A TRANSPLANTING. 



ALICE WINSTON. 



IT WAS the kitten who did it, though 

 no one knew but Martha. Aunt 

 Jenny thought it was the work of 

 Providence and Aunt Amy thought 

 it was the result of her own smiles and 

 caresses. Aunt Mary never thought 

 about it at all, of course. But really it 

 was the kitten. And what was this 

 thing that the kitten accomplished? 

 The taming of Martha. And why did 

 Martha need taming? Because she 

 came at twelve, a very barbarian, with 

 freckles and unmanageable hair, under 

 the dominion of three smooth-locked 

 ladies, who never had a freckle and. 

 whose hair had always been smooth. 



Perhaps it would be better to begin 

 at the beginning which was twenty 

 years before there was any kitten. 

 Most serene and happy wouldhavebeen 

 the lives of the three Miss Clarkes, if it 

 had not been for Arthur. Arthur was 

 their brother, and the combination of 

 prim, blonde girls and harum-scarum 

 black-eyed boy, made a most surprising 

 family. The son and heir was not 

 looked on as a success by his sisters 

 and the other staid and respectable cit 

 izens of Summerfield. He did not join 

 the church and he did not go to college, 

 he wedded no one of the many eligible 

 town's daughters, and, lastly, on his 

 father's death he did not settle down at 

 home, to take care of his property and 

 his sisters. 



This last of his misdeeds had made a 

 breach between himself and his sisters. 

 The more serious, because of the very 

 deep affection which lay at the bottom 

 of their half apologetic demeanor 

 toward their brother. The difference 

 between them was augmented by his re 

 moval to a far western town and his 

 marriage with one of the natives. For 

 the next twelve or thirteen years they 

 never saw him and heard of him but 

 seldom. Then he died suddenly, after 

 accomplishing his task of wasting all 

 his money. 



So it happened that Martha saw her 

 aunts for the first time on the day of her 



father's funeral, and her dim recollec 

 tion was of cold faces and mannerisms 

 which worried her mother. Martha 

 was the eldest of four and her mother 

 was one of the ornamental of earth, 

 andher father oneof the restless. So the 

 first eleven years of her existence was 

 wandering up and down through many 

 cities, attended with much care for her 

 slender shoulders, and an amount of 

 worldly experience such as forty years 

 of life had not given to the elder gen 

 eration. Then her father died and they 

 all went to share the spendthrift pov 

 erty of the home, whence her mother 

 drew her ideas of domestic economy. 



Through wifehood and widowhood, 

 to her deathbed, Mrs. Clarke clung to 

 an unreasoning hate of her sisters-in- 

 law, and a dread of the time when her 

 children must come into their hands 

 kept her struggling against death for 

 months. 



But just one month after her pitiful 

 fight was over, Martha started for Sum 

 merfield. 



Poor Martha! Never captive carried 

 to slavery felt such dread as did she on 

 her eastward journey. When the friend 

 who had borne her company left her 

 at a station near Summerfield, even the 

 stoicism of Martha gave way before the 

 horror of the unknown and she clung 

 to the last landmark of her old life, 

 with a sobbing eagerness, which even 

 a carefully nurtured child might know. 



But there was no trace of frail, hu 

 man grief in the little maiden who 

 lifted the sullen blackness of her big 

 eyes to Aunt Jenny's face that evening, 

 who received Aunt Mary's greeting 

 with a self-possessed composure alarm 

 ing to that shy and gentle lady, and 

 who gave the same degree of cold at 

 tention to Aunt Amy's sweet speeches. 



They had looked forward to the com 

 ing of Arthur's daughter with a strange 

 mixture of excitement, pleasure, and 

 dread. The dread was predominant 

 now. For this stern little woman was 

 not their flesh and blood, not the child 



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