The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1886-10-23

ME, ioyously. "And am | quite fine
enough, say, Nursie, dear? Will he say
he never saw me look as nice before?"
Gay, to be sure; that will he'll" replied
the old woman fervently. Though it'll
no be the ribbons he II mark. He'll say
as my Jem says when put on my smart
gown of Sunday: It's the face mind,
mother, and naugbt besides he says.
'Ye look as we'll in the Oldest gown ye
wears, mother he says
I'm afraid Jem is an arrant hatterer,"
laughed Annie. You've positively grown
conceited since you came to live with him.
You had much better staid on with us at
the house."
Nay, there's nothing as could keep
me from my Jem, now, Miss Annie DEAR"
answered the old woman soberly. "He's
the only one left me of all had, and my
heart is set on him. It's little 1 can do
for him now I'm old, and my sight is fail
ing, and I'm not that quick was on my
feet; but it's all in the way of nature, he
says. Them as sows in the spring shall
reap in the fall. and I'm to reap now,
whilst he's to work at the sowing. A
deal of trouble I've had in my day, but
no fingers touch will he let anear me in
my old age, he says. En-, but he's good
lad. May heaven grant ye son like
him, Miss Annie, when we've stepped
down out Of the springtime yerself."
Eyes, Jems very good" assented An
ME, carelessly. "Father says there is not
place anywhere around so we'll kept as
he keeps ours. Obi bark! Isn't that the
| train?"
She sprang to her feet, throwing back
her head and Listening eagerly, with bat
ed breath, raising an imperious little
hand to silence all other sounds. It
seemed as if, at this spoiled darling's bid
ding, the very birds stopped singing and
the leaves forbore their rustljng, all was
suddenly so still. Nurse Edwards listened
too, but less intently, and the chipping of
the cricket beneath the piazza ledge was
the only sound she caught.
"Hey, what noise he makes?" she
said, admiringly, as Annie turned back
with a gesture of disappointment. "If
it's them as is happiest sings loudest, yon
fellow has the best of us ALL
ooh! will it never be five o'clock?" cried
Annie, mindful only of her impotence.
"Tbis day has been hundred days long
already"
'Now don't ye be in a haste with
Time, my DEAR" said the old woman, re-
| provingly. "Ye'll not hurry it, though
ye fret it never so. We must just bide
the time, my Jem says, and all things'll
come in turn-frst life, then growth,
then death. Things is best taken natural
as they come. The rose that ye forcell
only be sooner done blowing"
"But l can't watt" the girl complained.
childishly. ~ always want things imme-
diately; and l want five o'clock this min
ute. What time can it be, Nurse? Oh,
do say it's five o'clock"
It'll be nigh upon it, sure, by the slant
of the shadows" the old woman answer
ed, peering out across the lawn. Eye
can look at the sun dial yonder, if ye
will"
Nonsense" rejoined Annie, contemp-
tuously. Gas if a stupid bit of wood and
rusty shadow kept any count of the
time the train goes by. I'll look at the
clock inside
''Then ye may spare yersel the trouble,
my dearie; for the hands stopped at five
minutes to seven this morning, exactly as
my Jem started out for the city; and five
minutes to seven it'll be till my Jem gets
home, which may be the night or the
morrow And I've been a thinking all
the day as [ sat here, how it's with me
and with verythiug about me just as it
is with the old clock inside. It's him
that keeps us going; and we're all run
down and stopped together when he's
gone, biding the time till he comes back
to right us"
"Then l wish he would come back now
and make it five o'clock" sighed Annie.
Surely it must be five o'clock, and the
train has come in without my hearing the
whistle. I'll run down to the gate and
wait there. Fred can't be long now.
Good by, Nursie. In five minutes more /
shall be the very happiest girl in all the
world"
And before she had finished speaking,
she was off, disdaining the road, and max
ing herself painless way across the
lawn; laughing, dancing, bounding along
with many light spring and airy leap
and merry twist like mountain brook
too impetuous to run smoothly. The old
nurse smiled indulgently, and, settling
herself back in her chair, went content
eddy on with her knitting, while the
cricket again became the uppermost
sound in her world, like a homely accom-
paniment to the single music of her
thoughts.
Many more minutes than five went by
uncounted, when, suddenly, from the direc.
ton of the gateway, Annie again came
running, but not as she had run before.
Very direct and straight she came. Her
arms we're outstretched as one who runs
blindly; her face, that had been so rosy,
was white as death and strangely set,
and she flung herself into the old wo-
mans arms with great sharp cry.
90 Nurse! o Nurse! The train is not
1