Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 October 1884 — BARBAR'S BURGLAR. [ARTICLE]

BARBAR'S BURGLAR.

BY M. C. FARLEY.

The day was oppressively warm. The aun shone down on the. little vinecovered villa with such a scorching glare that even the great red roses on the lattice drooped and hung their heads with fatigue. Bees droned lazily among the honey-suckle cups, and Dick, the pet canary, had long since ceased trilling his shrill notes, and with panting breath and distended wings sought the shadiest corner of his gilded cage. Overcome by the stillness and the extreme heat, old Miss Pennyfeather sat out on the back piazza tinder cover of the vines, the rutiles of her muslin cap hanging limply about her face, and her ' two mittened hands hanging idly in her lap, fast asleep. Barbara, her pretty niece, was shelling peas on the door-step. As a prolonged and startling snore betrayed the old lady’s somnolent condition? Barbara picked up a handful of pea-pods and, taking deliberate aim at her aunt’s ■open mouth, threw them with such skill that Miss Pennyfeather suddenly bounced from her sea : , and being very near the edge of the piazza, lost her ballance and went rolling down the steps upon the green sward. This being rather more than Miss Barbara had bargained for, she hastened to Aunt Penuyfeather’s assistance. “Oh, Aunt Pennyfeather,” cried Barbara, penitently, “do forgive me. I had no idea that you would attempt to get up.” “Go away, you bad "Bab,” retorted"the spinster, testily. What with your perverseness and your practical jokes you’ll be the death of me yet. Get away with you, 1 *say. I can help hiyself and no thanks to y6u. ”> “If madam will allow - mb,”i said a deep and solemn voice behind them, “I shall be only too glad tb'render my assistance.” Bab "1 need up, .. ,4. tall and elegant stranger stood holding his hat in ■ Jlis kidded hands. < /Thank you,” said Aunt Pennyl'eath- - «r,rii3bHy, ‘‘yon mnw givem* your arm if you’jZen.sc. My niece here has no respect for age ,and T I 7 hm not nnfre- . quently the victinTdPhdr pranks.” The stranger helped Aunt Pennyleather to rise and conducted, her to the sitfiing-room door. *. . ‘ In % minute more Aunt Pen had invited him in, an<Lcapped,.it,all by. ask;., ing him to stop with her'for tea. ’ /I am expecting my Uepjiew. Jack Dean, to-day, ” she w ent on, “ana if you are intending to remain in this locality for. any length of time, I will be . glad to do what I can to make your stay as pleasant as possible,' in return for your Kindness Iff tae.” The gen tlemairpulled a card from his pocket and presented it to. Aunt Pennyfeather.

“I am only a theological student out on a little vacation,” said he, in his •■deeply solemn voice, “and at' present I am waiting for a few days at Judge JHqJeom’s, on the hill yonder.” , Aunt Pen waved her hand with a gratiAed smile. Judge Holcom’s family represented the very highest aristocracy of. the. countryside. To visit Judge Holcom’s was to have an entree to the very best society for miles around, and this was something even Aunt Pen* could appreciate. '“You haven’t yet accepted my tion to take tea with us, ” said. Miss Pennyfeather, bl mdly. “I have a jare old Dresden cup; only used on greahoccasions, that you shall drink your lea from if you stay.” •“Your inducements are irresistible, any dear madam,” replied the elegant ■stranger, putting his glossy silk hat •down on the little table. “Do you 2know, if I have a hobby at all, that hobby is for fine china and bric-a-brac generally.

Miss Pennyfeather sighed. “How I wish my nephew had a taste for such things, ” said she, plaintively; •“but he hasn’t. He is a good-natured, ftuurum-scarum sort of a fellow, but ■without any liking whatever for the fine arts. And Barbara is just like him. I don’t believe Jack could tell a Sevres dish from one of common delf—♦hough on some things, such as horses and dogs, fishing lines and guns, I think he is quoted as an authority.” “You’re awfully hard on poor Jack, auntv,” said Bab, suddenly from the porch, where she was shelling the peas. “Don’t you remember how he swam ♦he river and saved four lives last sum'■Ber, when they would surely have been lost but for him?” Aunt Pen looked at the strange genAnmsn as much as to say, “This is all I 4MB expoeL” In return she received a

glance full of commiseration and-sym-pathy from that elegant individual, who had, by. this' time, seated hhfiself comfortably in a big easy chair, and was apparently very much at home. “There is no accounting for tastes, my dear madam,” said St. John, for this wss the name inscribed on the pasteboard he had given Aunt Pennyfeather. “Indeed, I have, a brother who is only in his natural element when engaged in out-of-door sports.” “Shall we have chicken for supper?” asked Barbara, irrelevantly. “To be sure,” returned Aunt Pen, “and as the weather is so very warm we will have the table set in the arbor.” “You have some elegant old silver,” said St. John, presently, inspecting with a critical air an old tankard that stood on the sideboard. This tankard was Aunt Pen’s particular favorite. It was an heirloom, and had been brought to America fully two hundred years before by Aunt Pen’s ancestors. And there was still a lingering tradition that th'S old tankard had been given to a brave soldier of her house by no less a personage than the great Charlcmagnq himself. Any way she prized it above alt her othrt:’ earthly possessions. She lifted it up revereirtjy and showed its battered sides. “Being ipade of pure silver it is Very heavy and very valuable on that account. However; to me it is worth more than.twiqe its weight in gold, as a genuine antique and a family heirloom.” St. John looked at the tankyd with glistening eyes. . - ?

“I had no idea, madam, when I.stopped in my desultory walk, this afternoon to beg of you a few of those exquisite roses hanging over the piazza there, that I should be so fortunate as to see so priceless and rare a specimen as this,” said he, with unfeigned enthusiasm. “Have you anything else in your collection that will at all compare with it?” Miss Pennyfeather had other valuable articles of vertu. Here was a man who had a cultivated taste, who not only admired bric-a-brac but who appreciated it as much as she did herself. She hastened to throw open her treasure house. “I call this my cabinet of curiosities,” she said, going to a deep recess in the wall, before which hung a heavily embroidered portiere. The curtain swung back on the gilded pole, disclosing a. bronze door in lattice work, behind which was ranged such a display of rare old china, and glass and silver, that St. John could not repress an exclamation of delighted surprise. “This is a dress that came over in the Mayflower, and belonged to Mary Alden,” she said, showing a garment of creamy cloth, yellow with age, that hung in a narrow glass show-case. “This,” picking up a golden circlet of peculiar shape, “is a ring brought, from Germany more than two centuries ago. Notice the peculiar text inscribed upon its face. Among all. the collections I have seen in America. I have found none like it. Those cups and saucers there on that shelf are froA Japan. Think of drinking tea with the Japs in such frail little things;Jis ’them • dtßSoh mr rm, Hqry below are of Wcdgb- 1 wood wares This Htife morsel of A Cup, * that looks as, if covered with fish-scales, Is one of a set from which Washington drank chocolate after he, becanjq President. The stone, lying there it your left hand is from hw tomb at Mount Vernon. Here is a" tete-a-tete set of Irish, china sept me forty years ago from KQmsrnOck Castle. Odd, is it not ? And the bronze clock- ” At this momqnt Barbara put her head in at the sitting-room door. “Tea is ready, Aunt.Pennyfatherj” said she, “so come out ut once. The chicken is done to a turn, and must not be kept waiting, and besides—Jack’s come.” t Mr., Bi. John stared adwiferingly at the pretty Barbara, who calmly looked ' him over, without any visible sign of pmbarrassjppnt. " . “Rather' pretty girl,” muttered St. John, just tent) enough for her to hear. “But without a particle of taste for art,” said she, saucily. “I am persuaded I could shoot off a gun or cook a dinner—or Sock up a burglar for that matter; and doit all in goodfchape, too. But uesthetic longings,.andr stagy attitudes, and .bric-a-brac are beyond nry .understanding and desires.”

•“Then. , you really don’t care for old thih^s?”laughed St.,, John. “Your are too syeepjhg,” paid Bab, carelessly, ’ “unless you confine your meaning 1 to inanimate things, In that case my answer is easy, enough.’ But h jqu mean to include 'Aunt Peri here in your category of aged articles, why, then I can assure you that there a few antiquated specimens that T am fond of, and with that Bab bounced up from her chair—they were at tea now—and marching around the table suddenly dropped a respectful Jttea bathe bald ♦pot on the top of Auut Panls.be ad. .

“Did I ever I” ejeeulated ized spinster. g# “I really don’t think^ou Mid?’ retorted the unconscionable Bab, sitting down again; “and: vlmt’s more, I don’t believe you ever wilK” “Iteally, Mr. St. Barbara isn’t always like this,” began Miss Penryfeather, apologetically “No, indeed,” seretomj .added Barbara. “Mr. St; John/1 "Km commonly ifiuch worse than lam'do-day. You can believe me.” “I hope Miss Pem|jfeUsidr will give me permission to make, an elaborate study of her sprightly ‘niece during my stay in this neighborhood,” said Sti John, politely. “Miss Pennyfeather idcharmed,” said the terrible Barbara,.ip e.\act imitation of her aunt’s statelf manner. “ Where is Jadk, Aunt Pen, changing the subject. “He went down the for a swim, and he said not to look for "him until he came, for a party of gentlemen were intending to camp on the banks and he meant to stop night with them, and go fishing by torch light. ” Directly after*tea St. John took his departure, with an explicit understanding that he was to call again next day and make some drawings of the old silver tankard for his own use. Aunt Pennyfeather was completely

infatuated with her visitor. Such eyes, such charming manners, such an elegant figure, and above all such an appreciative taste, were all alike remarkable, and not often met with in that section of the country. “And he seemed to be quite taken with you, Barbara,” said the spinster, as she held up her night lamp and scanned her willful njece; “and if he should—if he should actually propose to me for you—l should not say no!” “Of course not, Aunt Pen; of course not. Say yes, by all means, and I'll put him up to smash all your pottery to pay you for such a mean trick. See if I don’t" • ♦ • * *

| It was 12 o’clock—midnight. The ■ moon had long since gone down and ’ the night was dark. Only a few pale stars shone between the block' clouds that were rolling up across the heavens. How still and close and hot it was. Barbara turned uneasily in bed and longed for day to break. “If I were at all superstitious,” she thought, carelessly, “I should fancy something awful was going to happen. Perhaps it’s Jack. I SI queerljS-as though I ought to be ■and* doing something, and I can’t. r p. Eiosjc time I fall info a dose I dream qf Aunt Pen’s old silver tankaid. It sgems'tb me—” she rubbed her eyes And looked again. Yes it Was there a thread of light moving slowly pmst. her parti® open door. For a moment her heart stood stilh Then she rose noiselessly and stepped barefoot into the hall. Far down at the sitting room door the, threads of light went, passed in, and was gone. “I| must be Jack,” thought Bob, softly descending the cdtpeted steps. “I wotideY what on earth he can be doing at this time of night in the sittijigroom. Aunt Pen will give him a good one in the morning for prowling about the house of nights. ” She went along softly and peered into the room.

“Goodness mercy me!” ejaculated Bab, recoiling with horror from what she saw there. It seemed hard to beJieve |he evidence of her own eyes. But if was no myth, no vagary of a diseased imagination. Right there, between herself and the bronze door that guarded Aunt Pennyfeather’s bric-a-brac,rose the tali, dark figure of a man, and that man was decidedly not her brother. A big basket packed with the family silver, which Bab instinctively recognized even then, was on the floor beside him, and Bab watched with a fascinated gaze as he coolly wrapped up the priceless old tankard and added it to the collection. This done, he produced a key, and, fitting it in the bronze door, unlocked it, and, taking a bag, hastily began packing it with the articles found in the recess. Even “the drees that came over in the Mayflower ” was stuffed sacrilegiously in that big dark bag. As Barbara watched the proceedings of the stranger, a feeling of resentment began to burn in her bosom. The relics she had* never prized, now that they were about to ;take wings and fly away-, began to take on ah immense pecuhiorv value. Sh'e to protect them, and why shouldn't she? -.i . ' j ,• Barbara forgot wap banjipct and was the sßver , tankard andAiar/AF den’s dress, the “Mayflower ’rag;” as she was to profanely call it —they must be saved if everything .else went. The man had now entered the reoess and, with his back to the door, was rapidly and carefully rolling the-china cups in bitsW elothand storing them' in the bag. Tine key was still in the bjronze door. Like a flash Barbara flew across the room. She slammed the bronze door shut upon the burglar and turned the kay i» the lock with the rapidity of lightning. This done, true to her feminine instincts, she stood there and shrieked from sheer excitement. yrightenedaaamrly out of her wits as the screams penetrated to her room, Aunt Pen roMted out of bed,. rolled down stairs, and rolled finally into the dead than alive. “What on. earth, Barbara, is.the matter with yon?” gasped Aunt Pten. . “Burglars.!” shrieked in hershrillest key..

“Let M-oii of this, or Til be ths death of you,” roared a deep bass voiee from among the debris of Aunt Pen’s bric-a-brac. “He stele the tankard/* screamed Barbara, hysterically, anM*|h£ flower rag, and the Sevres cup, and all the spoons and forks and things.” “What an awful row/ dried a,new voice from the hallway.

“It’s Jack,” sobbed Miss Pennyfeather. “O, Jack, here’s a live burglar, and lie’s burgled all the family silver and all my relics too.” “It’s St. John,” screamed Barbara. “It can’t be!” ejaculated Aunt Pen, raising her hands in horror. “It can’t be St. John. St. John is a very nice t young man.” “Very nice young man be blowed/’ said Jack, jerking open the door, and- collaring the prisoner. “This fellow is the noted pickpocket Wilkins. Hasn’t • been out of Sing Sing more than six weeks, to my certain knowledge. How on earth did you' 1 make his acquaintance, Aunt Pen?”

“It all came about through the tankard and the bric-a-brac. Aunt Pbh would ask him to stay to tea, and then the rest was easy,” said Barbara. “Elderly njaiden ladies are so very susceptible,” added St. John, with arlittle sneer, as Jack proceeded sois his hands and feet securely. “That may be,” retorted Jack. “But. I notice that young maiden ladies adffi ‘a little too much for you, eh” “Ya-as. Missßab there, particularly. She boasted to me that she could catcm; a burglar, and I guess she can.” •- “As for me,” said Aunt Pep, remorsefully, as the biflcers carried off Mr. St. John in the morning, “I’ll W careful in future how’l invite young men to inspect my silver tankard and tempt them to steal my bric-a-brac. ” A shrewd old lady cautioned her married daughter against worrying her husband too much, and concluded by saying: “My child, a man is like an egg. Kept in hot water a little while, he may boil soft; but keep him there too long and he hardens.”