"an Old Nuisance."

Mind, I quote those three words. They are none of mine. Only, thinking over three or four equally appropriate titles, I chose the one I use as being the oddest; and I always had a faney for odd things. And now for my story. On what my aunt (by marnage) and her family founded their claims to aristocracy I never could discover. My uncle had been a merchant, it is true, and one of considerable prominence in his day, I have been told, and so had been his father before him, and his father's father before thut. That his business in his most prosperous time was intimately connected with China is impressed upon my mind (I became an iiimate of his house when I was about six years of age, in consequence of the death of both my parents within a week of each other, leaving me with nn rtiftans of suDDort. and no other ative) by the fact that every flrsi of June saw bright new mattiugs laid on our floors, to reinain there until cold weather came again, and that our mantels and what-nots were decorated with many pretty, dainty little porcelain cups, thin as egg-shells- rarities in those days, but in these plenty and cheap enough. Now, aceording to all I have learned on the subject, real Simón Pure aristocrats look down upon trade even on the grandest scale.and never have au ything to do with it iiuther than once in a while marrying one oi its sons or daughters who have come into posseasions enough to offset the honor. Ho wever, our í'amily (L venture to include myself, none of nay cousins being within hearing) assumed all the airs of the "blue bloods" of the old country. Eleanor, our second, wore a look of deep indignation for several days after a manly, elever, good-looking fellow, the brother of one of her old schoolmates, with a comfortable income, but who was junior partner of a ftrm keeping a retail store on Sixth Avenue, proposed for her hand. 'The presumption of the man!' she exclaimed, raising lier arched eyebrows in astonishment, and curling her full red upper lip in scorn; 'to imagine for a moment that because I honored him witli my company to the opera two or three times, L would marry him! lf nis business had been Wholesale, it would have been bad enough; but fancy I a person who sells pins and needies by the paper, and lace by the yard! Kever! I would die flrst!' Minerva, our fourth, was equally horror-stricken at the eiïrontery of a young book keeper whom her brother Laurence had introduced iiuo the family circle - a rare tliing for one of her brothers to do, for, like all other men, as far as my limited experience goes, i they scarcely ever thought their companions to be good enough to be the companions of their sisters- when he ventured to express his admiration for her. The young man soon after succeeded to a very handsome property, and became a great swell- "a perfect too-too," as I believe the faslronable way of expressing it now is- a kind of being after Minerva's own heart; but she was never invited to ride behind his fast horses. and what was much worse, never again asked to take the head oL his table. And in like manner the graceful and enthusiastic professor of music, the I stout, good-natured proprietor of the extensive iron-works ('Wholesale and I retail') on the next block, the young artist, who has since risen to wealth and fame, and sundry others, all f alling short of the aristocratie standard set i up by our family, were gnubbed by my lady cousins, aided by their brotliers, and not wholly uaagsisted by their l jnother. I never had had, at the time his story commences, being then in my eighteenth year, a chance to snub any one; for, lacking the personal atracl-ions of my relatives. as well as ;heir 'high-toned' natures - truth to ,ell, having decided democratie tendencies-l was kept in the background on all occasions. Let it be remarked in passing that Eleanor eventually married, when nither a eld girl, a widower in the milk business- very wholesale, however the father of four chiltlren. At the same time Minerva, a few years younger, deigned to become the wife of aa elderly bachelor, something or other in a shoe manufactory. Uut they held their heads as high as ever, and declarei they had sacriticed themselves for the family, unele having failed for the second time- turough no fault of his own, dear old man - a few months before the doublé weddiag. That their 'sacrifice' was for the good of the family I don't deny; but ,here still were lef t at home to be taken care of after their cieparture tliree old maids, a young one, and two helpless young men, who, having been brouglit up to do nothing, did it to perfection. After the failure, únele got a situation as superintendent of one of the mauy departments in the large establishment of the gentleman who sold 'pins and needies by the paper, and lace by the yard' (he was now head of the firm, and had a pretty, lady-like wife and two pretty children), and we dismissed one of our servants, and moved iüto a smaller house. But in spite of all our efïorts at economy our income proved vastly inadequate to our expenses, and this was the cause of so much bevrailing andbemoaning that our house seemed to be bereft of all gladness and sunshine. And one evening after Ethel, our youngest daughter tiad burst into tears because aunt had declared it would be impossible to have ice-cream, meringue3, wine jellies, and similar dainties every day for dessert, for tLg two sufflcient reasons that we could't aflord them and our present cook could't make them, I ventured to suggest to the weeping d imsel that if slie found life positively unbearable without the above-mentioned luxuries (all the Egberts, by-thebye, were extravagantly fond of good Uiings to eat,) she might knit and crochet some of the worsted articles she was in the habit of making so artistically for herself, and sell them to - Mr. Lee, uncle's employer, I was about to say, when I was interrupted by a shrill shriek. 'Work for a store!' she cried. 'I'd starve flrst.' 'You wretched girll' addedmy. aunt. 'How dare you even think of such a thing? Ethel, my darling, calm self.' 'It is not enough that strangers should presume upon our poverty,' joined in Cleanthe, also frowning upon me, 'but one bound to us by ties of blood, though it must be confessed more alien than many a stranger would be, must advance ideas that shock and wound us. Imagine '- turning to her brother lioland, who lay on the only lounge in the room, complacently regardinghimself in the mirror on the opposite wall - 'that impertinent Mrs. Bradshaw coming here this ing, witli the air of doing a kindness, too, to offer me a position in her academy!' ireat heavens!' exclaimed lloland, spmging to his feet - and the cause must be a mighty one that brings llolaud to bis feet. 'One of my sisters a teacher! Great Heavens!' and he went stamping about the room in the new suit of clothes aunt had just paid for by parting witu her handsome pearl ring. 'Whatever is done, we can do nothíds;,' sobbed EUiel. 'Of course not,' replied Roland, grandly; 'the womeu of our family never work.' I tliought to myself, 'Nor the men neither. except poor old uncle, who is fagging íit a desk lrom morning until n i glit. 'But our income must be increased,' said Alethea, looking up from her novel, and joining in the qpnversation for the first tiuie. Alethea was our eldest, and still wore lier hair in the fashion of her youth, a loóse curl dangling over each cheek-bone, being mlly persuaded that no other fashion was half so graceful or becoining. 'Discharge the chamber-maid, pro posed Ethel, 'and let Dorothea' (I ma Dorothea) 'do her work. It is about all she is lit for. She never had a bit of fine feeling or style about her.' "No, she never had; she always would bite her bread,' sighed my aunt, 'and she has seemed sadly out of place among my children. Slie comes of a woiking race, and her ideas and tastes all sinack of trade- trade- trade.' I discovered in after yoars that my aunt's grandmother on the maternal side made a fortune out of tobáceo. 'But discharging the chamber-maid won't help very much," said Althea. 'It wül not.' afreed Roland. 'What is saved thereby svill do moro than íind me in the little extras no society man can do without.' D ar! dear!' aunttook uptheburden again, 'could I have forseen that your fatlier would have come down in this way, I never would have married him. I really don't know what is to be áone, unless we eimgrate to some couiury place where we are unknown, and where it don't matter how we live.' 'The country!' screamed her children in chorus. 'Better death at once.' I can't imagine where I got the courage to do so after my late sharp rebuiïs, but at this moment I blurted out something that had been in my mind for several weeks: 'Why could not Alethea and Ethel room together, and Alethea's room, which is the I pleasantest in the house, be let to a lodger? - one who would - ' But here I paused abruptly. Alethea had fainted in the arms of my aunt, who, glancing at me over the top oi her eldest dauehter's head, commanded me in her deepest tone (aunt has rather a bass voice) to 'leave the room - instantly.' But in a short time, during which things had been getting worse and worse, and we had been reduced to rice puddings for dessert on week days anc apple tarts on Sundays, I was allowec to prepare an advertisement for th morning's paper, in which was offeret to 'an elderly gentleman, who must hav excellent reference, a fine room in th house of a family of reünement, wh I had never before taken a lodger, fo the privilege of occupying which he would be expected to pay a liberal equivalent." I disapproved highly of the wording of this rail forhelp, but my aunt and cousins insisted upon its beingcouched in these very terms, and so I was compelled to yield, inwardly convinced that it would bring no reply. But it did. The very afternoon ot the morning it appeared, a carriage with a trunk strapped on behind drove up to our door. An old gentleman got out, hobbled up our steps, and rang our aoor-bell. 'You must see him, Dorotkea,' Raid my aunt, leaving the parlor, foUowed by a train of her children. 'It is your affair altogether. I will have nothing to do with it.' We none of us will have anything to do with it,' chimed in my camina. ' We were not boni with the souls of lodging-house keepers;' and away they sailed as I opened the door to the second - a little louder than the flrst - ring of the caller. IIh was a short, slightly formed old gentleman, with big bright black eyes, bushy white eyebrows, and a long white mustache and beard. 'You have a room to let?' he asked. 'I have,' I answered, ushering him into the parlor, where he glancedkeenly around, and then as keenly into my face, while he announced in a decisive tone: 'I have come to take it. My luggage is at the door. Be so kind as to teil me where to direct the man to carry it.' 'But' - I began, in a hesitating way, utterly confused by the stranger's brusque, not to say high-handed, manner. 'But mo no buts,' quoted the old gentleman. 'I am Amos Griffin, lately from England, where I have been living for the last twenty years. Since I landed in New York, a month ago today, I have been boarding at the St. Nicholas. But where's your mother ?' _ I hastened to assure him that I was' empowered to negotiate with him. 'Ah, indeed! Well then 111 go on, though it strikes me that you are rather young for the business. You 'have never taken a lodger before.' I am glad of it, for reasons which it is not necessaiy to explain. You want a 'liberal equivalent' for j our fine room; I am prepared to give it. That lea ves only one thing to be arranged. I shonld like my breakfast at eight precisely, every morning.' But we did not propose to give breakfast.' 'I know you didn't; but 111 give you another 'liberal equivalent' for it. You can't be very well off, or you wouldn't take a lodger; and the more liberal equivalents you can get l'rom him, the better. "VVill you be kind enough to show me to my ro' m ?' Yes, sir,' I replied, meekly, completely succumbing to the big black eyes, and strong will-power of the frail-looking old man, and totally forgetting to ask for the 'references' insisted upon in the advertisement. Whereupon he stepped to the front door, and beckoned to the man outside, who, taking the trnnk upon his back, iollowed him, as he followed me. to the second story front room. 'Ah,' said our lodger, as he entered it, 'this is not bad - not at all bad.' And it wasn't. As I have said before, it was the pleasantest room in the house, and I nad arranged it as prettily as I could with the means at my command. Fortunately these included a number of nice engravings and vases, and a capacious bamboo chair with a rimson cushion, and a f ootstool ot nke olor. And the fragrance of thehoneyuckles that stole in at the window 'rom the balcony, and the two or three unbeams that had found their way through the half-closed blinds, and danced in triumph on the wall, and the half-dozen gayly bound books (mine) on the mantel, and the ivy growing from a red pot on the bracket in the corner, all coinbined to make the room a pleasant place indeed. Mr. Grittin had been our lodger exaclly two years, during which I had prepared and superintended the serving of his breakfasts, and taken entire charge of his room, aa well as though i had been brought up to that soit of tliing,' as my cousin Cleanthe remarked, and the rest of the family, with the exception of únele, who became quite friendly with hiin, had only met him same dozen times - at w Jich times they assumed their most dignified dignity - when he was taken sick. 'It's an old complaint, which will caray me off sometime,' said he to me 'but I hope not this time. Anyhovv Little Honesty' (a name he had given me from the tirst- I hope I deserved it) 'Uve or die, T intend to remain heve. Nowhere elso could I be as ble. You must engage an extra servant, and you and she together must nurse me. I should certainly die of a professional. By-tue-bye, who is your fatnily physician?' I told hiin. 'If I am not better, seud for him tomorrow. I am going out now - only a few steps,' meeting my look of surprise. 'I want to see my lawyer, and I sha'u't. take to my bed for several days yet.' ïluit afternoon, taking care not to repe it the old gentleman's exact words. but putting his remarks in the form of h request to be allowed to remain, I stated the case to the family. 'Going to be ill ?' exclaimed Aletha. 'Dear mei how disagreeable!' 'I'm sure I don't want hiin to stay; e might die here,' said my aunt, who íad the utmost horror of death. 'Ile's an oíd nuisance, anyhow,' prolaiined Ethel, 'and always has been. nd I blush that any relative of mine hould have degraded herself so far as o become liis servant-maid.' Here I will mention that my cousin Iloland, a montli or so before this, liad married a young lady with a large fortune, and out of this fortune he generously proposed to make the family a ] liberal yearly allowance, besides which carne many gifts from the married sisters, whose husbands had prospered, and thereupon been obliged by their wives to share their prosperity witli us, that we might live at least, as Minerva expressed it, 'with elegant economy.' And so we were not entirely dependent upon our lodger for desserts and several other things. But to go back. 'He is not an old nuisance,' said I, indignantly. 'He is a kind-heaited old man, and I'm very fond of bim.' Good gracious!' 'Yes, Miss Ethel,' I went on, 'I repeat it, X am very fond of hini. And if my aunt will allow me - I am sure my únele will - I will take all the extra care resulting from hissickness up(m myself, and no one else shall be annoyed in the least. After living beneath our roof for two years, and conkributing so bountifully to oUr comforts- you needn't glare at me, Cleanthe; he has, for I am quite certain no one else would have paid us so liberallv - it would be the basest ingratitude, not to say cruelty, to send him among strangers now that he most needs care and kindness.' 'Are you quite through, Miss Reynolds?' asked my aunt sarcastically. I had no idea you were so eloquent, never having heard you preach before. But of one thing I atudetennined: you shall not cali in our doctor to your patiënt. He is a perfect aristocrat, and lias no idea we keep a lodger, and I do not wish him to know it.' 'There's a young saw-bones a few doors below,' drawled my youngest gentleman cousin, who resented my waiting upon any one but himself; 'he'll do for your fine old - nuisance.' ïhat very evening Mr. Griflin had a bad turn, "and I sent for the young "saw-bones a few doors below" in great haste. He proved to be a Dr. Rice, a frank-looking, brown-haired, gray-eyed, broad-browed young man, with gentle voice and quick, light step. And the old gentleman takmg a great faney to him, decided on retainmg liim - a decisión that relived me greatly, bearing in mind as I did my aunt's embargo in regard to our farnily physician. And f rom that timeforthreemontlis, although very seldom conflned to his bed, our lodger never had a well day. At the end of three months, however, he began to mend slowly, and at the end of two more was on his feet again. And then he told me he had made up his mind to return to England. 'I ara sorry, very sorry to part with you,' I replied, '13 ut it is right that you should go.' 'Well said, Little Honesty. And now let's begin to pack,' said he. Dr. Rice and I went witli the old gentleman to the steamer that was to carry him away, and waved a last farewell to him - in the midst of a crowd also waving last farewells - from the pier, as the vessel slowly moved out into the stream; and then we returned to our respective homes to read the letters he had placed in our respective hands with his final good-by. Mine I read in the privacy of my own room at first; and when I had paitly recovered from my astonishment and delight, I flew down stairs, called the family together, and read it to them. It was as foliows: 'Deak Little Honestt, - Had I died- which I didn't.thanks under God to you and Dr. Hice - I should have lef t each of my dear young friends ten thousand dollars in my will. But having lived, I am going to do a much pleasantei thing - I am going to give them the ten thousand at once. My lawyer will see you both to-morrow. Asios Griffn. p, s. - i have also left a slight bequest to Miss Ethel Egbert. She will find it on the lower shelf of the closet in the room I occupied when I was her cousin Dorothea's lodger.' Ethel for onco forgot her gracelui, gliding step. She started hastily tor Lhe stairs.but lier youngest brother was before her, and she was fain to turn back again as he slid down the baluster, and landed in our midst with something in his arms. J.t was a large framed pliotograph of Amos Griffin, with a card attached bearing these words, "An excellent picture ot' 'An old Nuiaance.' ' I married Dr. Kice.