and I am hungry, too. I smelled the beefsteak the minute I came Into the yard.' "Then I looked at her and ahe was Just as usual. I didn't know what to say. We went out in the other room, and I took the beefsteak out of the oven, and she took up the potatoes. "'Well, what are you going to dor says I whea she sat down, and I could hear my voice shake. "'I am going to make a Christmas present,' says Araminta. and she laughed Just as pleasant ,f 1 IT its true trovr "To that glrir saya I. "Ye. saya ahe. "What? says J. " 'A man and a fan.' says Araminta, and then she laughed again. "She didn't V said the cousin. "Yea, she did." replied Sarah, "in spite of all I could say; and I did say a good deal when It came right down to It. There I was not married, and well, I've always thought it was the right way for a woman to be married, if she could, and I wanted her to be happy. But she wouldn't listen to anything I said. She Just laughed, and said she was bound to be happy anyway. She would always have a good deal to be thankful for and she knew she would be happy. I told ber maybe she'd never have another chance, and she said if she did she'd never take it; but she never did have one." "Weil, marriage ain't everything." said the cousin. "No," said Sarah, "it isn't so much as giving it up and behaving yourself, if the Lord show he hasn't planned to have you married." "That's what Araminta did?" "Yes, that's what Araminta did." "But," said the cousin, "I don't see how she man aged to give away Daniel and the fan to the other girl." "That was easy enough," said Sarah. "She did up the fan and sent It to Grace Ormsby. She didn't send any card or anything; she knew the girl would Jump at thinking he had sent it. Then she sends a note to Daniel, saying sne won-t be borne Christmas, and oft she goes and spends Christmas with her cousin Alice in Fayettevllle. She'd told Grace to send blm a little note, asking him to call on her Christmas evening, and ha went Araminta thought she could count on it. She reasoned it out that be would be real huffy because she bad gone off without a word to htm, and When be heard from Grace he would be glad enough to go, and when he saw her the old feeling would come over him again that is, if it had ever been worth anything; and he was right And I suppose when he saw Grace Ormsby with the fan he had sent tp Araminta he gave Araminta up on the, jpot. "I wonder tf Grace Ormsby ever knew about the fanr ald the cousin. "I rather guess not, said Sarah. "Sometimes Ara minta has felt kind of uneasy about her course with the fan, as. if maybe she was sort of underhanded; but it turned out all right and she really felt as If the other girl was the ona to have It. Anyway, it settled him as far as Araminta was concerned. Pretty oon we heard he was going with Grace Ormsby; then pretty soon they got married and went away to live, f hear she has made him a very good wife. Once Araminta said to me that unless she had been quite sure that she would, she should have hesitated more than ahe did. She said it seemed to her that Grace Ormsby would make him very happy." "I think Araminta seems happy enough herself without him." eald the cousin. - . "Ye, I guess she did Just a well to let him go, replied fiarah. "He was a smart man, but she's Just as well off in a good many ways. Here she 1 now." Then Araminta entered and again stood in the door way with her basket empty of presents. "Look at her," said her sister, with a sort of tender pride. "Don't she look happy, Marthaf - r "I never saw anybody take so much tsomfort In 1 giving Christmas presents in all my life," said, the cousin. ; ' Araminta laughed. "Sometimes (t seems to me as If I was emptying all the baskets into my own heart and didn't really give anything," said she. . 7
