Democratic Sentinel, Volume 7, Number 11, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 April 1883 — THE THREE GRANDMOTHERS. [ARTICLE]

THE THREE GRANDMOTHERS.

“And you would marry this fellow, ” said Grandma Von Breeks von Starch, in her bassooniest (that is the only Word I can think of with which to describe them) tones, “if you could ?” “Yes, ma’am,” replied Gertrude, meekly but firmly. “The idea is simply preposterous! ” declared Grandmother Huffey’s fife-like voice. “Preposterous indeed! ” responded the bassoon. “More than preposterous —disgraceful! a mechanic I a common workingman! a house painter!” “He’s a fresco-painter,” timidly corrected Gertrude. “Which ainounts to the same thing,” groaned the bassoon. “Michael Angelo—” began Gertrude. “Heaven preserve usl” shrilled the fife; “she’s bringing some Irishman into discussion now! Be silent, miss. We’ll not hear another word from you. And understand distinctly, once and for all, that if that person calls here to-mor-row, which no doubt he will have the impertinence and assurance to do, you are to dismiss him instantly, or we will."

“And endeavor to begin the new year” —the bassoon took up the strain again —“in a manner befitting a descendant of the illustrious Gen. Yon Breeks yon Starch, whose unexampled bravery made him and Bergen-op-Zoom—the city of his birth—famous not only throughout Holland but the entire world, at a time when you were not dreamed of.”

Aa for Great-gran Peeky, she sat Boftly rocking to and fro in her cushioned roCker, munching her caraway biscuits—a store of which she always earned in a little sachel suspended at ber side—sleepily regarding the group of talkers, and saying not a word herself. But that was nothing strange for ber. She scarcely ever spoke save in monosyllables, and never even in them when Madame Yon Breeks von Starch and Mistress Huffey were laying down the law (a favorite occupation of theirs, by-the-by) to servants, trades-peopie or granddaughter Gertrude. And the last thing that could' have occurred to either of the amiable lawmakers would have been the idea of appealing to the old tady for an opinion on any subject whatever. It sufficed them that she paid without grumbling the greater part of the expenses of the household out of the income which was to cease at her death, and yet allowed them to manage all things pertaining to it in their own way. Gertrude—so named by Madame Von Creeks von Staroh in honor of the E>atron saint of Bergen-op-Zoom—had ost both her parents in her infancy, and, her fatheiVhaving been reduced to poverty some tune before he died by various gentlemanly vices, she had been left wholly dependent upon her three grandmothers. v Of these Great-gran Peeky was the mother of Grandmother Huffey, who, in turn, was the mother of Gertrude** mother, while Grandma Von Breeks von Starch held the same close relationship to her father. The bassoon grandmother was at the . head of the American branch of her family (she had been a Von Breeks von Search herself, and had married a cousin of the same name) —a family of great i>rowess and many bags of gold in their ather-land some century and a half ago. She was taH, stout and solid, with a round face, big black eyes, abundant Iron-gray hair, and a carriage that immediately suggested to the beholder the last syllable of her aristocratic name. The fife grandmother, five years her junior, was directly her opposite, being short, slim and limber, with a sharpcut face, extremely thin fair hair, and faded blue eyes. Great-gran Peeky, notwithstanding her 83 years, was by far the best-look-ing of the three (though she did look I must confess, when munching her caraway biscuits, somewhat like a very nice meditative old rabbit). Her snowy jvhite tresses waved prettily above her still dark eyebrows, beneath which beamed with a mild, dreamy light her soft brown eyes, and a pleasant winter bloom lingered on her wrinkled face. It was from her Gertrude had received all the picture books and sugar plums, almost always bestowed in perfect silence, that had brightened and Bweetened her childhood, Grandma Von Breeks von Starch supplying the lessons in deportment, and Grandmother Huffey (let me whisper it) the punishments, usually inflicted with a slipper or the back of a hair-brush. But. m spite of the lectures and lessons and other disagreeable things, Gertrude led a tolerably happy life with her three grandmothers until her eighteenth birthday. From that day dated such strict surveillance, so much sarcasm, so many scoldings, that even the hair-brush-and-slipper period seemed bv comparison a regrettable one. And all on account of the young man who came to fresco the parlor ceilings. A handsome young man he was, possessing the highly euphonious name of Everdell Tremlett. But neither his good looks nor his romantic name availed him aught with the two managing grandmothers, who saw in him only one of the working-day race, •with which the Huffeys and the Von Breeks von Starches had nothing in common. And therefore, with no more thought about the matter than if John the manservant had been therein his stead, they allowed their granddaughter to practice her music lessons in the back parlor—-

the sliding door being partly open—while he was at work m the frbnt. And so it happened that Gertrude, trying to play an air from memory, and finding it continually eluded her, was about giving it up in vexation, when some one softly whistled it behind her; and, turning quickly on the revolving stool, she saw the young painter, brush in hand, standing in the doorway. “Beg pardon, but that is what you wanted, is it not?” he asked, as he ceased whistling, in a voice as deep as that of the bassoon grandmother, though much more melodious.

“Oh, yes, thank yon!” said Gertrude, with a blush; and, turning to the piano again, she played the whole air skill* fully and gracefully. “It’s a beautiful thing,” said the painter, still standing in the doorway; “but I think the song beginning in this way”—and he*prepared to whistle again, when he encountered the frozen frown of Madam Yon Breeks von Starch, as she stepped into the room from the balcony, and fled. And the next day the piano was closed and locked, and the fair performer a prisoner in her own room; and Grandmother Huffey, meeting Hr. Everdell Tremlett as he came to work, requested him in one brief sentence to “get through his work and go about his business as soon as possible ” But Love bless his merry little heart!— laughs at locks and locksmiths, and the very next time Gertrude went for her singing lesson to tfhe Conservatory (to and from the door of which she was always escorted by either Madame Von Breeks von Starch or Mistress Huffey) Bhe found there a new pupil with a magnificent bass voice, and that new pupil was the fair-haired, blueeyed young fresco-painter. Jfot one word of this meeting, nor of the meetings that followed it two or three times a week for six months thereafter, did the naughty girl breathe to either of the three grandmothers, and the two younger of the trio exulted greatly over the strict vigilance with which they guarded the future bride (according to their long-laid plans) of Diedrich von Breeks, the rich Holland merchant, due in New York with the new year. But their exultation came to an end on New Year’s eve. On that evening the Conservatory of Music gave a concert, and the very first duet was sung by Miss Gertrude Yon Breeks and Mr. Everdell Tremlett. In vain had the latter begged to be lelt out of the programme; in vain had he summoned to his aid a mysterious throat disease. His professor declared that sing he must, or lose his place in the Conservatory, and, what was still worse, prove himself an “ingra-a-te!” And so the three grandmothers, sitting in great state near the stage, were horrified—that is, two of them were (great-gran munched her caraways as placidly as ever) —by seeing and hearing their granddaughter made operatic love to, in a very real love-making way, before a most fashionable audience, by the young man who frescoed their parlors. In a moment the whole truth flashed upon their minds, and how they sat out the rest of concert, so great was their indignation, they never knew. But at last, much to to their relief, it came to an end, and the ominous silence with which they received the pretty culprit prepared her for the storm (the afterclaps of which I have recorded at • the beginning of my story) that burst upon her head as soon as they reached home. When it was over Gertrude was allowed to seek her room. Here she threw off her cloak, turned the key in .her door and took from her bosom a note, which she hastily rea’d. “My Deabest” (thus it ran) —“I suppose—in fact, I know—you will have a sceife with her Royal Highness Yon Breeks von Starch and her faithful henchwoman theDuoheese de Huffey. I am so sorry for you, dear! But don’t let them frighten you; and don’t be frightened at what I am about to propose. To-morrow will be New Year’s day! Consent, I entreat you, to begin the New Year with mu I have but a humble home to offer you, but in it waits tire blessedest of mothers and the best of grandmothers (who will make your fourth) to welcome you. I shall be waiting, when you read this note, with a carriage around the nearest corner. Our alto and tenor will be with me, ready te act as bridesmaid and groomsman. Your grandmothers would never consent to our marriage, and unless you take a decisive step they will marry you, in spite of yourself, to your Dutch fifth cousin. Come, my darling, comu Evebdell. “P. B.—ls you find it impossible to make your escape, why, then I must beard the lions in den to-morrow, and fight a (fuel with the Von Breeks von Stareh as Boon as he arrives in the county. ”

Gertrude stood an instant in thought. Then she glanced in tbe mirror. It reflected a bride-like figure. Dress of some clinging creamy white material, daisy-decked head, a cloud of lace clasped at the throat by a tiny gold cross. She smiled softly, reread her note, waited impatiently until half an hour had passed, and then unlocked der door, opened it, and listened. All was silent as the grave. Cautiously she ventured out into the entry, groped her way to tlje stairway, and began to descend the stair, pausing on every other step to make sure that no one was astir and watching her. At last she reached the street door in safety. It seemed an age to her until she had succeeded in unfastening the heavy chain across it—in reality it was just three minutes—and then she felt for the key. It was gone! Her heart sank withm her.

“Poor Everdell!” she said, and sadly prepared to retrace her steps—not daring to try the basement way, because the servants slept in that part of the house—when a faint light appeared above her head, and, looking up, she saw great-gran, carrying a lighted candle in her hand, ooming down the stairs as carefully as she had come down them herself. “She will call the others as soon as she is sure it is I,” she exclaimed, clasping her hands In an agony of fear. But great-gran came straight on, without a word, until she stood beside the frightened girl. “Here’s the key, my dear,” she said in a whisper, and with quite a girlish air. “ I’ve got a key that fits the General’s door, though she don’t know it, and I took this from under her pillow. Oh! if she’d caught me. But she sleeps like a soldier of the Revolution. And here’s a little gift for you ” —putting a small package in Gertrude’s hand. “ Law, child, how much you do look like me the night I ran away with Oliver Peeky! Your sweetheart’s a good boy; I know all about him. Good-night, and a happy New Year to you both! ” And exerting all his strength—Gertrude standing motionless in her great surprise—the old lady unlocked the door, and gently pushed the girl out into-the arms of her lover. And when the flight was discovered next morning, the anger thereat was nearly equaled by the wonder in regard to the manner of it. “ She never went by the front door, for the key was under my pillow,” thundered the bassoon. “ She couldn’t have opened one of the

parlor windows to have saved her life," squeaked the fife. “Only John and myself know the secret of the fasten** ings. And if she could have opened it* she certainly could not have fastened it behind her. Some of the servants must have helped her.” But the servants emphatically declared their entire innocence. “There’s no use asking'ma,” said Mistress Huffey, looking rather spitefully at4he old lady as she rocked in her favorite roeker and munched her favorite refreshment. “She never sees nor hears anything. Bnt, however the ungrateful minx got out, I’m glad she’s gone, and not a penny of my money does she ever see.” The great-gran's “little gift” proved to be a bonbon box filled with fresh caraway biscuits, In the midst of which lay a crisp sl,ooo' United States treasury note. But never did Everdell or his wife hear from or see her again, for very soon after their marriage she passed quietly out of life, and so will remain an enigma to them forever. And Madame Von Breeks von Starch and Mistress Huffey, having succeeded in marrying the merchant from Bergen-op-Zoom to a distant relative of the Yon Starch family—sought out and dowered for that purpose—departed with the bridal pair for that onee-renowned military town, and “the land of the free and the home of the brave” knew them no more. —Margaret Ey tinge, in Harper’s Weekly.