"Come and help me lift these out, will you, Nolla?" called Polly, as Eleanor stood waiting for something new to look at.

In another moment, both girls were hauling out the ma.s.s of pictures, whose wires and screw-eyes were so entangled that to get at one, you had to drag all out at the same time.

"My goodness! Just look at our hands!" exclaimed Eleanor, holding up such dirty hands that Polly laughed.

"The result of digging!" said she, managing to separate one smaller frame from the others.

As she turned it over to study the picture, she was greatly disappointed to find it had an old, cheap, stained frame. The picture seemed nondescript to her. It was a scene of an old bridge with fine old trees on both banks of the river. Quaintly costumed people strolled along both sides of the stream, and a funny tower rose at the further end of the bridge. The colors were crude and primary--no fine shading or artistic handling to be seen. A t.i.tle under the picture, and several inscriptions in French at the left side of the bottom, were so stained and blurred as to be totally unreadable with the naked eye.

Meantime, Eleanor had managed to free the next frame, which was a huge affair of old mahogany. The gla.s.s was so dreadfully dusty that not a bit of the picture underneath could be seen. She looked about for something to use as a duster, and saw an old end of chenille curtain on the walnut dresser. This she used and wiped away as much of the dirt as would come off with hard work--the rest must have hot water and soap.

"Well, I declare! Look at this old engraving!" called she to the others.

Polly was at hand, and saw that Eleanor had actually found a treasure.

Mrs. Fabian hurried across the room and took her magnifying gla.s.s from her handbag being always prepared with it in case of need to study signatures and other nearly effaced trade-marks.

The large engraving represented the Independence Hall at Philadelphia, and under that was the famous Declaration of Independence, with all the original signatures following. The picture of the Hall was engraved on a smaller bit of paper and had been mounted at the top of the printed matter. The engraving was signed by the engraver, and dated. Affidavits at the bottom of the parchment paper stated that this was one of the original doc.u.ments made by Order of Congress for use in the Government Buildings so that the first original paper and signatures could be preserved as a relic, by the United States.

"Why, this wonderful old paper is more than a hundred and thirty years old!" exclaimed Mrs. Fabian amazed.

"My goodness me! How much do you suppose I shall have to pay to get it?"

gasped Eleanor.

"I don't know, but you really ought to shake that dirty rag thoroughly over the gla.s.s again, to hide what is under it," advised Dodo, with astuteness.

The others laughed. But Polly had another suggestion to make. "Let's see what else we can find in this stack of pictures. We will choose a number of them and then make an offer on the lot, as much as to say we need bargain-frames for other uses. This rare find of Nolla's will be hidden in with the rest."

"Polly's idea is best. Because the old man will know that we wouldn't buy a picture with all the dust covering the gla.s.s," said Nancy Fabian.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A CRY FROM POLLY CAUGHT THEIR FULLEST ATTENTION.

Polly's Business Venture. Page 139]

"What's the little old one you've got in your hands, Polly?" now asked Mrs. Fabian.

"Oh, nothing much. It looks like an ugly little chromo printed before people knew how to use colors on printing-presses."

Mrs. Fabian leaned over Polly's shoulder to take a look, and puckered her forehead when she saw the yellowed paper and old stained edges of the picture.

"Polly, I verily believe that here you have something that Mr. Fabian has lectured on several times. Let me examine it."

While the girls crowded about her, Mrs. Fabian placed the picture, face downwards, on the table near by and tried to draw out the old headless tacks driven in to hold the backboard snugly in its place.

"Well, whoever framed this picture did it for all time!" exclaimed she, breaking several fingernails and tearing the skin on her hands in the attempt to loosen the fine steel nails.

"Here! I've found an old pair of broken scissors in this desk--let's use them to clinch the nails and force them out," said Nancy, handing her mother the shears.

With this a.s.sistance, Mrs. Fabian soon had the nails out and then carefully removed the old sections of thin boards. Under the boards was a yellowed newspaper, folded neatly, and so wedged in at the edges of the frame that no dust could work a way through to the picture. Without a thought of the paper, Mrs. Fabian took it out and expected to see the back of the picture. Instead, she found a yellow-stained letter written to Paul Revere Esq. and signed by one of the famous men of the Revolution. It was a personal letter of that time, and had been used to paste over a crack in the back of the picture.

"Why--why! How very wonderful!" breathed Mrs. Fabian, as she stared at the old letter.

"What is it--anything valuable?" asked the girls.

"A genuine letter written to Paul Revere! Now that I think of it, girls, Paul Revere lived in Morristown and his home is still intact on De Hart Street, I believe. This old picture must have come from his house; or in some way, this letter found its way into someone else's hands and was used at that time for sc.r.a.p paper to mend this picture. Now let's see what the picture is."

But a cry from Polly, who had picked up the old newspaper and now had opened it wide, caught their fullest attention.

"Oh, oh! Isn't this too funny for anything! Listen and I will read it."

Then Polly read aloud an advertis.e.m.e.nt in the tiny old newspaper, of a Squire at Baskingridge who wished to sell a healthy, young negro wench of unquestionable pedigree. Price and particulars would be given any interested buyer.

"Polly!" chorused her audience, in surprise. "That paper must be as old as the letter!"

"And see, girls!" added Mrs. Fabian. "It has great heavy black borders on the outside. What for, Polly?"

Polly turned over the sheet with utmost care, as it was so dry and brittle, and to the speechless astonishment of them all, it showed that the mourning bands were used for the death of George Washington. The entire front page was devoted to the news of his demise which had occurred the day before going to press. His fame, and value to the United States, were spoken of, and other features of his life were touched upon.

His picture, printed from an old wood-cut, headed the page. All the spelling was such as was common at that time with the letter "e" tacked on when possible and the old English "f's" were used for "s's" and long-stemmed "p's," and high-browed "a's" and "i's," were formed to show readers that the writer and editor was a well-educated man.

"Oh my! Must we fold it up and put it back of that board again?" sighed Polly, finally.

"If you want a bargain, that is what you'd better do," returned Mrs.

Fabian.

"Maybe the picture is as old as the paper," ventured Polly.

The thought of the picture had completely vanished from the mind of Mrs.

Fabian when she saw the rare old newspaper; but now she quickly picked up the article and turned it over. The magnifying gla.s.s was once more brought to bear upon the subject, and after several minutes of inspection,--minutes of impatient hesitation on the part of the girls,--she looked up bewildered with her discovery.

"Polly, this is really the missing picture that will complete the set that is on exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum, in New York. It is one of the famous color-prints made in France about the sixteenth century, and the subject is the famous Bridge at Avignon. This is worth thousands of dollars, dear, and I hesitate to tell you what to offer for it."

Polly would have taken the rare picture out to the still sleeping man and offered him a sum that would have made him sit up and investigate the matter for himself. But clever Dodo advised another method.

"If you offer more than the old frame is actually worth, when you say you will pay so much for the frames--he will see right off that there's a 'n.i.g.g.e.r in the woodpile.' Let's tangle up a few of these old black-walnut frames with the two valuable pictures, and I'll bargain for you."

"Better let Mrs. Fabian bargain--you know how she got the candle-sticks in exchange for a two-dollar 'bankit' lamp," Eleanor reminded them.

"I'll do it, while you girls keep on poking about as if to find other things," declared Mrs. Fabian. "Here, Polly, let us fix this frame up exactly as it was before, and I'll take four out of the pile and place them, one on top of the other, upon this dresser, and then call the man out to quote me a price on the lot."

This was carefully done, dust being shaken out of the old curtain so that the gla.s.s was again coated, and then dust was shaken over the back where the board had been removed and cleaned.

A dreadful lithograph showing a string of fish, framed in a wide gilt affair, was one that was chosen for the group. An oval frame with a woman's photograph in it, was another selected. Then the four were arranged: The large engraving at the bottom, the fish next, then the little old relic, and on top, the oval frame. All four appeared dirty and insignificant as they lay on the top of the dresser; and to finish the work, Polly used the chenille rag to gather up as much dust as possible from the filthy floor, and shook it vigorously over all the frames. Such a choking and coughing as ensued made them separate in haste, for fear the noise would make the auctioneer come out to enquire.

But he was too deeply concerned with some pleasant dream to awake to business, before his usual time for the afternoon siesta had ended, so Mrs. Fabian went out to rouse him.

"Eh, what did you say?" exclaimed he, jumping up.

"I want you to tell me how much are a few picture-frames which we found in a corner."

"Oh, anything you like. How much do you think they are wuth?" was his reply.

Mrs. Fabian smiled pleasantly. "That is not what I said. You are the salesman and I the buyer. You should state a price."