LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1519, 30 December 1878, Page 3

LITERATURE.

AUNT ESTHER'S WILL. By Florence H. Birney. There were three letters left at our house that morning, rme f r mother, one for me, and one f'T Lottie. Ted, our ten-years-old pride, plague, aud treasure, complained tecause the carrier had not left him some mail, too. My lotter was an invitation from my friend, Lizzie Maynard, to attend a little dance at her house that evening, and Lottie's was from Dick Hartwell, who wanted her to drive with him to Holly Springs that afternoon. 'Of course I shall go to Lizzie's,'l said. ' And, Lottie, that elegant Mr French is to be there. I have been ju.st crazy to meet him. I have an intuition that he will be my fate.' 'Good luck to yon,'laughed Lottie. 'I am so glad of this chance to drive to Holly Springs. Just think of Jack Hartwell's asking me, when any of the other girls would have jumped at the chance to go' ' Why shouldn't he ask you ?' I cried, indignantly. ' He could not find any one prettier if he hunted May view through.' 'Don't compliment me, Hsttie,' said Lottie. ' You know we are never dressed as well as the other girls, and young men are so sensitive about the dress of the lady they escort about. I am always surprised when I am invited to go anywhere I shall wear my black bunting this afternoon, and you shall lend me your lace scarf.' 'That black bunting I' I said in a dreary tone 'lt has done duty all summer, and now you are going to parade it out all this fall. I do wish Aunt Esther would die and leave us all her money.' We were startled by a dismal groan from mother, who flung on the floor the letter she had been reading, and threw herself back in tho chair with a tragical expression of countenance. ' What is the matter ?' Lottie aud I cried together. 'Your aunt Esther is coming,' said mother. • Coming here ?' we both asked in aßtoni h id tones. 4 V es, coming to pay us a visit of a month', replied mother. ' She says she has just returned from paying Char'es a visit, and must now come to see us; that she is growing old, and must decide how it would be best to leave her property.' .' She is coming to inspect us, then,' I said. 'She evidently wishes to see whether Uncle Charles' family or ours is the most deeervi' g ' ' Wo need her money most,' said Lottie. ' But I doubt if we ever get it,' said mother. ' She hai sucb queer freaks. You will all have to be very careful how you act, and try to suit her in every respect.' 'l'll make a peifect martyr of myself,' I said. ' 0 dear, to think that we may spoil our chance of being rich by a word or a look !' ' It's something like walking over burning plowshares, or a powder magazine,' said Ted. ' But I don't care for her old money, and If she says anything about it to me I'll tell her so.' ' Ted ! Ted !' shrieked Lottie, * have you no soul for wealth ? You dear, blessed little ignoramus, you may have to be as poor as a church rat all your life if Aunt Esther takes a di-like to you-' ' Giils, don't waste time in talking,' said mother. ' Go up stairs and air the bed in the spare chamber, get out the best pillowcases, and hang up these new muslin curtains.' ' But there is no hurry,' said Lottie. ' But she is coming to day,' said mother. ' Today!' we echoed, in unmitigated tones of disappointment and chagrin. ' Y; s, she will be here at half-paßt four,' said mother. 'Then I cannot go driving to Holly Springs,' groaned Lottie. 'And 1 can't go to Lizzie's to-night,' I almost sobbed. 'No, of course not. You must not be away the first evening of her coming. Why, she would consider it a deadly insult,' said mother. ' But I mean to go fishing this afternoon,' said Ted, firmly. ' Ted, you mustn't think of such a thing ! She would feci your being away as much as if you were a grown man. fc he ia so sensitive to slights,' said mother. Ted walked out of the room, banging tho door behind him, and Lottie and I went sighing up stairs to get the spare room ready for *he reception of our august visitor. Aunt Esther Grimm was my mother's aunt, and consequently great aunt to Lottie, Ted, and myself We had never seen her, but hau heard much of her peculiar ways and strange freaks from my cousins, who were favored by an annual visit from their stiff and ungracious relative. She wa3 worth considerable property, but never by word or hius. of. any sort had sho intimated to, whom she intended to leave it, My Uncle Charles was in good circumstances and did not actually need an addition to his income, but we needed an addition to ours very badly. Mother had been a widow seven years, and her income was a very small one. We managed to live in a respectable manner, but that was all. Oar house lacked many comforts, and we could not permit ourselves any luxurio*. It was a gre t disappointment to me not to be able to go to Lizzie Maynard's dance, I had heard much of Mr French a distinguished traveller who was stopping in Mayview for a few days only, and had longed to. see and converse with him And to think that my old prim auit must be the meani of denying me the pi asure I had so, coveted. Well I hoped I should be rewfirded for my saoritice at her death, Lottlo w's also disappointed, for she had long cherished a tender feeling for Dick Hartwell, who was handsome and wealthy, and from whom she had received marked attention of lr»te. much to the chagrin of a certain Emily Barcourt, whose hopes in the direction uf Dick Hartwell had once been very high. ' We must get out our antique treasures,' fa : d Lottie, ai we hung the muslin curtains together. ' It would nevey do not to display Aunt Esther's pveciaus gifts before her face.' ' 0, certainly, we must show her that wo pri:;e them,' I said, ' but I shall look like a Light in that comb.' ' And tho brooch will hide the entire front of my dresa—almost.' laughed Lottie, 'but we must show our appreciation of her gifts, and so much depends upon this visit. I shall do my best to please her, for 0, Hattie, I am so tired of being poor.' At three o'clock Lottie and T dressed ourselves in our beat, to. do honour to our aunt, and 1 put in the coil at the back of my head the bGj»e tortoise shell comb, which was tho on, y present I had ever received from Auut Esther, aud which T abominated for its intense ugliness. Lottie also wore the immense brooch which had hern sent to her by Aunt Esther the year before, and which she had never worn before. It contained the picture of a very red-faced young man, in a high frill and a queue, and wo knew it to be of soaie relative of my aunt's, but she had nvver told us his name, nor had we, eArod sufficiently about it to ask her. '1 ad was sent up to his room with instruotions from mother to don his best Riit and wash the paint, glue and molasses marks from his face He made no remark as he left us, but the door was closed in a manner which spoke volumes, and wra greatly feared the.c would be war besween our stately aunt and our small brother. At foy,r o'clock the train came in, and at half-past four our aunt was with us. She came up from the station in a carriage, and was so swathed in rugs, blankets and shawls that it took us several minutes to get her unwrapped. Then she stood before us, spare, bony, angular in liyaio, with sharo grey eyes and a !e,lso front of jet black hair; she was certainly not a lovable looking person, 'This is Lottie,' she yaid in grim tones. ' 1 know I sent that brooch to Lottie,' eyeing the abomination sharply as if to see whether it had grown ©Sacked

or tarnished since leaving her hands. Then she greeted mother and me, giving one of her piercing looks at the comb in my hair. I waa terribly afraid she would ask me how often I had worn it, but I was spared that trial. ' I understood you had a son,' she said in grim tones, looking in every corner &e if to see whether Ted was concealed beneath the carpet or behind the sofa. 'Yes, I have,' said mother, gazing wildly about. •My little Theoiure, I fdel sure you will like him. He is upstairs I know he caa't have heard of your arrival Hattie,' turning to me with an imploring look, ' will you call Theodore ?' I went out into the hall and called that small brother of mine in dulcet tones. I called until I felt ashamed of calling so often, and then I went up in the room devoted to Ted's exclusive use. It waa in its usual confusion, but that did not strike dismay to my heart. No, it was the eight of a pair of navy blue knickerbockers lying on the floor, and a small pair of red hose, from the toe of one hanging a slip of white paper. I seized it, unpinning it from the sock as I read in plain print a line from that brother of mine : ' I'm goin fishin ; darn ant i say.' Slowly I went down stairs, and standing in the hall, made telegraphic signals to mother through a crack in the door. She understood me and came out in the hali, anxiety plainly written on her face. •Hattie, where's Ted ?' 1 He's gone,' and I placed the note in her hand, She read it with a smile and a frown. ' We must try to conceal this from Aunt Esther,' the said. 'But how?'l asked. ' I must manage it in some way,' and then we both went into the parlor again. Aunt Esther looked suspicious. Her keen gray eyes were snapping viciously. *ls your son ever coming to pay his respects to me V she asked. ' Yon must be a little patient, dear aunt,' said mother. 'Curs is a small household, and we are not rich. Keeping but one ser. vant we must all run errands every now and then. Dear Theodore will soon be home, I hope.' ' Umph!' said aunt, but she asked no more questions. At tea time I went out into the diningroom to set the table, and there sat Ted in the back door scraping the mud from his shoes, (To hp. continued.)