The Bloomfield times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1867-187?, December 23, 1873, Page 2, Image 2

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

    man owning nothing but his hoarded
wealth ; and bright metal and handsomely
printed note eould not speak to him, nor
amile upon him, nor comfort him. ' 1
Bought love was hateful to him, and vol
untary affection he could not win.
Mrs. Morrisson trembled aa she approach
ed his house. Not a glimmer of light wai
visible within. The moonlight shone full
on the door-plate, stoop, and railings. She
lifted Ray up the stops, and timidly rang
the boll.
Presently, heavy, slow foot-falls were
heard, bolts were withdrawn, a lock turned,
and Mr. Morrisson opened the door. The
first object that met his eyes was Kay's
white figure and upturned face, the bril
liant moonlight streaming over and past
her, and penetrating the dark ball, envel
oping his own form in its silvery light.
He started, and for a second a curious
expression, half fear, half joy,flaslied across
his sunken features. Then observing Mrs.
Morrisson, he recovered himself and bowed
coldly and formally.
" Will you como In ?" he said, distantly,
as if the invitation wore forced from him.
"For a short time," was all Mrs. Mor
risson could say, as she followed him Into
the hall.
lie led the way into a small room adjoin
ing the parlor, which seemed to serve for
dining-room, stting-room, and office, hand
ed her a chair, and remained standing,
watching her with his keen blue eyes. Ray,
perched on her mother's lap, returned the
gaze with fearless, wondering eyes, ami
then surveyed the room with eager curi
osity. It was not a very attractive apartment at
its best, but just at present it looked very
untidy and dusty. Tho remains of an un
finished meal lay on the table ; the fire was
low in the grate, and several little cooking
utensils occupied the pan. An open desk
covered with papers, tilled one corner of
the room, and a stand crowded with pots of
Howe rs, another. The mantelpiece did ser
vice for a medicine chest, and the closet for
a cellar.
Ray's search for toys and bon-bon) was
unrewarded, and she hid her face on her
mother's shoulder in silent disappointment.
Uncle Jim broke the silence which was
becoming very embarrassing.
"Did you como to me on any special
business, Mrs. Morrisson ?" he asked coldly.
" Yes, I came to ask you to help Albert
out of his difficulties."
Mrs. Morrisson breathed easier now, and
collected her forces to answer and combat,
if necessary, the old man's objections ; de
termined to keep her temper, and submit
with patience to an exhibition of his.
" Well, I have nothing to say to you
farther than I told him," remarked Mr.
Morrisson, conclusively and roughly.
Mrs. Morrisson's cheeks crimsoned at
this decided rebuff.
"He explaiued his affairs to you," sho
said, with an effort, for sho was unaccus
tomed to rudeness, and at first, it seemed
to paralyze her powers of thought and
speech.
" Yes, altogether too well. Ho has been
acting like a fool with his money and now,
that he has thrown away his own, he would
be glad to squander some of mine. Butho
is not going to do it 1"
" lie only wishes you to lend him a sum
that will not injure you," said Mrs. Morris
son, gently.
"He'll have his share when I am gone
like the rest of them. Can't he wait?"
" It would do him more good now. It
would save his name and credit."
"That's very well. But his children have
to live after him. See here ! Do you know
what his expenses were last year and this?"
" No, I do not," and Mrs. Morrisson
sighed as she admitted the fact. 1
"Well, I do;" and having relieved his
mind by uttering a few expletives, Mr,
Morrisson proceeded angrily ; M What
does a young man want with a fast horse ?
Hasn't be the use of his legs I I am near
sixty, and I never had a fast horse in my
life. When I go out I walk, that is, if the
distance is within five miles. Another
thing I saw was a bill fur dinners at Dol
monico's ! Can't you give him a good
enongh meal at home t
" I think he had business people cus
tomers that he did not wish to bring
home."
" Look here I Mrs. Morrisson. I wouldn't
give a brass penny for a man's trade if I
had to drag him before getting it. Those
are the very men that are helping to break
Albeit. Lazy, luxurious sharpers ; here
t day, and no one.knows where to-morrow.
Another item not paid for, is a pair of
solitaire diamond car-rings. 1 wonder who
got them." , :,
Mrs. Morrisson flushed painfully, " I did.
He gave them to me on the lust anniver
sary of our wedding-day." ;
"Uedid,:ehl Well, that's doing bet
ter than I thought. But I cannot excuse
either ef you for this state of affairs. Al
bert must have lost his reason. And then
to see you in the face of all this tomfooler
y decked out in velvet and laces. A new
idea of economy I declare 1" , ,
"I did not know until three week ago
that there was any necessity for it"
" Then he was able give you your regu
lar allowance up to a mouth since," and a
gleam of something like satisfaction crept
into the old man's sharp eyes bent on Mrs.
Morrisson's agitated face. . ,
"I never had a regular allowance," she
said, innocently. 1 ,' .
"And how the devil did ; you keep
house?"
' I ordered what was needed." . , ;
" That was the way, was it? Just got
what you fancied, week in and week out.
All the delicacies of the season, without
knowing Whether you would have a roof
ovor you the next month or not. No won
der ruin has overtaken you. This is the
now idea of marriage. Let me suggest that
in future you take care to find out 'your
husband's income. Be sure of what he
can allow you every week. If it is only
five dollars, live within it. . If he can't give
you the five dollars every Saturday night,
look out for danger ahead. That is my
advice, and that is all I can afford to give
you. I don't know much about you, but
he don't deserve anything more."
" Yes, he does," nnd Mrs. Morrisson
rose to her feet, her eyes flashing, and the
words coming fast and emphatic from her
lips. " He does deserve more from you. Bo
far he has never asked you for one dollar.
He is a credit to the family, and you know
it. He has worked hard ever since he was
put at a business, ne may have been
foolish, but he has not been wilfully dis
honest. He has nothing to be ashamed of,
nothing to hide. Another man would love
such a nephew, and uphold him if it took
every cent he owned in the world." '
" I thought you were rich. People told
me he married a wealthy man's daughter,"
said Mr, Morrisson, sneoringly.
"I own our house. I am willing to
mortgage it or sell it, whichever is best for
Albert. My brother will loan him twenty
thousand dollars on it, if you will also
agree to assist him. But it must be done
now, to-morrow."
" You live in too expensive a house for
a young couple," Mr. Morrisson interrupt
ed, sharply. "Time enough to occupy
such a house as that fifteen or twenty years
from now. But then the young people
now-a-days must begin where their fathers
were satisfied to lcavo off. You ought to
rent your handsome house furnished, and
move into a small one in a plain neighbor
hood ; like this, for instance."
" I am quite willing to livo in a small
house. That would be a very trifling sac
rifice. I am anxious to do anything that
will be for Albert's good."
"Mamma, is that Santa Clans?" in
quired Ray, at this critical momeut, hav
ing surveyed Mr. Morrisson's long white
beard, and untidy gray hair for some time,
very intently.
" No, Ray. Oh ! no."
" What is the child's name?" asked Mr.
Morrisson, quickly.
" Rachel. She is called after her father's
aunt."
,"Ycs. My only sister." His voice per
ceptibly softened.
"How many children have you?" he
inquired, with somo sign of interest in the
question.
"I have four," Mrs. Morrisson an
swered, secretly wondering at his sudden
curiosity. ' ' ' '
"All girls?"
"No, the eldest is a girl."
" Does she look like you ?" '
" Yes, very much. The others resemble
their father." 1
"Sit down a few minutes. I have a
proposition to make to you. I had a
housekeeper, good enough in her way, but
she went off like a fool and got married.
You say you are willing to make sacrifi
ces. If I help Albert out of his difficulties,
will you come and keep house for me ?
Don't look so frightened ; let me explain.
I am pretty ill-tempered, but I never go off
this floor. Oo np, if yon like, and see the
rooms. There are enough of them, and
there is some furniture in them."
"I do not understand," faltered Mrs.
Morrisson, too much surprised to grasp the
old man's idea. " About Albert and the
children?"
" Yon must bring them all here. I want
you to keep the house. I'll give you a
regular salary, enough to feed and clothe
your children and pay what servants are
necessary.' You will earn the money by
attending to my comfort you can manage
it to suit yourself. That is my proposition.
If you say yes, you can go home and tell
Albert to be here before eight o'clock to
morrow morning. If you don't like it,
leavo it. I can offer nothing better.
" I accept It," Mrs. Morrisson said quick
ly, scarcely believing that she had heard
aright t
"When will you come then? Why not
say the day after to-morrow ? You must
put your house in an agent's hands to rent
furnished, and then you have nothing to
do but pack your trunks and send them
here. You see the condition the place is
in.""
" I will come the day after to-morrow,"
said Mrs. Morrisson. It was an effort to
recover her, voice and self-control. Mr.
Morrisson's matter-of-fact, cool, business
tone admitted of no demonstration' or
emotion. He seemed to regard the affair
in the light of a simple business transac
tion) in which each party was to observe
the terms of the eontraot, nothing more. '
" Will you look at the house to-night ?"
he inquired after a slight pause. "" '
It is late. Another time, I think." '
" Yes, I understand. Well, send Albert
to mo early. ' Are you afraid lo go home
alone?" : , : ,; '
No, notnpw,'. was Mrsi Morrisson's
almost inaudible reply. ... Mr.. Morrisson
ended the interview by leading the way to
the. door and opening it ..His "good
night," was abrupt and final. Before Mrs.
Morrisson could return it, the door was
shut and bolted, and retreating footsteps
were audible. ... . ...-,.,.,.. .... . , ,.
The distance home seemed to have short
ened magically. ! Endued with new life
and unnatural strength, holding Kay close
to her bosom, dizzy- with joy, without a
thought of self, or the difficulties of , the
task she had promised to undertake, ' Mrs.
Morrisson hurried along and reached her
own home in safety.
Her ring brought her husband to the
door. His surprise at seeing her and Ray
on the step became almost incredulity
when she told him in low, panting tones
whero she had been. He watched her ex
cited manner, flushed cheeks, and bright
eyes in which tears of delight were spark
ling, and his haggard face lightened iu ex
pression. "What is it, Getty? What have you
dono?"
" I liavo seen your uncle. Oh, Albert,
it is all arranged ! It will all come right 1
ne will see you to-morrow I ne has agreed
to help you, and I have promised to go to
his house, nnd take care of it for him 1"
"You! Gerty?" Mr. Morrisson's as
tonishment was too great to bo expressed
in words.
" Yes. It was his proposition, and I ac
cepted it."
"But, my darling, it is simply impossi
ble. What, yon keep house for him ? It
would kill yon in a month. Uncle James
must bo mad !"
" But he will do nothing for you unless
I keep my promise. He thinks we nre too
extravagant, Albert. And I could learn
to be economical, I nm sure. There is
room enough for us in the house. Let me
try it, at least."
" Gerty, you can not mean it ! My wife
an upper-scrvaut for my uncle ! Ho
laughed bitterly, and his mouth quivered.
" You are putting it in the worst light,
Albert. Let us try to consider it in its
best. Think of yourself, not of me. I can
be happy anywhere if you are free from
anxiety. The knowledgo that your busi
ness is saved will recompense mo for any
trouble. We can not stay here, and your
uncle's idea is to rent the house as it is,
and move quietly to his. I am perfectly
willing to do as he proposes, Albert. It is
no sacrifice it is a pleasure if it saves you
from ruin."
"Gerty, I have been foolish, but not
intentionally so. I never thought of bring
ing you to this. I can not bear it. Talk
of something else. Forget this 1" '
" Forget it how can I ? Archy was here
while you were asleep. He said that noth
ing could be done without your uncle's
help." ' " , '
" Did he tell you that ?"
" Yes, and I knew that you had spoken
to your uncle without success. Listen to
me, Albeit. This must be done. There is
no other alternative. You shall not be
disgraced while I can prevent it. ' If we
act right now, we may have our own home
again. Say you will go to your uncle to
morrow and Jet me keep my promise. I
have been an idle, extravagant woman all
my life. Perhaps I deserve this chango of
fortune." :'
" But not that I should be the cause of
it. Why should nnclo James make such a
proviso the alternative ? What good can
it do to him to break up our happy home ?
He could leave ns here in peace withont
hurting himself. You are not accustomed
to hard work, and pinching economy, such
as he would force upon you. He has no
right to meddle with my family."
" But, Albert, these considerations are
trifling compared with what we gain in
agreeing to his proposal. Am I really so
helpless that you can not trust me in this ?
Of what value are my brains if I can not
use them for you and the children ? I am
not a mere doll to be dressed, and petted,
and shielded from all barm. I would rath
er keep house for Uncle James than see
you looking as you hmve for the last month.
I can be perfectly happy there if I know
that you love me, and that I am necessary
to your comfort, and working for- your
sake."
' "Then have your way, ' Gerty. Let us
try it, bnt if we have bartered our happi
ness for fortune and reputation, I shall
never forgive myself - for this night's
work." '
"I'll risk the consequences," was Mrs.
Morrisson's reply, and then having gained
her point, she laughed and cried for joy,
and then carried Ray up-stairs and fin
ished her cry while the little one went to
sleep. ' ' 1
' Two days after, Mr! Morrisson went
down town lighter-hearted and better tem
pered than be had been for many a day,
and his wife bad the house put in order,
and packed her trunks, displaying an
amount of energy and foresight altogether
at variance with previous experiences.
Uncle James had done everything nec
essary to sustain his nephew's business
credit, but although exhibiting unlooked
for generosity in every other particular, he
was immovable on this one point He
would have the family in his own houae, or
he would have nothing to do with them
whatnver. ,i : -1 .'
So Mrs. Morrisson bravely commenced
her ( new life by taking possession of . her
portion of the house early in the afternoon
of the day decided upon. Her servants
who had chosen to remain with her, sur
veyed the new scene of their labors with
undisguised contempt. But having ex
pressed their disgust at the untidiness of
the house, and the small-sized rooms, they
began to make' it more presentable and
comfortable
The carpets and furniture were new, and
good iu quality, aud after some, judicious
Sweeping and dusting they did themselves
justice.... Uncle James had thoughtfully
absented himself. Edith and Bertie lent
their assistance in having everything pleas
ant before papa should come home, and
Tommy and Ray followed mamma from
garret to cellar searching for Santa Clans,
and losing themselves in wonderful closets
and unexpected corners. Finding that
they were perfectly happy in the delusion
that the house belonged to Santa Claus,
Mrs. Morrisson made no effort to unuV
ceive them. Tired as she was with the
labors and excitement of the day, sho un
packed several boxes, and placed in the
dining-room many of tho tasteful accesso
ries to which her husband's eyes and hands
were accustomed, things unheard of in
Uncle James' domestic economy.
Then sho peeped into the kitchen, look
ed into the sauce-pans, complimented Jane
on her success in restoring order and clean
liness, and having arranged hor pretty
hair aud changed her dress, sat down with
the children around her, to welcome her
husband.
Fortune favors tho bravo. The first
evening was on tho wholo a success. Un
cle aud nephew arrived together, both
hungry and absorbed in the business affairs
which had occupied their entire day. Mr.
Morrisson kissed his wifo nnd children, and
took in tho surroundings in silonce, Uncle
James shook hands with his niece, nodded
at Edith, and patted Bertie on the head.
Tommy and Ray eyed him from a safe dis
tance with undisguised admiration, and
exchanged confidences behind an arm
chair. " His hair is white," said Tommy ; " but
where are the toys ?"
"It is not Christmas," said Ray, con
clusively. " Well 1 I know that," reflected Tom
my. Either the well-prepared dinner, or the
children's faces around the table, affected
Uncle James so decidedly, that he looked
rather pleasant, and made several vain at
tempts to coax Ray on his knee.
The little creature evaded every effort
with timid grace ; and having taken refuge
behind hor mother's chair, renuwed her in
spection of the old gentleman's face.
"You don't know who I am," he said
to her, intercepting one of her rapid
glances. '
"Yet, me do."
"No, you don't." :
" You is Santa Claus," persisted Ray.
Old Mr. Morrisson looked pleased at the
odd fancy. " Come and tell Santa Claus
what you want him to bring you on Christmas-Day,"
ho urged. ;''
Tommy forgot his bashfulness instantly,
and perched on his grandnncle's knee,
began a breathless summing up of. the
wants of the four children, but Ray's tim
idity and awe were not to be overcome by
any visions of toys or sugar-plums conjured
up by Tommy's vivid imagination.
The week that intervened before Christmas-Day
was a trying one to Mrs. Morris
son. Her husband, however, seemed con
tented in view of his altered position with
regard to business, and this knowledge
mainly sustained her spirits and courage
The plunge once taken, Mr. Morrisson
felt it the least; on his wife the heaviest
burden was laid. Uncle Jame's tastes and
whims had to be consulted, and the ser
vants were disposed to be cross and pert,
acting as if conferring a favor by living
with her. Perhaps the change from liber
al supplies to the careful buying now so
necessary, caused the alteration in them.
She had been so bountiful hitherto, pur
chasing in quantities, and never restricting
or limiting the magnates of the kitchen.
Now, matters were different. Mr. Mor
risson bad little money to give her, and
the old mau's allowance,although sufficient
if carefully managed, would not provide for
any extravagance in food or dress. . ,
Besides, she was determined not to ask
ber husband for money. Her anxiety to
have all the claims on him settled, so that
they could return to their old home as soon
as consistent with their means, was as great
as his. ' v .
1 To further this object was now her care.
She marketed cautiously, calculating every
expense with an exactness and rapidity
surprising to herself ; but her capabilities
had been hitherto a sealed book, only for
want of a motive to call them forth.
On Christmas-Eve, she had paid for
everything used during the week, provided
the dinner for the following day, aud was
the happy possessor of twenty dollars over
and above her expenses. ' ! ' '
So far Uncle James' salary, as lie thought
fit' to call it, had lasted very well ; but
when she sat down that night to debate
about presents for the children, her mind
misgave hor. . I
Visions ef school bills, bills of shoe-mak-ers?
dress-makers, ; milliners, and hosts of
unlooked-for . incidental expenses rose up
before her, and she closed her pocket book
put away her bonnet, and concluded to do
without everything that was not a neoes-
ity.
Her husband laughed at her when she
told him the result of her long reverie and
then drew out his purse. -
"My pot, If, you want some money for
presents, tako it." She' lookod . at him
earnestly.
"Could I spend it on unnecessary things
consistently?" fr.r t ,
" Well, no Gerty," not consistently. It
will be a long time, I fear, before we can ,
hope to indulge our tastes as we once did
on a Christmas-Eve. If I could stand
again, as I was this bight two years ago;"
" It Is possible, is it not?"
"Yes, if you help me as you are doing
now. Gerty, this Christmas has brought
me something, and that is a better knowl
edge of the wife whom I thought I under
stood thoroughly. I was a very ignorant
man until a week ago. But for this trou
blo I might have died, and never apprecia
ted you, as you deservo, never have known
the real worth and ability of my own wife.
So, you see, I have received my Chriotmas
gift, the richest over sent me, the most
precious."
"And now you have givon me mine. To
be understood and appreciated is the great
est gift a woman can receive."
"And prosperity, Gerty, was not tending
to bestow those upon us. Adversity dis
closed the jowels that were nearly lost for
ever. In the future, whatever cares may
arise, I shall know where to come for coun
sel and help, as well as for comfort and
sympathy."
"I think I should feel perfectly happy
this minute if I only had some little things
to put in the children's stockings," said
Mrs. Morrisson, playfully. " They have
hung them in the kitchen chimney, with
sucli perfect faith in finding them full in
tho morning."
" I think their faith will be rewarded.
Just now I saw uncle Jim bringing in some
very suspicious packages. Perhaps he
would like to appear in the character which
Ray persists in ascribing to him. . He has
so few pleasures, Gerty, and he has been so
kind, if he takes this out of our hands we
will not grudge it to him." ;
Christmas morning was ushered In by a
very unusual commotion in uncle James'
quiet house. Mrs. Morrisson was awaken
ed by cries of delight and exclamations of
joy, mingled with tho hurried pattering of
little feet on the staircase; and then the
four children rushed Into the room breath
less, to tell the tale.
"Santa Claus is down-stairs t" screamed
Tommy, who was minus his jacket aud
shoes. '
" Santa Claus, Santa Claus !" echoed
Ray, excitedly, "him tumbled down tho
chimnoy." . ' ,
"It's uncle James," shouted Bertie,
" and oh 1 papa, you ought to see him.
Oh t hasn't he got lots of things. Wby, he
is sitting on a big sleigh, and he has a
whole crowd of toys on his back. Come
and see him."
"I am sure it is uncle James," said
Edith, "because he laughed when Ray
went up and and put her hand on his
beard. But he will not speak to us."
"Let US' go back I" Bbouted Tommy,
'he may fly away ;" and off he ran, fol
lowed by the others.
When Mr. and Mi's. Morrisson TeacheJ
the dining-room, a novel sight was pre
sented to their astonished gaze. Undo
James, artistically arrayed as Sauta Claus,
was ' engaged in distributing to the chil
dren the contents of a large pack. " Dolls,
wagons, steamboats, gnns, whips, drums
and boxes of sugar-plums lay scattered
about them, while each examined the
treasures in detail, and exclaimed afresh
over the beauties of every toy. '
Every member of the household was re
membered, and on Edith's white throat
glistened the heavy chain and monogram
locket that she bad ceased to think of.
" Come, Albert, help me out of this
sleigh," said uncle James, unfastening his
snow-flaked cloak, and removing his long,
gray wig and beard that had somewhat
disguised bis features. The - children
shouted with delight. -.'.
I told you so I I knew it was Uncle
James I" cried Edith, running to kiss him.
Ray sprang on his knee unasked, and clasp
ed her arms around his neck. '
Uncle James looked delighted, and gaz
ed triumphantly around him.
"This is my Christmas gift," he said
" You can not toll how happy it makes me.
But for this little child I should be alone
this morning, as cross aud miserable as
ever. Site has make me understand aud
appreciate Christmas-Day."
' 13T Two gentlemen, traveling in Soot
land, were discussing the fare at different
hotels. One observed at his hotel he had
tea so strong it was necesrary to Confine It
in an iron vessel. " At mine," said the
other,' " it is made so weak it has not
strength to ruu out of the teapot."
BT" A week filled with selfishness, and .
the Sabbath stuffed full of religious exer
cises, will make a good Pharisee, but a
poor chrlstaln., There are many ' persons
who think Sunday Is a sponge with which
to wipe out the sins of the week.