Democratic Sentinel, Volume 6, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 June 1882 — KATHIE’S WEDDING DOWRY. [ARTICLE]

KATHIE’S WEDDING DOWRY.

“Only one silk and that not new I Dear me, dear me, it is dreadful 1” and Mrs. Grayson caught up the pretty bodice of the garment in question, and gave it a spiteful little shake. Kathie, hemming ruffles by the window, laughed. “What can’t be cured must be endured ; there’s no help for it, auntie,” she said. “ Yes, there was help for it,” cried the lady, tossing the bodice from her, “if you had taken my advice; but you must go and act like a simpleton ! The idea of a girl of your age giving away her hard earnings, and then getting married without a decent change of clothing ! 1 declare it is too absurd. And you are making such a good match, too! Charles Montague comes of one of the very best families in tne country, and he will be rich oue of these days.” “At which time, let us hope, my scanty wardrobe will be replenished,” said Kathie, merrily. Her aunt frowned contemptuously. “But what are you to do now?” she went on. “What do you think Mrs. Montague, of Oaklands, will think of you, when she sees your outfit ?” “ Not one whit less than she thinks of me to-day,” answered Kathie, stoutly. Mrs. Grayson laughed in scorn. “ You poor little simpleton! Wait until you know the world as I know it, and you’ll change your tune. I tell you, Kathie, appearance is everything. Your bridegroom himself will feel ashamed of you when he sees you in the midst of his stately sisters, in the grand rooms of Oaklands.” Kathie winced, but she answered bravely: “I don't believe Charlie will"ever feel ashamed of me.” * ‘ Wait until he sees you in your shabby garments. ”

“Shabby garments,” said. Kathie, opening her bright brown eyes. “My garments are not shabby, auntie. lam quite sure I never looked shabby in my whole life.” Mrs. Grayson glanced at the trim, graceful little figure. The close-fitting blue merino was faultless; the linen cuff's and collars were spotless as snow. Kathie was right; she never looked shabby. Her garments seemed to be part and parcel of herself, like the glossy feathers and black tuft of a canary. Yet these same garments were usually made of all sorts of odds and ends, for Kathie was poor, and obliged to be rigidly economical. But she was possessed of that tact, or talent, or whatever it may be called, which is more to woman than beauty or fortune ; which enables her, by the mere skill of her willing fingers and artist soul, to make life, her home, her own person, “a thing of beauty and joy forever.” Mrs. Grayson, Kathie’s well-to-do aunt, with daughters of her own, who trailed their silks in the dust and tumbled their laces and plumes and looked dowdy all the while, regarded the trim little figure by the window with a half-admiring, half-contemptuous smile. “ You’re rather a pretty girl, Kathie, and you understand the art of getting yourself up in good style. What you’ve ?fot will do well enough, but there’s so ittle of it. Your bridal outfit is shameful, upon my word. What will you do for carriage dresses, and dinner dresses, and evening dresses, when you are Charles Montague’s wife? Why, when I was a bride I had everything ; a round dozen of silks of every hue, poplins, merinos, tissues and half a dozen sorts of wraps. I didn’t go to James Grayson bare of clothes, I tell you. ” Kathie said nothing. She bent over her ruffles, her bright eyes dim with tears. “ Such a simpleton as you’ve been,” her aunt continued, “after toiling and teaching for your money, to turn round and give it away ! I declare it puts me out of temper to think of it.” “ What else could I do ?” the girl burst out passionately. “Could I see poor George’s cottage sold over his head and he and his wife and children turned out into the street?”

“Assuredly,” answered the lady, cool—ly A “he could have rented a house easy enough. In your place, I should have kept my money in my pocket; bnt you wouldn’t listen to my advice. You are sorry for it now, no doubt. ” “I am not sorry for it. I would do the same thing to-morrow. I’m glad I had the money to pay poor George’s debt, and I don’t care if I do look shabby. ” “Very well, I shall try not to care, either. I shan’t help you ; I told you that from the beginning; I.can’t afford it, and even if I could I should not feel it my duty. You would be headstrong and senseless, you must bear the consequences. I’ll give you some lace for your neck and sleeves, and you may wear the garnet set of Josephine’s. “I don’t want the lace, I’ve some that belongs to mamma ; and I wouldn’t wear Josephine’s garments for anything.” “ Oh! very well, don’t snap my head off; I beg; you needn’t wear them. Much thanks one gets for flying to assist you. You won’t wear my hat, either, I suppose ; how about that?” “ 1 have plenty of trimmings ; I shall trim that light felt I wore last winter.” “ And your jacket ? Where’s that to come from, pray ?” Kathie’s tears were gone, her brown eyes Hashed like stars. “ I intend to make myself a jacket of grandfather’s old coat,” she replied. Her aunt threw back her head and laughed heartily. “Grandfather’s old coat! oh, that is too good! What would Mrs. Montague, of Oaklands, say to that ? Kathie, child, what a goose you are! ” Kathie threw aside her ruffles, and, Soing to the clothes press, brought out ie old coat.

“ The material is very fin§,” she said, “and this rich, old-fashioned fur will cut into nice strips for trimming; I can make a handsome jacket out of it, and I think,” she added, softly, “grandEpa would like me to have it, if he ew.” “Grandpapa, indeed!” echoed Mrs. Grayson. “ I should think you’d have but little respect for his memory after the manner he treated you; never leaving you a penny after you nursed him and slaved for him as you did.” “I think, he intended to leave me something,” said Kathie. “I Know he did, but he died so suddenly, and there was some mistake.” “ Oh, nonsense! I wouldn’t give a fig for good intentions ! He had lots of money—everybody knows that; it has all gone to that scapegrace Dugald, and you haven’t a shilling now for your wedding dowry.” “Charlie won’t mind that,” said Kathie, her cheeks blooming like a rose. “ Won’t he ? Don’t tell me, child ! Every one thought you would be old Tom Rowland’s heiress when you first met him. Ten to one he’d never have given you a second thought but for that. Now that he’s disappointed he’s too much of a man to back out, of course, but he feels it all the same. Don’t tell „ 9f me.

Kathie uttered no word in answer. She took the old coat, and, crossing to the window, sat down to rip it apart. Her wedding day was drawing near, there was time to lose. Mrs. Grayson settled herself on the lounge, for her afternoon nap; the big Maltese cat purred on the rug, the canary chirped lazily in the cage, and without, above the waving line of the wooded ridge, the December sunset glowed. Kathi ■ began to rip the loosely stitched seams, her pretty, fresh face looking sad and downcast. Aunt Grayson’s world-wise talk had put her out of heart. All her hfe she had been such a brave, sweet little soul. Left an orphan early, she had lived with her grandfather, and made his last days bright. “You’re a dear child, Kathie; by-and-by, when you think of being a bride, I’ll give you a wedding dowry.” He had said so a dozen times, yet, after his sudden death one midwinter night, there was no mention of Kathie found in the will, and so everything went to Dugald, the son of a second marriage. Kathie did not complain, but it cut her to the heart to think that grandpa had forgotten her. She tried not to believe it; there was some mistake. And when Dugald sold out the old homestead and went off to America she gathered up all the souvenirs and took care of them. The old fur-trimmed overcoat was one.

Then, lodging at her aunt’s, she taught the village children, and saved up her earnings for her marriage day. for Charles Montague loved her, and had asked her to be his wife. The wedding day was appointed and Kathie was beginning with a fluttering heart to think about making her purchases, when her brother George fell ill; and, worse, fell in trouble. He was rather a thriftless man and had been unfortunate; his little home was mortgaged, and unless the debt could be repaid the house would be sold over his head. Kathie heard, and did not hesitate an instant. Her hard earnings went to pay the debt. She did not regret her generosity sitting there in the glow of the waning sunset; she would have done the same thing again. She did not doubt her handsome high-born lover’s truth, yet her girl’s heart ached, and tears dimmed her clear, bright eyes. It was bad to be cramped for a little money, and one’s wedding dky so near. Her wardrobe was limited. She needed a nice seal brown ..cashmere dreadfully, and a light silk or two for evening wear. Aunt Grayson told the truth ; she would look shabby in the grand rooms at Oaklands, in the midst of Charlie’s stately sisters.

The tears came faster, and presently the little pearl-handled knife, with which she was ripping the seams, slipped suddenly, and cut a great gash right across the breast of the coat. Kathie gave a shriek of dismay. “ There, now, I’ve spoiled the best of the cloth, I can’t get my jacket out; what shall I do ?” Down went the bright, young head, and, with her face buried in grandpa’s old coat, Kathie cried as if her heart would break. Mrs. Grayson snored on the lounge, the Maltese cat purred before the hearth, the canary twittered, and out above the wintry hills the sunset fires burned. Her cry out, Kathie raised her head, dried her eyes and went on with her ripping. Something rustled under her hands. “ Why, what’s this ? Some of grandpa’s papers !” She tore the lining loose, and there, beneath the wadding, was a package done up in parchment and tied with red tape. Kathie drew it forth. One side was marked : “ This package belongs to my granddaughter, Kathie.” “ Why, what can it be ?” cried Kathie, her- fingers fluttering as she tugged at the tape. At last the .knot yielded, and she unfolded the package. Folded coupon bonds—a round dozen at least—and a thick layer of crisp b«nk notes. On the top a little note. She read it.

“My dear little granddaughter, here is your marriage dowry. Two thousand pounds. One day some fine fellow will claim you for his wife. You are a treasure in yourself, but take this from old grandpapa. ” “ Oh, grandpapa, you did not forget me !” sobbed Kathie. A ring at the door startled her. She looked out and saw her lover. Gathering her treasures into the lap of her ruffled apron, she rushed out to meet him. “Oh, Charlie, come in quick; I’vo some wonderful news to toll you !” The young man followed her into the drawing room, wondering what had happened. “ Oh, Charlie ! she cried, breathlessly, holding up her apron, her eyes shining, her cheeks aglow, “ you see, lam rich 1 I’ve found my marriage dowry. A minute ago I was crying because I was so poor. I had to give George all my money, and I’ve only one silk, and I hod to trim my old hat over, and auntie laughed at me so, and said you would feel ashamed of me. I was cutting up grandpapa’s old overcoat to make a jacket, and I found this; only see, £2,000! Oh, Charlie I I’m so glad for your sake.” The young man bent down and kissejJ the sweet, tremulous mouth. “My darling,” he said, his voice thrilling with tenderness, “ I an gladof all this because you are glad. For my own part I would rather have taken this darling little hand without a shilling in it. You need no dowry, Kathie; you are crowned with beauty and purity and goodness. In my eyes you are always fresh and fair and lovely, no matter what you wear. I love you for your own sweet self, my darling.” Kathie let the folded coupons and bank notes slip from her apron and fall to the floor in a rustling shower. “Oh, Charlie ! ” she whispered, leaning her head against his shoulder,’ “ I am so glad ! ” “Gladof what, Kathie—grandpapa’s dowry ? ” “No, glad you love me for myself.” He clasped her closely, and at their feet grandpapa’s marriage dowry lay unheeded. ’

The city of Aurora, 111., is lighted by the electric tower plan. The system consists of six electrical towers made of iron rods and network, each 150 feet high. They are'crowned with electric lamps of 2,000-candle power each, or equal to 125 gas jets.