Locked In A Closet

Atjnt Clackett had invited coropany to tea. Aunt Clackett lived all alone in a little gable-ended cottage, with Turkey-red curtains to all the Windows, a velvety mass of fine geraniums in the casements, and odd little three-cornered cupboards, with glass fronts, whose siielvcs werc piled with old china, curious specimens of jupanned ware and pieces of brocade and satin which belouged to a eenturygone by. Aunt Clackett was oae of these odd, orionnal old ladies who, liaving contrived to wreek their matrimonial bark early in life, aro coatinually steering off in all sorts of unexpected directions. 8he had espousel the cause of woman's independeuc with great vehemence, ioiued a debating club, and quarreled with the Vice-Presideiit at the second meeting. "A fic for woman s rights!" said Miss Claokett. "They've more rights thaii they know what to do with airead y." Then she devoted herself to philanthropy, turned her house into a miniature oqhan sylum, and went prowli'jo- rJjout Uio lanes and gutters in search oí proteges. But after she had been robbed twice she abandoned the whoio tiling and v,-ent for the natural scienoes. "Nature can't disappoint one, said Miss Claokett. Bat Nature did. The little fishes in her aouafium died, the stuffed animáis feü to pieoes, and the rare specimens of plante in her herbarium turned out to be poison ivy, and had nearly been the deatk cf her. 8 thea Miss Clackett took to literaturc. , "Shakespeare is eternally divme, said Miss Clackett. "And the creations of cne's own brain. are perpetuallynew." ... So that now she went aoout witö inky fingers, % portfolio under her arm, and a rimning dieiionary alwaysin reaeh, whiïe lier niece Dorothea didtae houeework. Or at least the arirl whom she callsü her nieee, for Dorothea Dodd was no actual reltókm to tl3 eccentric little old lady in tbe snuff-colored front and twinkii'nir Boectaoles. She was the last lüicriiTiag reik; of tire philanthropic &c-4ièöe, tUrk skianed, aolemn-eyed Ktt erphiuj, wbm Mias Cluckett liad ftMM t of a rag-ísid-bottle cellar owiere, ad ka4 hid in the outhouse aod refused to go wha the other orphauB wcre banished, en masse, to the i care of the public charities and corrections. " Please, ma'am, can't I stay? ' sail Dorothea. " I won't be no trouble, ana I'm a, n-ood 'un t-o work." "Bless my soul!'" said Miss Clackett. " Where have you been allthis while?" "Please, ma'am, in the shed," answered Dorothea, promptly. "Well, then, I supposeyou'llhave to stay," said Miss Clackett. And so Dorothea staycd. "Üorothea,," gaid Miss Clackett, on this particular afternocn, "is everything ready?" And the Dorothea who responded to hr summons was as unlike the weirdlooking little creatnre who had hid as was the crimson cinnamon rose at tlie window from the leafless stem which had tapped againfit the casement at the nide touch of the February blast. í'or Dorothea, like the rose, had blossomed out i fair, slight maiden, with a faint flor 011 her olive cheeks, very black aii, low on a sweet forehead, I aai tbe sof test and most appealing of ey, wliich were neither blact nor brcvra, but meltecl into the deepest wiie-lights at every emotion of her heirt. 'Everytfaing is ready, Aunt Clacket," said Dorothea. "Cold boiled taigue, lobster salad, buttermilk bisl mit" xreserved plums aad ourrant jelf "Yes, very nice, very nice!" saia 'Miss Clackett, absently. " VVhat do you think, Dorothea? Would you oall the heroine of my new story ' Dulalia' or ' Luoetta?' " " I don't know - Lucetta, I think," said Dorothea, assuniiug the air of a critic. " It is to be published in the Sun." said Miss Clackett, triumphantly. "I am to pay all expenses, and reserve the rio-ht of dramatization!" 'But I thought," said Dorothea, " that pcople made money out of sneh things. But you are ' spending' money, gunt." "Money!" repeated the old lady, loftily. "But who wants to make money? It is f ame that I sigh af ter. And-" "But you've got to change your dreaa and do your hairyet, aunt," sugrested Dorothea, gentlv. " Sol have- so I have!" said Aunt Clackett, " I do declare to you, child, I had nearly forgotten about the tea party. Let me see - whoni have we inVited?" "Your cousin, Mr. Folkstone, andhis wife," said Dorothea. " Oh, yes, I remember now. ' said Aunt Clackett. " Fanny Folkstone, who is always sending me jelly and embroklereil slippers, and writes me such loving letters evcry birthday. "And Mr. Mole, the clergyman. "Such a pious, delightful young man!" said Miss Clackett. "And the Misses Walker, who enjoy hearing tho portions of my new serial so much, and my cousin, ïheodore Teft, andold Mrs. Rapidan and Seringa Fole. Yes, yes, I rcniember now!" And Miss Clackett trottcd up stairs to put on her black silk dress and gold mosaieset, to do honor to the she had completely iorgotten. In the middle of her toilet, however, a literary idea oeoarred to her, and sitting down to eonimit it to paper, she lost all count oí time, until the hum of voices below warned her that her I guests had at last arrived. She then juniped up hastüy, wiped her pen and Üung the fooiscap sheets this way and that 41 1 must make haste," she sc.id. Hurrying down the stairs, she bethought lier of a certain littlo garnet clasp which she liked to wear, sowed on a velvet ribbon, across the parting of the snuff-colored "front" on her forehead. And squeezing herself into one of the odd Iittle octagon closets betweeu the parlor and the dining-room, she unluckily conlrived to lock herself in by some patent arrangement as complete as it w:is terrible. " That self-locking latch I had put on last week," said Miss Clackett to herself. "Oh, dear! oh, dear! Herelam, just exactly like the bride in the ' Mistletoc Ï5ough' sona:." She was about to cali to Uorothea to come and libérate her, when the sound of her own name, pronounced in the mild accents of Mr. Mole, the clergyman, arrested the words upon her lips. " Wh ere is our dear Miss Clackett?" demanded that honey-voiced divine. " Sho must have fallen into a fit of abstractum up stairs," said the eldest Miss Walker. " Tea is quite ready, said Dorothea. " I have rang the bell twice. Perhaps I had botter go up stairs and see what has becomo of her." " Do, my dear," said old Mrs. Kapidan, who spoke in a slow, comfortable way, " for l'm quite perishing for my tea Away tripped Dorothea. and presently she came back with something of a scared face. " I can't iind her anywhere,1' said she. " Tve called and called- and I've looked in every room, and she isn't there!" "Depend npon it," said Mr. Folkstone, smiting the table with his hand, " she's been and gone and done it at last!" "Done what?" said mild Mr. Mole. " Committed suicide," said Mr. Folkstone. "She always was three-quarters nind!" " Nonsense!" said Mrs. Rapidan, with a spice of quict matice in her voice. " It vvva on Ciirth but temper." " I'vc always Üiouglit shc ought t,o be patinan asylum," said the youngest Miss Walker. " And have an administrador appointed over her affaira," added Mr. Theodore Teft, abstractedly helping himself to a slice of cold boiled tongue and another oí York ham. Miss Clackett, who was not without a senss-of humor, chucklcd to herself as shc listcaed to their remarkably frce and uncomplimentaiy cxpressions of opinión. "V.'ell," saicl Mrs. Rapidan, " dead or alivc, I suppose we had better liave our toa!" "I thmk," viciously announced Miss Scriiin-aPolc, " that she's as mad as a Mafch hare! And I think her money shouM i' aaiaüil divided betwcen her relations." " So do I," said Mr. Folkstonc " And if shc has hanged or drowned herseli " It's all those horrid literary habita of hers," said Mr. Mole, with his mouth full of lobster salad. " Enongh to imdermine the strongest persou's equilibrium!" "I kncw it all along," said Mrs. Folkstone. " I could see she was losing her mind - what little there was of it To lose- poor, silly old woman!" " Perhaps it might be as well to look wound the pi-emises a little, after supper!" said Mr. Mote, with a hungry ■lance in the direetiouof thecoldmeat. -And if vou will be good enough to pour out the tea - " " Iworit!" said Dorothea, with blazin"1 cheks and a stamp of her little foot. "Eh?" saidMr. Teft. " What?" ejaculated old Mr?. Eapidan. "Go out of the house, every one of you," cried Dorothea. "ïo dare to 'talk so of Mint, who is so good and gcnerous! To sit quietly down to eating and drinking when she is not here! TÍ cali her a lunatic - a - a - ' ' " Young woman," said Mr. Mole, " you are' taking too much upon yourself." "I should think so," said Mrs. Folkstone, "fora pauper foundling pickeu out of the workhouse!" " Woll, I oever!" cried the Misses Walker in choi-us. ' Leave the house, I say," reiterated Dorothea. "lt is Aunt Clackett's house. You have no business to sit here and talk so about her!" "Aunl Claokett, indeed!" said Seringa Pole. "As if she were any relation of yours, miss! I, for one, shall say what I picase about her. She is a crazy old lunatic, and - " But just here was the sound of a vio-orous pair of knuckles on the door whicli oonnects the parlor closet with the dininff-room. ' What's that?" said Mr. Mole, startina; up in alarm. "Aghost!" said Miss Walker, nervously. "Bats!" said Mr. Folkstone. " No, it isn't, said Miss Clackett, " it is I! Locked in hero by mistake. Dorothea, you will find tho patent key on the parlor mantel-shelf. Be so good as to eet it and let me out." And the next moment Miss Clackett walked smilingly out intotheastonished band of her relations and friends, took the head of the table, and began to pourout the tea. "A- hem!" eoughed Mr. Mole. "■Ve were really beginning to be quite alarmed about you," said Mrs. Folkstone, moving uncomfortably in her chair. . " So I should think," said Miss Claekett. cheerily. But shc was as pleasant and cordial as ever, and when her guests took leave they really did not seem to know whether they had been overheard or not. Aiter they were gonc, howcver, Miss Clackett lie'ld out her hand to Dorothea. " Come here and kiss me, my dear, said she. "I seo that I have one friend 'leftin the world, atleast." And she made her wiU next (ïay in favor of Dorothea Dodd. " Not that I mean to dio at present-, saidshe: "but it's always well tobe prepared for any emergency. And she never invited that particular party of guests to toa again as long aa she lived. Total expendieres on the grea East-River bridge have been $10 SW, 570, and at the last meeting of the Trustees President H. C. Murphy said that if there was no delay m gettin the neeowary money the klge wouM be complete in eóghti?en montlis, tor an addititmal $1,700,000.