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Newspaper Page Text
THE OLD SHAWL
By Jessie Ethel Sherwin
"It will be a long good-by," spoke
old Mrs. Marsh sadly.
"Don't talk that way, Aunt Julia,"
remonstrated Hector Vaile, her fa
"No use of looking at things so
darkly," added her other nephew,
"The doctor says my only chance
of getting through the winter is to
go to a warmer climate," proceeded
Mrs. Marsh. "It won't be home and
that is why it won't do me any good.
Now then, boys, I want to have a se
rious talk with you. Both of you
have my love. You have been kind
and loyal to me, a childless old wid
ow. I expect my lawyer here within
an hour. I want you, here and now,
to decide as to my little property.
You know of what it consists the
old home here, the house in the city,
which my poor, foolish husband
made a hobby of, and found it hard
to live in on account of the expense."
The eyes of Willis glowed. A cer
tain eagerness came into them.
Hector only looked sorrowful. He
was not thinking of money or prop
erty. To him this dear old relative
had been as a mother. He would
miss her, even if her absence were
"Of course, all my ideas are to
make a record in the city," Willis
spoke first. "I have great ideas if I
can carry them out"
"Aunt, leave me the old home, if it
is neecssary to decide about your
property. I feel my place is here, in
my native village, and I can see that
Willis is more ambitious and gifted
than I." said Hector.
"Then that is settled," said Mrs.
Marsh, with a misty, approving look
at Hector. "And the shawl I have
been knitting for so many years goes
with the home and all there is in it.
Unless you marry some high-up belle
of fashion, Hector, your wife will be
glad to wrap it around her on cold
"We will leave the high-up belle of
fashion to Willis, Aunt Julia!"
laughed Hector. "In fact, I think he
has his eye on one such there al
ready." Willis looked embarrassed, then,
rather proud. He was of the flash
ing, buoyant sort, and he secretly
despised what he called the old-fashioned
humdrum ways of his cousin.
"I shall always keep the shawl as
a cherished memento, aunt," de-
Took Hector to the Front Door
clared Hector loyally, and so the
matter was settled. Mrs. Marsh had
spent most of her leisure time- knit
ting, and Hector thought tenderly of
the tired old fingers that had as
suaged ennui and pain through oc
cupation. Mrs. Marsh was right in her proph
ecy. She never saw the old home
again. Her legacies were easily ar
ranged and within the year Hector
found himself the legal owner of the