Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1883-01-04
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VIOLA
Thrice Lost in a Struggle for a Name
BY MRS. n. 3. EDISON.

CHAPTER l.
Where Massachusetts, Bay sweeps to-
wards the Cape, intrenched in green
hills and golden sands, sleeps the good
old town of Plymouth, memorable, as
all the world knows. for being the land
ing place of the English Puritans more
than two centuries ago.
All this, being matter of history, we
pass by. and Introduce, without further
preamble, the Anderson family. have
never seen the genealogical records of
the Andersons. and am not sure of their
legitimate descent from the Puritan
stock. Be that as it may, they inherit
ed their stern v?ttue and uprightness of
life, whether it came by blood, or by
the more subtle influence which per-
msated the atmosphere where they
lived and died so nobly and purely.
Benjamin Anderson owned farm of
some sixty acres-very prolific in this
ties, sweet-fern and pitch pines. "By
the sweat of thy brow shalt thou earn
thy bread" admitted of the broadcast
and most literal Interpretation in his
case. He wrought patiently. early and
late, and thereby succeeded in wrench
ing comfortable living from the I'M
willing soil. The sea befriended him in
many ways. 1t drove away the frosts
that looked obviously on his unripened
fields; i. washed lavish quantities OF
kelp from its gray rocks to enrich the
soil, and furnished his table with an
abundance of dainty fishes. 1t was, be-
side, a continual inspiration. Rolling
in from far away misty skies, infinite
and illimitable as the thought of Heav-
en-, it sung forever of action, and prog
resS, and victory.
The farm house, facing toward the
sea, was backed by a long, low, undu-
lating hill, and this again by another,
more abrupt and pronounced, densely
set with great spreading pines, looking
like a vast emerald bowlder thrown up
against the pale sapphire of the skies.
Below were little riffs OF green valleys;
roads cleaning like pale gold in the
sun; shallow rush-bordered brook.
frightened by scarlet cardinals, and
perfumed with nleadowed mint; and be-
yond all. the glare and flash and sparkle
of the sea-
1t was lovely place-this pleasant
little farm in the south of Plymouth;
had it rot been. the Andersons would
have long since listened to the advice OF
Tom Arnold. Mrs. Anderson's brother,
and sold it. Tom had been in tie West
q dozen years or more. He had grown
rich there. and so was enthusiastic about
the country. 1t is often the case that
Eastern people who do not grow rich in
the West, are not particularly enthusi-
astic about it!
Ben Anderson had long since given
up the thought OF being rich man. if
he had ever cherished it, as he probably
had at some time in his life, as nearly
every one does. He had grown to be
content with what he had, and only now
and then letter from "brother Tom"
broke up the calm of his spirit AS long
as Myra was content he did not care
But Myra" was not exactly content,
though he did not know it. Toms
glowing descriptions had fallen into her
heart ike q spark of fire, which. as yet.
had only smouldered in darkness and
silence. She had woman's love for
pretty surroundings. The bare white
floor, which she secured thrice week,
was not quite satisfactory, notwithstand-
inc its sposless whiteness. She had a
yerv feminine weakness for soft carpets
and "stuffed furniture, and as Tom
wrote her about his, how elegant they
were. and how much he gave for them,
and so forth, her own half dozen
"cane seats" and her carpet manu-
featured by her own hands from strips
of cloth sewn together and woven into
a heterogeneous melange of all conceiv-
able colors, grew more and more unsat-
isfactory to her. She had vague idea
that 1.-The West" was sort of Alad-
din's Lamp, that transmitted poor peo-
pie into rich ones without the slightest
ceremony.
There was another thing that infiu-
enced her. Ralph was most fifteen, and
an only child-so much hope centers in
these only children. Ralph reminded
her of her brother Tom a dozen times q
day-fiery, daring, ambitious. chafing
against the narrowness and poverty that
hedged him in, as Tom had done. Tom
had gone West. Ralph declared his in
tention of going to sea. Thts was what
filled Myra Anderson's heart with fear
and dread. Years ago, when she was
little more than child, her fathers
vessel was. driven ashore on Manomet
rocks, and Captain, mate and crew, six
teen in all. were swallowed up in the
boiling surf. Long years of calm and
quiet had slipped between. but through
them all she saw forever one face, the
tangled in the dripping hair.
and about the neck where her arms had
twined so often and 50 fondly. If only
thew were West, Ralph would forget his
passion for the sea, she said, sitting
with Toms last letter in her hand.
dreaming some very bright dreams for
her bow.