The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1884-02-08


a point lust over my head, while the
children give forth doleful walls at the
bare prospect.
These are days when suddenly de-
velop traits of character h -therto unsus-
pected. am petulant. saucy and de-
| fiant; then, without reason, chang
ing" become devout and serious, and
talk of fitting myself for missionary
work. This emboldens Mr.. Ashburton
to remark that there is fine field for
such LABOR in India; whereupon l am
frozen into silence. Father looks at me
in wondering sorrow; mother shakes
her head reprovingly, and Bobbett kind
ly makes the statement:
II never knew Barbie to act so like q
muff before; she's always been q first
rate kind of sister until this sum-
mer."
1 feel equal to any amount of sisterly
correction after this remark, for well ]
know it is owing to his matchmaking
proclivities, first melted by old Mrs.
Barton, that have been so i'll at ease
and out of tune this sweetest summer OF
my life.
1t Is wonder to me how women, who
have once appeared sensitive-natured,
pure-hearted girls themselves, can SC
far forget their girlhood lives as to drag
into the merciless glare of daylight, fol
everyday comment and criticism, those
unconfessed and half-formed plans fol
future love, home and happiness, that
are the sacred property of young girls
hearts. Many sweet love tune has
gone unsung and unheard because rude
hands have swept the young heart.
strings that would otherwise have vi.
brated in happy accord; smooth currents
of life that were meant to mingle have
been turned storm-lashed aud tempest
tossed into separate channels by the
| incautious meddling of an interested
| friend. Many q girl like myself is hun
cry for the love and joy that await her
taking. while her sensitive pride, easily
reused by q rough touch, or word, from
an outsider, will surround her with an
atmosphere through which love must be
strong indeed to send its rays of Light,
There comes day, however, in my OWE
golden-hearted September, when learn
to forgive Vic and Bobbett for all their
twisting and tangling of my destiny
threads: day when have humbly tc
acknowledge that owe all my future
happiness in life to them and theiI
matchmaking maneuvers.
1 am sitting in the meal-room of the
old deserted mill that stands guard over
a ripping stream in far-away corner
of the parsonage farm. The afternoon
sun streams in at the window, and 8
long golden path stretches across the
floor to my feet. l have pillowed my
head on my arms. rs | kneel by the low
window overlooking the brook, and am
sobbing, bitterly, uncontrolably. All
the sunshine has gone out of my life and
sorrow none the less that know ny
own foolish pride has shut the doors be.
tween me and all happiness.
The brook sings on under my win
dow, but its only refrain to my ears is
one of loss and sorrow. Early thai
morning had shattered the hopes of 3
whole family. and broken nv own
heart. all for the remembrance of those
silly words of Vic and Bobbett on the
day when Mr.. Ashburton first came tc
us. had not meant to do it, but an
extra bit of village gossip repeated by
Bobbett at the breakfast-table with great
gusto, had renewed all nv old sensi-
tiveness, so when Mr. Ashburton fol
lowed me into the grim old garden,
where 1 stood between the trim gladio-
lus-storks and the flaming marigold
beds, and in right manly fashion asked
the reason of my GOODNESS, where all
others were kind, and begged to know
if not trace OF love for him was min
gled with the pride he had in vain tried
to thrust aside, had been false to my.
self and him.
Now. the afternoon train, whose
signal whistle l shall soon strain my
ears to catch, will bear him far away
from me and the rest who love him, but
know | shall never have an opportu
nifty to tell him.
4 scuftie, q sound of scurrying feet
and Vic and Bobbett poke their curly
leads over the top stair; their dusty
tear-stained faces show the distress
which they have been suffering, but
huge slices of bread and butter declare
that grief has not touched their appe-
tites. Happy, careless childhood and
contented old age are easily solaced by
creature comforts. 1 vaguely wonder
how soon l. too. shall find myself COM
monplace and hungry, forgetting my
SORROWS in the humdrum of life that
stretches out before me, long, gray
waste of dreary years.
"Barbie" -begins Bobbett.
But 1 do not let the whole of those
chubby figures appear above the stair
case before l once again essay to ban.
ish them from my solitary retreat, and
say appealingly: .
please leave sister alone, children.
You're crying" says Vic, land I'm
going to cry, too
"Bet can.beat you BOTH" says Bob
bett; and a simultaneous wall sounds
from both the torments.
The. tableau promises to be effective.
"What are you crying for, any way,
Barbara" suddenly asks Bobbett, tax
ing breath for fresh howl.
my heart is broken" l sob. &c
away now, dears."
IF Mr.. Ashburton hadn gone away.
guess he could have mended it." wisely
suggests Bobbett. '.Come on, Vic"
And slipping, sliding, humping along.
they disappear down thecreaking stairs
and silence reigns in the old mill again.
Only for few minutes though An.
other sound of hurrying childish feet
falls on my ears, and in the midst firm.
light tread have learned to know.
have not time to rise from my knees,
hardly to lift my tear-stained face, wher
again some figures emerge from the
darkness of the stairway into the vel
low sunlight that now makes a COLDER
glory in the dim and dusty air of the
old meal-room.
.'Therer' says Bobbett, painting,
| lsSbn Ia hrcAEon ManG