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THE OLD FURNITURE
By Ernest Thwing.
(Copyright by W. G. Chapman.)
When Grandma Turnbull got the
collecting mania in her old age, no
body thought very- much about it.
But when she brought liome a photo
graph of Washington crossing the
Delaware, taken by a snapshotter in
the Continental army, for which she
had paid a hundred dollars, I felt that
it was time to discourage her foolish
ness. Grandma's capital could not
have amounted to more than ten
m&H -Z 1
To My Mind They Were Just Tables.
thousand dollars and here was one
per cent of it gone for an outrageous
I talked it over with Dorothy. Dor
othy was Grandma TurnbuU's grand
daughter, and we were as good as
engaged. I had asked her ever so
many times, but she had been holding
off and trying to make me jealous by
flirting with Jim Bates, a sort of sec
ond cousin of chirrs, but belonging to
the poorer branch and generally
! looked down upon among us Len
nards. "Poor old thing! DoVt say any
thing to hurt her feelings, Harry,"
"But, Dorothy, don't you see?" I
urged. "She's buying up old furniture
wholesale, and every crook in the
county is bringing her so-called an
tiques. She must have spent five hun
dred in the last month or two. If
that goes on, what will become of her
"Well, it's her capital, isn't it?"
"Yes, but some day it will be yours
and mine," I answered. "And I'd
rather have what's left of the ten
thousand or so than own a lot of
Dorothy gave me a queer sort of
look, but I went on: ,
"The fact is, Dorothy, grandma is
getting senile. This collecting mania
is one of the first signs. Now I'd like
to move for a guardianship over her.
Why not? Surely you don't sympa
thize with her, do you?"
"Harry," said Dorothy, "grandma
put you through college when your
father was bankrupt and started you
in business. That's where most of
her money has gone. If you have no
more gratitude than that you needn't
speak to me any more." And she
flounced out of the room.
It's queer how women thinks Here
was I, bent only on securing to Dor
othy and myself our rightful inherit
ance of grandma's money, and she
was up in the air.
Things ran on as usual for a while,
and then the crisis came. It came
from Boston, imthe shape of a deliv
ery man carrying two tables, for
which grandma had paid a, thousand
"They are real Louis Quatorze,
Harry, and the only specimens re
maining from the workshop of Mon
sieur Genappe," said Grandma, beam
ingupon me and upon them.
As soon as they had been unpack
ed and placed in grandma's recept&s