A Golden Wedding by Lucy M Montgomery

Books at their time by calming anxiety, a golden wedding by Lucy Montgomery.

The land dropped abruptly down from the gate and a thick, shrubby growth of young Apple orchard almost hit the little weather grey house from the road. This was why the young man who opened the sagging gate could not see that it was boarded up and did not cease his cheerful whistling until he had pressed through the crowding trees and found himself almost on the sunken stone doorstep over which in olden days honey suckle had been want to arch. Now only a few straggling, uncared for vines clung for lonely to the shingles and the windows were as he had been said all boarded up. The whistle died on the young man's lips and an expression of blank astonishment and his may settle down on his face.

Although perhaps it did not be token any pronounced mental gifts on the part of its owner. What can have happened? He said to himself, "Uncle Tom and aunt Sally can't be dead. I have seen their deaths in the paper if there was.

And I'd have thought if they moved away it would be printed too. They can't have been gone long. That flowerbed must have been made up last spring. And well this is a kind of setback for a fellow.

Here I've been trampling all the way from the station thinking how good it would be to see aunt Sally's sweet old face again and here Uncle Tom's laugh. And all I find is a boarded up house going to seed. Suppose I might as well toggle over to Stetson's and enquire if they haven't disappeared too. He went through the old furs back of the lock and across the field to a rather shabby house beyond.

A cheery faced woman answered his knock and looked at him in a puzzled fashion. "Have you forgot me, Mrs. Stetson? Don't you remember, lovelled Stephens and how you used to give him plum tarts when he'd bring you Turkey's home?" Mrs. Stetson caught both his hands in her hearty glass.

"I guess I haven't forgotten," she declared, "well well and your love will. I think I ought to know your face, though you've changed a lot. 15 years have made a big difference in you. Come right in.

Pa, this is lovell. You mind lovell, the boy aunt Sally and Uncle Tom had for years?" "Breakin' I do." Crawled Jonas Stetson with a friendly grin.

"Aint likely to get some of the capers you used to be cutting up. You filled out considerably. Where have you been for the last ten years?" "Aint Sally fretted a lot over you, thinking you was dead or gone to the bed."

Lovell's face clouded. "I know I ought to have written," he said repentantly, "but you know I'm a terrible poor scholar, and I do most anything than try to write a letter." "But where's Uncle Tom and Aunt Sally gone? Sure they ain't dead."

"No," said Jonas Stetson slowly. "No, but I guess they'd rather be. They're in the poor house." "The poor house, Aunt Sally, in the poor house exclaim, lovell?"

"Yes, it's a burning shame," declared Mrs Stetson. "Aint Sally's just breaking our heart from the disgrace of it. But it didn't seem as if it could be help. Uncle Tom got so crippled with rheumatism, he couldn't work.

And Aunt Sally was too frail to do anything. They hadn't any relations, and there was a mortgage on the house. There wasn't any when I went away." "No," they had to borrow money six years ago when Uncle Tom had his first bell of rheumatic fever.

This spring, it was clear that there was nothing for them but the poor house. They went three months ago, and terribly hard they both took it, especially Aunt Sally. I felt awful about it myself. Jonas and I would have took them in if we could, but we just couldn't.

We've nothing but Jonas wages, and we have eight children, and not a bit of spare room. I go over to see Aunt Sally as often as I can and take her some little thing, but I don't know, she wouldn't rather not see anybody, then see them in the poor house. Lovell weighed his hat in his hand, and frowned over it reflectively. Who owns the house now?

Peter townally, he held the mortgage, and the old furniture was sold to, and that most killed poor Aunt Sally. But do you know what? She's fretting over most of all. Me and Uncle Tom will have been married fifty years in a fortnight time, and Aunt Sally thinks it's awful to have to spend their golden wedding anniversary in the poor house.

She does talk about it all the time. You're not going, Laval, for Laval had risen. You must stop with us, since your old house is closed up. We'll scare you up a shake down to sleep on, and you're welcome as welcome.

I haven't forgotten the time you caught Mary Ellen, just as she was tumbling into the well. Thank you. "I'll stay to tea," said Laval, sitting down again. But I guess I'll make up my headquarters up at the station hotel, as long as I stay around here.

It's kind of well, more central. Go on pretty well out West A, query Jonah? Very well for a fellow who had nothing but his two hands depend on when he went out, said love-or-cortiously. I've only been a laboring man, of course, but I've saved up enough to start a little store when I go back.

That's why I came east for a trip now before I tied down to a business. I was hand-crowned to see Aunt Sally and Uncle Tom once more. I'll never forget how kind and good they was to me. Where I was, when Dad died, a little sinner of eleven, just heading for destruction.

They gave me a home, and all the schooling I've ever had, and all the love I ever got. It was Aunt Sally's teachings, made such a man of me as I am. I never forgot them, and I never tried to live up to them. After tea, Laval said that he thought he'd stroll up the road and pay Peter Townley a call.

Jonah Stetson and his wife looked at each other when he'd gone. He's got something in his eye, nodded Jonah. Him and Peter weren't never much of friends. Baby Aunt Sally's bread is coming back to her after all, said his wife.

People used to be hard on Laval, but I always liked him, and I'm real glad he's turned out so well. Laval came back to the Stetsons the next evening. In the interval, he had seen Aunt Sally and Uncle Tom, the meeting, been both glad and sad. Laval had also seen other people.

I bought Uncle Tom's old house from Peter Townley, he said quietly, and I want you folks to help me out with my plans. Uncle Tom and Aunt Sally ain't going to spend their golden wedding in the poor house, most are. They'll spend it in their own home with their old friends about them, but they're not to know anything about it until the very night. Do you suppose any of the old furniture we could get back?

I believe every stick of it could, said Mrs Stetson excitedly. Most of it was bought by folks living handy, and I don't believe one of them would refuse to sell it back. Uncle Tom's old chair is here to begin with. Aunt Sally gave me that herself.

She said she couldn't bear to have it sold. Mrs Isaac Applebee at the station bought the set of pink sprue china, and James Parker brought the crowned father's clock and a what-not ears at the Stanton Graze. For the next point night, Laval and Mrs Stetson did so much travelling around together, but Jonah said genially, he might as well be a bachelor as bar as meals and buttons went. They visited every house where a bit of Aunt Sally's belongings could have been found.

Very successfully they were, and at the end of their jaunting, the interior of the little house behind the Apple trees looked very much as it looked when Aunt Sally and Uncle Tom lived there. In a while, Mrs Stetson had been revolving a design in her mind, and one afternoon she did some canvassing on her own account. The next time she saw Laval she said, "We ain't gonna let you do it all. The women folks around here are going to do the furnish and the refreshments of the golden wedding, and the girls are going to decorate the house with golden rod."

The evening of the wedding anniversary came. Everybody in Blair was in on the plot, including the matron of the poor house. That night Aunt Sally watched the sunset over the hills through bitter tears. I never thought I'd be celebrating my golden wedding in the poor house, that she sobbed.

Uncle Tom put his twisted hand on her shaking old shoulder, but before he could utter any words of comfort, Laval Stephen stood before them. Just get your bonnet on Aunt Sally, he cried joe, and both of you come along with me. I got a buggy here for you, and you might as well say goodbye to this place, if you're not coming back to it anymore. "Laval?"

"Oh, what do you mean," said Aunt Sally, tremulously. "I'll explain what I mean as we drive along, hurry up, there are folks waiting." When they reached the little old house, it was all a glow with light. Aunt Sally gave a cry, as she entered it.

All her household goods were back in their places. There were some new ones too. For Lovall had supplied all that was lacking. The house was full of their old friends and neighbours, Mrs. Stetson welcomed them home again.

"Oh, Tom, whispered Aunt Sally, tears of happiness streaming down her old face. Oh, Tom, isn't God good?" They had a right royal celebration, and a supper such as the Blair Housewives could be choose. There were speeches and stongs and thales.

Lovall kept himself in the background and helped Mrs. Stetson cut cake in the pantry all the evening. But when the guests had gone, he went to Aunt Sally and Uncle Tom, who was sitting by the fire. "Here's a little golden wedding present for you," he said awkwardly, putting a purse into Aunt Sally's hand. "I reckon there's enough here to keep you from ever having to go to the poor house again, and if not, there'll be more where that came from when it's done."

There were 25 bright, $20 gold pieces in the purse. We can't take it, Lovall, protested Aunt Sally. You can't afford it. Don't you worry about that, loved, Lovall.

But West men don't think much of a little world like that. I owe you far more than can be paid in cash. You must take it. "I want to know there's a little home for me here, and two kind hearts in it no matter where I roam."

"God bless you, Lovall," said Uncle Tom Huskily. "You don't know what you've done for Sally and me." That night. When Lovall went to the little bedroom of the parlour, the Aunt Sally rejoicing in the fact that she was one of the mistress of a spare room would not hear of his going to the station hotel.

He gazed at his reflection in the guilt framed mirrors so many. "You've just got enough left to pay for your passage back Westover fellow," he said. And then it begins all over again from where you begun before. But Aunt Sally's face was worth it all, yes sir.

And you've got your two hands still and an old couple's prayers and blessing. Not such a bad capital, love, not such a bad capital.