Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 4, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 January 1914 — OLD AUNT BEULAH [ARTICLE]

OLD AUNT BEULAH

..--‘S' Brav® Retreat Before Disaster That Had Ruined an Old Happy Home. By GEORGE H. BOWEN. Aunt Beulah thrust her head into the hoom and her round black face ■wrinkled with anxiety. "Miss Nancy honey—dey ain't a mite o’ meal left in de bin!*’ she announced uncertainly. Nancy lifted her tired eyes from the music she was languidly copying. Her gown was no whiter than her pale cheeks. If there had been even a flicker of color in the cheeks Nancy JBlair would have been beautiful. She was delicately fair with the fragility of convalescence after a long illness. “The meal?’’ she repeated vaguely. “Aunty Beulah, can't we have eggs~or something else for supper?” "Shore, honey, shore!” assured Aunt Beulah, dodging back into the dim obscurity of her little kitchen. She lighted a kerosene lamp with trembling fingers and carried it into the bleak pantry, holding it high above her head and closely scanned the shelves. There was a brave array of Grandmother Blairs white and gold china saved from the wreck of the old home, there were Aunt Beulah’s cooking utensils and the everyday china dishes. There was nothing else, for poverty was pressing • close upon Nancy Blair’s faltering feet. The tiny rooms under the mansard roof of the city house was the best refuge of these two. Nancy and the old servant, who had beaten a brave retreat before the disaster that had mined the old happy heme. “I can take care of you, Beulah,” .Nancy had said confidently, when

they had moved. But typhoid fever had laid her low, and now in the last days of a long convalescence she was beginning to question herself how it was that Aunt Beulah had found money for the doctor and the medicine, as well as for the food and rent; ■her own little store must have been swept aside long ago. She remembered on that last day, when she had fallen sick, she had pressed her purse into Beulah’s faithful hands. “I hope it will last until I can earn more,” she had gasped. "Meal —out of meal!” What did Beulah mean? When she had finished copying this music for Miss Peterman, the music teacher down on the first floor, she would have 75 cents. Seventy-five cents would buy more than meal —but there were several hours of work still to be done on it, and Nancy fell sound asleep with her head on the unfinished sheet. Aunt Beulah left the pantry and throwing a red shawl about her ample shoulders, went down the long flights of stairs to the street. She paused uncertainly for a moment and then went doggedly toward the little blue-painted grocery store where she had traded since Nancy had beensick. ——' “Well, Aunty, what can I do for you?” asked the sharp-eyed young grocer. “I wanter know if yo’ caint ’low me some scrubbin’ ter do —an’ low me ter tak’ it out in victuals,” said Aunt Beulah. A young man who had been studying Abe labels on shelves of tinned vegetables, turned swiftly, as the old ear. The grocer turned away carelessly. “Come in tomorrow, Aunty, and I’ll talk ta.yo» about it. I’m busy now.” Aunt Beulah folded her red shawl closer over her bosom as if to still the turbulent beating of her heart, and paddled heavily out of the shop. The young man who had been inspecting the tinned vegetables followed her swiftly.

At the touch of his hand on her arm, Aunt Beulah jumped. "Oh, man good Lawdy, whuftore yo’ scare me dat away?" she demanded indignantly, and then bending closer she looked into his face. Her cheeks turned gray, and she trembled like a leaf. “A sperrit!” she muttered. "Doan yo’ tech me. Mister Ghost—l ain’t a-doin’ no ha'm —deedy I ain’t!" “Shut up, Aunt Beulah!” snapped the man sharply. “You know perfectly well that I’m not a ghost. What are you doing here in Baltimore looking for work?” “Good lawdy, Massa Francis, dey said you was killed daid!” gasped Aunt Beulah. “Jes’ as we was leabin’ home dey says Massa Francis Day is done killed down dere whah dey’s buildin’ de canal, and Mlsb Nancy bein’ proud as Lucifer an’ sick most ob de time, dey wasn’t nobody ter find out de truf.’’ “And Nancy believes that I am dead?" demanded Francis Day incredulously. ' “Shore’s yore standin’ yere!” “Tell me all about it,” said Francis Bternly. Aunt Beulah sat down on the nearest doorstep and unfolded a tale of misfortune that wrung bitter pxetamations from the dark-eyed youth. When the. woman had concluded Francis took her work-hardened hand between his own strong palms. "And so you’ve been working out us a laundress, unknown to Nancy—and you've been paying the doctor and the druggist and the grocer—" “Yassab—yo’ see 1 couldn’t go out while Miss Nancy war sick and nobody wouldn’t bev wanted me no-ways ■wid de fever in de house—but deys got to be paid, sez J, an’ I tak e mah two ban’s an goes out. Miss Nancy fink* ’ keen traipsin' around lookin' tqter d© shop windows and sech fool-

ish carryln's on!” Aunt Beulah rock--ed back and forth chuckling mirth? fully. —■ : — t — ----- ■ "You are a noble woman. Aunt Beulah L(pe,” Francis Day said with deep feeling, “and when 1 say that you are a noble wonyin, Aunt Beulah, I am only repeating wfidt my mother would have said if she had been here and heard your story. Now, let me go to Nancy—’’ -•/

"I'm spang ’fraid ter go, Massa Frank. Dat chile is delikit and de surprise woyld kill her daid.” “Break it to her gently. First, take this and go to the store and get what you need. Then after Nancy has had her supper you tell her.and then meet me and let me know when I can see her. If all Is well—after that —why, please God, 111 take you both home with me!” , * ’'Oh, Massa -Frank —hack to de ole place?’ “Yes. My father is dead, you know, and I came home. I’ve been looking for Nancy. 1 heard she was in Baltimore, but I couldn't get a trace of her. I’ve been making a house-to-hottse inquiry—at least I’ve been to most of the shops, and asking for news of either one of you, and When you came into the grocery tonight I was waiting for an opportunity to ask the busy shopkeeper if he had any customers who- answered your description. Now, take this and I will wait for’ you here and help you tote your bundles.” ———V— ——- Aunt Beulah took the money and himbered away in the direction of the little grocery, and presently she returned with a large basket filled with packages. She Would not allow Francis to carry the basket “Whut would yore mah say ter see dat yo’ doan’t know yo’ place no better’n dat, Massa Frank?” she reproved him, as they went toward the big house. She left Francis Day at the foot of the steps while she panted up ta the little room under the roof. She hummed a camp meeting song as she moved around the kitchen, lighting lamp, stirring the fire to glowing heat and bringing the teakettle to a boll.

Presently she entered Nancy’s little room and placed a heavily laden tray on the table. Nancy was curled in a big chair fast asleep. A lamp was lighted and the scattered music sheets carefully removed. When Nancy opened her eyes they fell upon the shining black face of her servant and the meal spread before her. “Dear Aunt Beulah!” cried the girl, delightedly; “you are a witch or a good fairy I do believe —you said we were out of meal —and here you have placed before me a supper fit for a queen. Ummmm! Hew good that tea smells —and beefsteak! and honey! Aunt Beulah, have you eaten “I’Be gwine ter eat now, honey,” protested Aunt Beulah, for the smell of the viands had whetted her famished appetite “Jes’ as soon as I wait on yo—” “Bring a plate and a cup and sau.cer and sit right down there—yes, at the same table with me, Beulah Lee!” -ordered Naney sternly. “I know mighty well that you didn’t get this food with money I gave you! You’re my. friend, Beulah; sit down and eat —well, this once, anyway!” Aunt Beulah protestingly obeyed, sitting on the edge of her chair and drinking eagerly of the strong tea. “Miss Nancy, honey,” she mumbled, “yo’s Strong-willed and likely ter have yo’ own way—and yo’ doan’s know yo’ place—jes’ like Massa Frank lak two peas!” —— Nancy grew very pale and dropped her knife and fork. “Aunt Beulah,” she quavered. “What made you speak of Francis Day—?” “I was finkin’ erbout him,” muttered Beulah doggedly. “I was finkin’ if it come out dis-erway—dat Massa Frank wa’n’t daid, nohow —and he corned yere to see us and said his pah wuz daid an’ wouldn’t objec’ no moah to yo’ and Masse. Frank bein’ mah-ied and —honey, doan yo J look at me lak dat!”

Beulah sprang heavily around the table and supported Nancy in her stout arms. The girl’s white face fell against the strong shoulder, and her long dark lashes curled on her cheek. , “Such dreams don’t come true, Aunt Beulah!” she sobbed.

"Honey, it am come true!” said Aunt Beulah, gently. Half an" hour later Aunt Beulah went downstairs and brought a very impatient young man up to the little rooms under the roof. Nancy, her cheeks aglow with happiness, swayed uncertainly in the doorway, as they came in. Francis Day caught her in his arms and held her closely. Presently they looked up and saw Aunt Beuiah watching them, tears rolling down her dusky cheeks. “Glory hallelujah!” she triumphed as she went to her kitchen- *’,Dem chi Ileus neber will keep dey place!" (Copyright, 1913, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)