A TWOFOLD REFORMATION.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LII, Issue 115, 12 June 1909, Page 3

A TWOFOLD REFORMATION.

.(% Arthur E. McFarlfine.)

And there were reasons enough whv they liked Aunt Ureckcnridge," said the Colonel, stopping at liis first cigar because it was .Sunday evening. "She wag one of the finest old war-horses of «ood works and straight theology that ever charged a line of false doctrine or snorted high challenge under the battlementsof JfeelzebUib. Xor did she snort in challenge, either, so much as in contempt! ™rs, if the Adversary had ever ventured to conic up against her she'd have had '"in t,l(! 'premises an' lircakin' for cover mighty quick. I reckon, too, that liavin' neither husband nor children it was on!v nature /or her to act the way she did and give the most, of her time to lookin' ,:fter her nephews an' niece,s. She w i)s good to them. too. She couldn't treat tlpin well enough. If she bossed them it was for, their own test interests. An' when vofi s'top to consider how naturally perverse au wrong-headed the younger "etferajtion always is, she had a most-wide-extendjir charity.

"It was charity, moreover, in iboth senses of the word. Ma vibe for ii«r misfortune, the dear old girl had been left « little prope'ty of her own—the old place an' a few thoiisa ul dollars in ready money to keep : t fenced with. And (.hat ready money -he regarded, as a matter of co'se, as srnietliin' just'entrusted to her to give away! I reckon it was about the readiest ready money ever disseminated souM) ~f CovinrrfoT' When one-of her 'brother t'al's "girls : married, it -vvei-.c -without savin' that she. Aunt 8.. was to he nllowed to set lier up in clothes an' furnishin's. A-ul as fast as Clay Conker's or her sister •I'll Ann Tc.vnley's boys could follo-v each other oyer to Richmond to law or medical school, why. as notliin' but hi:right an' privilege in the matter, she supplied the money. As she might have said herself, '[f (didn't supply" it, who would? For none «' the m.t of them have any.' And for the .-ame reason, or ] lack of it. ,hv degrees thev all got to have the feelin' that what Aunt 11. had was sort of naturally inexhaustible. "Well, no need to say that that couldn't go on for ever. And in the end even she had to come to sen it—whe:i neither her bankibook nor Jier little old red lacquer cashbox would let her see anything else. But she wasn't eonfossin' her s'hame to (he world. What she did was to so up fo Lexington under color of standin' godmother to another Bixbv babe, and put a mortgage 6:i her prone'ty! Of co'se you couldift siy that i she really knew what^M|rtlß^^. c

paratively triflin' sum—on that place of hers. Wasn't it straight - descended Brcckenridge land, to say notliin' more about it? "And that started her again with almost as much as she'd had any time in the last two years. Granted, she'd have i to pay back a little, with interest, every three months or so. But, sho', with all the rest clear, no cause to worry whatever! Inside three weeks she was doin' what she'd ibeeu honin' 'to do since New Year scttin' her nephew, Charlie Brcckenridgc up in 'business again. "I've said that she had a most wideextendin' charity. And what she'd been iloin' for this Charlie boy might well have 'been put in sus exhibits 'A,' 'B,' an' C iu standin' proof of that. When ue ivas a little shaver he'd been what you'd •all a 'limb.' Jinny an' maiiy's the time le'd run for Aunt H.'s to save himself a ickin'. And, grown up, he was a bigger limb'! lie had the brains of his family, in'-good nature enough for all outdoors. :'ut for gettin' along without work, an' I'tirrin' up natural old Satan ! lly .his time, too, lie was past twenty-five, mt no more responsible than as if he'd lever got into long trousers. If he d leen through for law at Richmond, nohill' had ever been able to get him to

practise. You'd sn'ul he'd only learned liis law so as to experiment in the ways there was of puttin' himself on the wrong side of it.' Oh—savin' that he was always a gentleman, of eo'sc—he was sho' the Breclccnridge black sheep.

An' no one knew that better than Aunt li. did herself. But no matter. Of all her legion, of nieces an' nephews, Charlie it was she'liked the "best. And, as said before, inside three weeks she had his sign out.

"It was supposed to 'be a land ollite business he'd opened up this time. And along then, too, there was consid'able of a boom in town, 'bcca.ise of the two new railroads connectin' above there, on the river. It should have been a

right good time for cuttin' up an' sellin' land. But this here worthless Charlie, it seemed like he needed all the lands that come into his hands to sow more wild oats on. I calc'late that for every township map an' roll of surveyor's paper in that s tand-up desk of his, there was uever a dav "when .there wasn't lif-

teen dead bottles in the cupboard under it. An' an for any .business cards he might have around, they were never less than two inches' deep beneath the sort witli the r ound corners an' the white-faced kings an' queens on them. "Yet the thing that Aunt B. couldn't in no wise stand for was tlris. More because his dad had accused him of dob' it than for anything else, Charlie had taken to carry-in' a line of lottery tickets'. I don't know as he ever sold a whole one all the time he had them. An' it just kept him busy remeniberin' to «cnd them back on' time, if he wasn't to have to buy 'em in himself. But he let on that he was matin' a heap of money out of that agency work of his. And I reckon, too, he paid himself in the fun he got out of gcttin' Aunt B. lnyin' into him over it. "Mind, I want you to know that he was most mighty fond of her. Certain as Sunday evenin' came, up there with the old da'me you could be -sure to find him spendin' it. Never was a girl in town got grip enough on him to switch him off from that. He used to call it liis private way of goin' to church. . . But, any time Aunt B. didn't begin about the lottery business of herself, he'd manage to think up some" way to set her goin'! "'Aunt,' he'd say, sittin' back from table with a face as long as an experience meetin', 'l've 'been doin' a lot of tliinkin' lately, about what you were sayin' last time I was here, and I made fist to borrow a Bible an' look up what Agag an' Shimei an' Abinvelech have to say about lottery sellin'; and, Lawd. 1 hate to tell you for fear of hurtiu' your feelings. But, Aunt, they're all of them dead against you. So far as I can studyit out, there's nothin' those lads were

more given to, from Genesis to Jerusalem, than the drawin' of lots. Look at the way they divided up the land of Israel. Look at the Levites'; didn't they get up a reg'lar out-an'-outer of a lottery, with old King David to draw for 'em? /I'akc Joshua, too, didn't he cast lots, down in Shiloh? An' then, why, there was old Lot himself * "By that time Aunt B. she'd be under i steam pressure of a thousand to the neh. An' "Charlie Breckcnridge!' she'd et go. 'Ain't you—ain't you askared or yourself' Not only arguhi' for lotdries, ibut fetehin' your arguments from he Scriptures! I tell you, my lad, you -you—you wouldn't [last do it iii a hunderstorm!" "An' Charlie, he'd go buek to town iek_:«l enough to hold him for anotlie

week. .Maybe, too, next Sunday, he'd let her take him to church in earnest. An' then atl the Jeremiah in her would get tangled up in the motherly tender i reckon her heart was about as fine an' simple iin old root-knot of bittersweet as was ever grown in that part of KaintncUy. ■"An', so it 'went on till one dav it came that for the best of reason*' the lottery business didn't look as funny to Charlie. He'd gone down river to help entertain a gentleman from Bowling tireen. An' there'd been consid'afole or a mad time. The result was that lie didn't get "back to his office till next day afternoon. Arid one of the first things his eyeis lit on Allien he did get back was a little package of ticketsthree in part and one uncut—that should have been returned uSouth to headquarters at latest by the Jirst mail that morning; an' not liavm' been no returned, beyond anv doubt whatever they'd be checked oil' against Charlie's account as sold. Even at his agent's pricc # he stood to lose sometliin ? like seventy dollars. An' for the next halfhour lie «nt ruWiiii- up his back hair an' look-in' sho' foolish. |f i,,. „„i,i j otte! .y ticket.-, he'd never ibefore kept a;iv out to,- hik own use. He knew a sight too much aJjout the chance vou get with tlieiu.

"J say he sat there lookin' s ho' foolish for the next half-hour. But there was 'lilson blood in him. •]■! a man kin "it into a thing, he kin git out of it ag'fii,' as old f!randy Tilson used to say himself; n' Charlie was the dead .spit of him. An' by the end of the hour a grin begin* to work out around his' left eye, an' 'Why, ya'as,' he says, 'Sho'! Ya-as, of co'se! Now 1 remember about these here tickets. Seemed like I must have had some idea in keepin' them around this way. These .here tickets are the tickets T got to si-IT to Aunt B.l' '•An', leavin' himself iiiisliavcd. he puts on a black stock, takes the road out of town,nn' climbs'the hill to the old place, head down an' arms draggin' just about as if he'd been follow-in' a hearse. "She met him halfway down the piazza. An' 'Charlie!' she* says, 'whatever in the nation has 'been 'ail' tak-n you >'

"'Aunt,' he says. 'J reckon I been served my notice to turn over a newleaf.'

'Well, by this time Aunt Breckenridge, she's had a, lot of experience of Charlie. An' 'Whtever it is,' she tells herself, 'l'm not goin' to let him fool me.' An' she gets out her slices an' adjusts 'em, an' takes a good, long, l.eartsearehin' loo'k at him. "But he-stood it ns if he hadn't noted that shevfvas lookin' in his direction. /'An''then—'Son.' she says, 'tell me right/but what it was—a dream?' "JSupposin' I told you I'd seen the gh/fst of Armless Solomon?' he savs. /".'n' lawks, anybody that saw the ghost of Arinle,= s Solomon! Shucks, it was doubtful if they was goin' to get even the chance to repent! . " 'Oh. I wish it had been a dream.' he says; 'an', before I cant another bottle —before I turn another card ' "'Charlie!' she savs, spreadin' herself out over him like a benediction. 'Charles! oven if von are a-foolin' me '

"'T know,' he says. 'l'm goin' to bo powerful laughed at '

"'Laughed at! Laughed at!' she says. 'Let 'em laugh! Be proud an' rejoice to hear 'em laugh!' "'An' as for those, cussed loiieic 1 Meets,' he says, 'if T ever fetch auollier of them! Of eo'se T'll have to sell what 1 got on me now. but once they're gone an' qui! with '

"Well, when he'd said that—an' when her mind had seized the fact (hat he had thos tickets ritrht there with him—if anything on earth was sure, it was sure thit :hev we.ro never goin' to s'ee outside davlighr again. "At first she was for hnvin' them right away to a candle an' burn them for a cleansin' sacrifice. But "

'"But. no—oh, goodness, no,' he tells her, 'he can't do that. He owes Hickson for thns-o clothes he's sittin' in.' he tells her. 'an' AVillis three months' keen for that black Johnnie horse of his. As a mere matter of pavin' his debts—in common honesty,' he says, 'he's forced to realise on them.'

An' (hen there wa\ only one thing for it. Her eves had b!\gnn to turn toward that little red lachner strong-ho\-of hers already. An' yeltWlie liim- had come again avhen she felt (fce couldn't rightly afford it. ''She w-.asVtsaviu^^^^^^^fc^B

C : : f that was makin' her nothin' less than uervous. " 'Why, Aunt,' says Charlie, 'you look at me as if I was cxpectin' you to buy those tickets.' " 'An' so I will,' she says, 'if there's no other way of managin' it. But the Lawd knows there's reasons enough why I hadn't ought 'to do it. Am, now, lovin's, jou ain't a-tfoolja' me!' '•And if he 'puts hand on heart over it, that's only because, as I've tried to make plain, like everybody else, lie il naturallv got into the way of tlinikm I of Aunt' 11. as if she had 'the money oi llcttv lirc.cn. This, too, in his favor: he lc'tV her see only that whole tk-kel and one of the parts, they bcin' enougl at retail to cover What he's due to paj ill at wholesale on them all. . . . "Once thev were hers, of eo'se she <wi: right for Wrnin' them now hersel'f. Ye no, on second thoughts, she won't. -• new Charlie's goin' to date from tlm day afternoon. An' she leafs them awa, among some old love-letters of hers tha nobody shew she had, 'to be a reuieli brancer for all time to come.

"And Charlie, he goes back home that night tellin' ■himself that, tukiu' into account size, quality, an' completeness, as a joke on the old girl he reckons he has a right to feel that he'sestab'.ished a new record, lie does make tip his mind to get that seventy back to 'her somehow. But he well knows that it's the do that's goin' to bring her up just a-rarin'. When, next Sunday, or maybe the Sunday after, he'll break it to her, he can see her jnut rise mouth open, an' loi't her specs in her rush to get at him, nil' wool him till neither of them can speak any more! 'An' to think.' he'll tell her, 'how I'd look if anybody else heard of you buyin' lottery tickets!' He'll have to' tax her another fifty for not lottin' it get any further! I "Yet that next Sunday cauie, an' the Sunday after, and she didn't just seem to be in the right condition o' mind for it. Week aftel, too, she went up to see the 'Lexington Bixbys again. An' the next, she said she didn't know as she felt right, well. So Charlie had to decide that he'd hare to hold that joke from her a little longer. "He was still holdra' it from her when, ore Tuesday nioniin'. he opens his Despatch. An' there, spread out over two top columns, were the figures -for the last di'r win'. He reads 'em—reads 'em again—and his fingers begin to get the shakes so he can hardly get his memo, book out of his pocket. . . . Aunt B. hadn't drawed the capital prize, but she'd drawed the second, for fifty thousand—and with her •whole ticket, at that!

"Well, he don't know •where that puts hiin. It's long enough before he can even get his mental breath for it. But he was game when he did. He just ketches himself one clip on the jaw, an', 'This -was due you'.' he says; 'it was due an' overdue, An' I reckon the question now is how to get at the blessed old girl to make her keep it. The first an' most dang'rous thing is to get her safely told!'

"And with that, right away for Aunt B.'s he starts. 'Blim blam you, too, for your smartness, Charlie Breckcnridge !'' he says, 'his fedin's gettin' away from him in a sort of final groan as he makes her gate. 'How d'you know but what you could 'a' used some of that fifty thousand V

"He hadn't any chance to tell her, not at first. He could see in a minute that Aunt B. had been cryin'—an' cryin' for a day an' a night! ■ '"Why, Aunt,' he gays—'Aunt!'

"An', 'Oh, Charlie, boy,' she answers him, 'you find me sittin' in a heap o' trouble!'

'"Trouble! In aheap o'trouble! Now, whatever trouble was it possible for Aunt B. to get into?' "'Oh,' she says, ■they'll all of them know s oon enough, an' I reckon I might as well start with 'tellin' you. Two or three years ago, up at Lexington, I had to go into some little business dcalin's— Some foulness dcalin's ove- -aisin' money. An' at the time it-was all jii.r. as straightforward an' as simple. But now—oh, darlin', one o' their people ka=, up here yesterday, an' if you could havt heard how lie talked to me! Oh, if what they say ain't just lettin' on '

"Tchck! Xot much lacks for her lo be gettin' right hysterical. "'Aunt!' says Charlie, 'what you—what you gettin' at! A little more an' I'll think you been puttin' a mortgage on yourself!'

" 'An', my dear, darlin' boy,' she savs, 'I reckon that's just what I been adoin'! .Some of it your prope'ty, too, as set down legally in my will the week I got it! Oughtn't that to keep them from tetchin' it, alone? Hut you know aliout law, nn' maybe I'd I„. 3 't j us t let you see their papers for yourself.' "An' out of lier red latquer box she brings what don't need to be unfolded to show itself for a mortgage. It was a mortgage, too, that as values were in that end of the town, was good to swallow the old place just ill one first gulp! So a second time that dnv Charlie sits there tryin' to get hack liii- mental breath.

"An', of coVe, Unit reminds liim of wli.il he'd lost his breath over the first time, an' what he'd come up there to toll licr ill tlie beginnin'. '•Well, there wits just one thing to do. to sit air hold her old hands so she'll have to listen, an' tell her it all. ritrht now. ... °

'An when he's finished, for a minute it leaves tlrm both ■without a word. "•Oh, Charlie-Charlie, son!' she tries an' just lets the tears run. 'Oh, you ain't a-.fnolin' me again, now—just "because you liml me ketched tin's way'' An', -Oh, I don'i reckon .1 ought to take it. I don't: reckon I can!'

'•An' then, when he tries to say sonvcthin' to .put a laugh into it, for if he can't laugh he's sho> goin' |„ do ' sometlim else -•Oh. son. it ain't anvthin' to joke annul.' she -ays; 'it's soui'cthin' to pray over.'

'An down i here she goes on her knees, and. her hand clutchin' hold <o Ins, she takes him with her. And, as s'oon as she can speak for crvin', she starts into Ml just how it'd been about that mortgage. '".She'd only intended it as a tem-■po-ary matter, along of l;er hsvin' to have a little ready money just for the tune hem'. When J'n Ann's Elizabeth had gone an' married np.+liat wav, it'd ketched her never looliin' for it*' An' she'd had to have a little, too, for Bent's boy to pay his fees an' get him a few clothes so he could go to college lookiu' a Urcckeiifidge. An' then she'd had io have so much more for Charlie, there beside her, to set him up i„ his land office; .because he hadn't felt himself just fitted for the lav, an' no he'd never -really had a chance before."

"An' that fetched Charlie. If his juii, an' Aunt B.; s belief in him. meant such hours for her as this! ... v "'An' it wasn't,' Aunt B.'s goin' on again—'it wasn't as if she'd been careless an' free an' spendthrift with that money, an' puttin' it on herself. She could just show how she'd usyd every cent of it. An', oh, Lawd,' she says, just hungerin', 'if You heeu an' (ix.nl that lottery 'business just (o come in this way an' help me out—if. now, it'd be all right for me to take half an' make Charlie here take the other half"'

'Hell, when Charlie gets to bis 'feet again he' s still most mightily shaken; there's a change in him that extends right to his voice. But the change is, that somehow or other, in that live minutes, he's .become a grown man. Jle's become a grown man, and, after liearin' Aunt IS. pourin' out all her .simplicity there, its just as if, somehow, too .-he's become a. little girl—mavbc a little niece of his that's been kctcircd in miscli:cf an' sent to the Mourners' Bench. And he, as the grown man has got to he.p her out. It's him that first begins to teel that he's gettin' the answer to that prayer of hers'. An' it's the ri.>ht answer, too! 'The Lawd—well, well"of co'so lie's terrible set again' the lottery business But - well, He reckons He am t got any rules 71c can't break once in a while.

"And after that there's four or five minutes that lhcre' s »no call for me to 1 go into. .Suffice to say that Aunt B. : she gets the most part of Charlie's tears • an he gets the most part of hers—,.,' two people neve,- g„t much closer "But, by-an'-by, they can begin io ta'k once more. An', 'Well. Aunt' s JCharlie, 'as nigh as I can'see it.'we'not only got our chance to make our start again, hut-as soon as you've fetched two fresh han'kerchiefs from the pre -' we got to start ( 0 make it.' "'Oh, Charlie,' she savs.' 'after this 1 don t feel as if I could CV er have any conlidcnce in myself-jo more' '".\ot another word, Aunt.' savs Uiarlio; 'lve tfell-felt that wav 'so many times-so many times, m'vseif '.at I wnldn't really tell you. A.' f <;.ow what it means, too.' It moan e(v -A?" J0 " , tnke « 0011 »<M«> pietty soon you 11 be mortgagin' for ready nioney again-an' then nofhiu' for t but to sUu-t takin' more livers in h lottery business'. An", hems'',", omedovv,, herebyme, an'l'll'tHiVo,, just what we're goin' to do. We're . gom' to enter into a regular oflic a agreement .for mutual ooadjuvancy a,' support.' J •' "" B||[uUial in the he j^r

henceforth you won't do any move givin' away without callin' me in as counsel. An' I'll have to go 'way »omewheres—up to Covington or Louisville—no use me trvin' to do anything around here—an' try the whirl of my lite at the law again.' '"Oh, my dear son!' she says. | "'Now. Aunt, you stop—you let mo i alone—l'll scream!'

I '"Oil, but I will. An'now that you've [ once made up your mind for it, I can si'e yon already jiwt.takin' your seat in the supreme court!'—an' then she 'alts. 'Oh, Charlie—lmt about that money—your half of it. 1 want to be right sure you're goin' to art hon'able about that?' "Which s'no' sticks 'him for a while. But 'Aunt,' he Gays, at last, 'l'll take five hundred to make my start with. An' you bank the rest along with you.'s. If i' wan't it I'll call on you. But I must let yon know right now that if I do so call, it'll be because I've broke our agreement like a low-down dog, an' backslidden once more.'

'•But he didn't backslide. Those yea ij, were the beginuin' of the South'igrowin' time. An' if at the first it was Charlie's droppin' the Bourbon an' cards that began to get him a practice,, it wasn't so long .till the size of his practice was licginnin' of itself to be the best certainty that he wouldn't get back to them. Vet never for more than two weeks did his practice crowd out his Sunday visits to Aunt B. "And as for Aunt 8., well, she stuck to her ipart of the agreement as closewell, sho', as close as could be expected. Of co'se. she couldn't tell Charlie everything. If she'd told him how Christmas had kctehod the Bixbys tltat year, it'd been nothiri' less than a breach of confidence. An' she couldn't tell him about the EastovL-r Townley s ucedin' help, nor all the baby clothes due to be called for liv Elizabeth Townley's twins. Tehektiiiiigs like that weren't for a man to know.

"And when, of a Sunday night, he'd go over to that little old red lacqtfT strong-box of hers, an' 'Kow, Aunt,' he'd say, ''we'll herewith devote a few minutes to' auditin' of the bankbook,' well, she could always show him that she -was keopin' a little ready money ahead, in case of emergencies, anyhow."