Rensselaer Republican, Volume 18, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 September 1885 — UNCLE JACK'S LEGACY. [ARTICLE]

UNCLE JACK'S LEGACY.

BY JENNIE S. JUDSON.

Uncle Jack was dead! Poor, dear Uncle Jack, so jolly, and so kiild, but who had always been a “rolling stone.” ’Twasno wonder that after years of wandering, wherein he had “gathered no moss,” but found ill-health instead, he should come back to the home of his only and well-loved sister to die. He had expressed a keen regret, as ~the end drew nfear, that he had nothing but a small collection of curiosities to leave to this sister and her children. “Oh, Sallie!” he said; “when I remember the gold and diamonds which have passed through these poor hands,” looking at his long, thin lingers, “and think of the good they might have done yon, widowed and poor, I grow almost desperate at tho thought. Oh, for a few more years of life, in which I might work for you and the children!” But they were iiot vouchsafed him, and he died next day, with the words, “a wasted life,” upon his lips. We buried him with such honors as we might, and I, Cora, the eldest, and his pet, planted a white rose on his grave, and watered it with my tears., ’Twas two days after the funeral, and mamma, Alice and I, sat together, holdiner a counsel as to “ways and means.” Alice is only fourteen, but she is a dear, wise little thing, and we-al-ways listen to what she says. Mamma’s only income was the modest pension she had obtained through my father, but that was-not sufficient to meet even our moderate wants; and now we had a heavy debt to meet in doctors’bills and funeral expenses. “If I could only te ich!” I cried, discontentedly. “I’m sure Mr. Perkins would assist me in getting a school, and I could help so much. ” “Ah! well, dear, ’tis no use to discuss that,” said mamma; “I came too near losing you this fall to permit you to attempt teaching soon again.” “No,” said Alice; “I’m to be the teacher of the family, when I graduate; but if I didn’t have to get an education now, do you know what I would do? I would walk right up to Miss Abbie Lightfoot’s and. ask her if she would not take me as a help in her kitchen.” “Dear little thing!” I cried; “I believe you would, you have so much pluck and perseverance. And I have no doubt Miss Abbie would give you first-class w; ges. I might try Miss Abbie myself, I added, with a little laugh; “especially as her handsome nephew is coming, if I were only stronger since that attack of fever.” “No, mamma, said Alice, with great gravity and decision; “Codie must not be expected to engage at anything now, but to help you a little with the household work, and do what she can quietly with her hands.” “I dare not expend any more in crochet material,” I said; “for I have quite a number of unbought articles on hand now.” “I wonder if we would make money if we were to buy an outfit, and do .stamping," said mamma, meditatively. “I’m afraid the competition is too great,” I replied. “And there is so little demand for embroidery in a place of this size,” mamma added, with a sigh.

You might have had a nice Strawberry bed ready and, bearing now, mamma, but for my untimely sickness, and poor Uncle Jack’s <etutn,” said I, regretfully. “I’ve thought of something,” said Alice, excitedly. “The stamping outfit made me think of it. Can’t you make a lovely crazy silk, Codie, and raffle it off, as Miss Jenkins did her winter landscape? Brainerd and Armstrong’s waste embroidery silks cost so little, and think of the nice scraps we have had for years in the attick.” Mamma smiled at this impulsive outburst, and I brightened at the thought, for it really seemed a good one. v “Those scraps were kept to make you and Codie a silk quilt apiece.” “Oh, well, mamma, let us try it,” I said; ‘ht may work well, for Miss Jenkins Was very successful in her venturo, and you can help me so much with the embroidery and fancy stitches.” .“Very well,” she said,j “and what colors we lack I can make ’up for with thosq satisfactory Handy package dyes. A part of my white silk wedding-dress, I have preserved all these years as an Heirloom for you and Allie, will have to be sacrificed to make a sufficient number of colors. White will take the dye better than anything else.” “"Well, mamma, we can’t begin too poon,” I said, enthused at the prospect of any work, arid especially so by that which was both congenial and suited to mv weak condition.

dropping a kiss on onr little Solon’s cheek as I passed, I made my way to the attic, . I stamped several small pieces of jilk next day, having secured .W. P. Pray’s' valuable embroidery books and stamping outfit. Among them was a carnation pink, . and mamma thought she could ombroider it without a flower to copy the colors from. So I tied a blue fascinator over my head, and ran up to Miss Abby Laghtfoot'a to get one. , '

As I neared the front door, I heard Miss Abbie’s voice through the window, saving; “I Am anxious to have yon meet, Cora English, Edward. She is an excellent girl, in my estimation; is also very pretty." “Don’t consider me nngraoious, aunt, but I am afraid an excellent girl and I would have nothing ip common,” laughed Mr. Edward, in reply, adding, indifferently: “and I’m sure I shouldn’t find a rustic beauty to my taste.” “Thanks, my brave young man," I 1 thought, irately, “for so free an expression of your sentiments. Yon shall not he annoyed by a sight of the rustic beauty;” and I ran hastily around to the back door. Mamma could easily have copied her carnation from my cheeks, had she seen them then, I was so provoked. “Allie is not well, Cora,” said mamma, apprehensively, to me the next day, “and I am afraid she is growing ill with an attack of fever. Her symptoms are much the same as yours.” My heart sank within me. Onr burdens seemed very heavy, already, and the additional expense of medicine and doctors’ bills, coupled with the thought that dear little Allie would have to suffer, filled me with dismay. Two days later she was unable to leave her bed, and the physician 'was called. That very afternoon Mr. Crofton, Miss Abbie’s nephew, called to examine Uncle Jack’s collection of curiosities. Through some inexplicable means he caught his foot in the heavy network of vines, which drape our front porch, and gave it a very painful twist. His face was very white as we opened the door, and he was soon lying on the sofa, while the doctor, who was visiting Allie, bandaged his ankle.

I felt no resentment toward him as he lay there, pale and handsome, but afterward I left mamma to tend him, while I sat near Allie. “He cannot be removed any distance for a day or two,” the doctor said, next morning. “So he is forced, after alb” I laughed to myself, “to, accept both sympathy and assistance from ‘that excellent girl, the rustic beauty.’ ” I was too generous to take advantage" of a fallen foe, so, while I worked away with feverish haste on my crazy-quilt, I tried to entertain our guest,and make him feel at ease. My time was too limited to permit me to arrange in braids my unruly hair, on the second morning of his stay, so I allowed it to fall in the large, loose curls it naturally assumes. I looked up once to find Mr. Crofton regarding me intently. “Some ladies,” he said, hastily, as if in explanation of his earnest gaze, “make cobwebs of yellow silk on a black ground, for their silk guilts. You might make a lovely, ensnaring one with a strand of your golden hair.” I played for him softly op my guitar when the twilight fell, and my eyes had grown weary of work, and I read aloud and worked alternatively during the evening. He took the guitar once, and sang to me, while I sat with Allie:

“You’ve tangled my life in your hair, Janet, ’Xis. a golden and silver snare, my pet. ” Our tastes were very congenial, and when, three days later, he took his leaye, I experienced a vague feeling of regret. Ab he limped toward the gate to enter the carriage, I rendered him sttch assistance as 1 could, and asked him to call when quite well again. “I trust I shall see you quite soon, MissCora,”he said earnestly. “I shall be confined at home, perhaps, for several days. Do you never come,” insinuatingly, “to visit my aunt?” “Oh, yes,” I answered, demurely. “She likes excellent girls, but I never obtrude myself on those who do not;” and with a mischievous glance I bade him goodbye, and ran toward the house. He turned a moment, as if to follow me, wavered, then entered the carriage and was driven away. Poor little Annie was very ill for days after that. Our scanty savings, so freely drawn upon for medicine and delicacies, Were rapidly diminishing, and there was, besides, a large indebtedness to meet. “Mr. Young is soon to move away, Cora,” said mamma, lifting her startled eyes from a note in her hand, one morning, “and hopes we are ready to meet his bill for Uncle Jack’s expenses. What are we to do, my child?” “Perhaps we can meet it soon, mamma,” I said, with a false show of courage, “if I only can finish my quilt.” Our heavy expenses had eaten up mamma’s pension for a month or two to come. My own illness, which was the same as Annie’s, had been of long duration, and I could not hope that her’s would be otherwise. Our prospects seemed very dark, indeed. What wonder, then, that, at such times as I was free, I worked on the crazyquilt till my Lands trembled, and my eyes almost refused their vision! One morning a little streak of sunlight gilded the dark clouds that surrounded us. A servant brought a beautiful basket of flowers, with a kind note of inquiry for Annie, and a copy of the Art Interchange for the year, for me, from Mr. Crofton. Oh! that dear Art Interchange; how I had coveted it! nothing could have pleased or helped me more. For its lovely pictures, its useful suggestions, and practical rules for various styles of artistic work are invaluable to one who engages in such things. The next day, however, Annie was worse, and the doctor Jooked so grave that fear tore at my heart-strings. Worn down by night-watching, constant work on my quilt, and by bitter, heavy thoughts, I felt almost as if I should be ill.

But no, I would not yield to such weakness; I must work, for another doctor was to be called in consultation about Annie, which meant another debt. Mamma dragged wearily about, and was too weak, I felt sure, though she never complained, to keep up mnch longer. * Could we afford to keep a nurse ? Everything goaded me on to desperate action. and I took turns in watching Annie on the night of the rises in her fever. At 11 I was dismissed, and mamma took my place. 1 tossed mis-

ecably upon my oed fat an hour, then fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep. At 6 I awoke witli a sudden chill at my heart. I descended the stairs hastily. Mamma met me at the foot Her face told its story. Anna was better. The great danger was past, and with careful nursing she would get well. I was. too happy to Bpeak, and sank down on the steps, Bobbing for joy. Mr. Crofton called after breakfast, to take me to ride. I declined at first, but went finally, at mamma’s insistence. f It wa3 a lovely day; the fresh air did me untold good, and as I drove along I was happier than I had been for weeks. Mr. Crofton descended, in opposition to my remonstrance, to obtain a flower I much admired. “Oh, thanks!” I cried, as he handed it to me; “I shall prize it so much.” A soft light beamed from his eyes. “It will make a lovely model for a little painting I wish to put in my quilt.” “Ah,” he answered, a little quickly, “your thoughts seem entirely engrossed with that quilt. Have you none to bestow elsewhere? - ’ I made no answer. The strange agitation I experienced, I assured myself, was due to my weakened condition. “Don’t try to finish that quilt, now, Miss Cora, I beg,” he next said, unexpectedly and earnestly. “The work is wearing you out It has robbed you of strength and color, and has made that a lily which once was a rose.” “But I must,” I cried, wildly; “yon do not know - ’ —and then I checked myself. He opened his lips as if to speak, then shut them as resolutely as 1 had mine, and our talk afterwards was on indifferent subjects. I found Alice sleeping quietly, when I reached home, as I sought the attic in quest of extra pieces for my quilt. Among other things I found an old necktie of Uncle Jack’s. It was a “made” cravat, and was soiled and threadbare, hut by ripping and turning it I hoped to obtain some pieces. I wai working away hastily, when my scissors struck against a hard object; then another, and another. “This inner lining is filled with small pebbles,” I said. “How could they have iourtd 4heir way in there?” I extracted, in all, sixteen small, and four quite large stones. “They were placed here, perhaps, by Uncle Jack,” I thought, excitedly, “for safe keeping. Can it be they have a value?”

My pulse was bounding, and my fingers trembled, as, I turned the last one into my hand. It was larger than all the rest. “Mr. Gray is an expert lapidary,” I thought, “so I will go right down and see him,” Mr. Gray was startled by my pale face. “Ah, Mist Cora,” he cried. “You are quite worn down from anxiety and overwork.” “Please tell me,” I said, breathle sly, “if these pebbles have a value ? I found them in Uncle Jack’s cravat.” While he examined the stones, 1 waited in intense expectancy. “Yes,”he said.finally ; v these ! pebb l es,’ as you call them, are uncut diamonds, and very fine ones, so far a 3 I can now judge. You have found a treasure. Your uncle spoke to me once about having been for several months in the diamond fields of South Africa. He probably obtained them there.” Annie’s illness, over-work, and the thought of our straitened circumstances, had weighed upon me far more heavily than I knew. The revulsion was too great. As I opened the sitting-room door, I cried out: “Oh, mamma, we are no longer poor! “Uncle Jack” then fell fainting at her feet. Stronger arms than mamma’s lifted me, and when, a few moments later, I regained consciousness, a passionate voice above me whispered “darling,” and I found my hands in the warm clasp of Mr. Crofton’s. I did not draw them away. Was I too weak ? or had I found time in the midst of all my anxieties to leave my heart to Miss Abbie’s handsome nephew?

Mr. Crofton took the last view of the matter, and when mamma came in with a restorative, she Avas greatly annoyed to find my yellow head pillowed upon his breast “Giveher tome, Mrs. Arlington,” he said,” “and I shall take such care of her, frail, little darling that she is. How I have chafed at the thought that she was wearing her strength away over a foolish crazy-quilt, and I could do nothing to prevent! Give me the right now, Mrs. Arlington, I beg.” Charlie had quite won mamma’s heart, during his stay at the house, and after a little talk she gave him a tearful and not unreluctant consent Our diamonds proved valuable as Mr. Gray thought. Alice grew rapidly better in the sunshine of prosperity, and when fall came was quite strong again, while her sister, that excellent girl, “the rustic beauty.” was established in an elegant city home of he* own, with naught to look after but he! husband’s happiness, and the finishing up of a lovely crazy-quilt. So dear Uncle Jack brought about a large share of our happiness,after all, for, but tor his diamonds, Annie an<) mamma would Hot have been so comfortably situated,and but for his cravat, Charlie and I would never have met “ '