Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1888-10-25

Howell. turning her smiling face upon
Miss Lydia.
81 never make calls, !" she answered,
stiffiy.
mo, not formal calis,n said Mrs.
Howell. "But we are neighbors, you
know, and 1 am very lonely here.
although it was my husbands birth
place II it were not for my little Jer-
ry," she continued. 81 should be very
desolate. My other boys are away all
day at work. long to put them in
school; but they have to help me, now
their father Is gone. The evenings,
though, are our happy times, when we
have little class in Latin, algebra and
history. l was governess. before I
was married, and try to turn my ex-
perience to account, for :their sakes. :"
Miss Lydia's call was very brief; but
before she left, both Jerry and his
mother had extracted from her a prom
Use to come again-and come she did,
to her own surprise. not once, but
often; and seldom empty-handed.
Sometimes it was bunch of the cher
ished flowers or red-cheeked apple;
and then, when the little frame grew
weaker, bowl of nourishing chicken
soup, or a dish of calves'-foot jelly.
But one beautiful morning, when the
woods over by the river were aflame
with the tints of the Indian summer
time, the little blue eyes closed forever,
to open in the sunshine of fairer
world, where people never have any
pains in their backs, and where there
isn't any suffering.
In the weary days that followed, it
was Miss Lydia's presence that most
comforted the sorrowing mother. Left
alone the long day through, the two
women grew to need each other,
and lean upon each other for
companionship. And then, too, when
Miss Lydia found that her possessions
remained unmolested, and when one
day Philip Howell brought home poor.
trembling little Hector, safe from the
clutches of the pound man, she was,
so to speak, forced to bury the Ratchet
and smoke the pipe of peace.
The uneventful days passed by,
when one afternoon at the post-office
she was handed a letter, that caused
her no little surprise. It seems she
owned a small farm, in an adjoining
township, left her by an aunt for whom
she was named. This she had rented
out. and thought little Of as long as
fhn IN vi P,,f
here was an urgent offer to purchase
it. The railroad wanted it for the site
of their new terminus, and offered
what seemed a perfectly fabulous sum
more than she had ever dreamed of
possessing.
She hurried home and read it over.
There it was in black and white, and
stamped with the company's seal. No
possible mistake.
What must she do? Accept, assur-
eddy! but then what could she want
with all that money. she solitary
woman, with enough for her simple
needs, and neither chick nor child to
call her own. Should she put it in
the bank, and leave it in her
will to a refuge for orphan
children or needy widows? Might
she not see the benefits of it in her
own lifetime?
HE told us to come back to his old
home, and may be somebody would be
kind to us for his sake" The child's
words fingered in her mind. Who
more reason to be kind than she?
Might she not in some way atone for
the bitterness she had once caused
trusting friend?
Why not-yes, why not educate those
two bright boys, and crafty their own
tie mother?
She knew a noble college in the
shadow of the foothills, days jour
ney from the town. Many youth had
gone from that commencement hall.
equipped for the battle of life and the
struggle for daily bread. The genial
president and her father had been
comrades in the old red school-house in
the New Hampshire hills, when tops
and marbles ruled the day.
The intimacy had not been kept up,
on account of time and distance; but
well she remembered visit paid with
her father in the cool, coy reception
room of the Presidents house, and the
hospitality pressed upon them by his
kind-faced wife. just the place to send
two promising boys.
Of course, if they went away to
school, their mother must come
and live with her. 1t would be
no small trial to have her privacy
broken in upon. even by so sweet a
woman as Mrs. Howell. but when the
Blakes saw their duty, they did it, and
never flinched.
She paced the floor until the moon
light threw long, slanting rays through
the narrow windows; she turned her
tea out of her spoon until it was cold;
the supperless cat came and rubbed
against her dress unheeded, and then
walked stifly out of the room, with
his back in an indignant arch.
She sat far into the night; but before
she went to rest, two letters in
cramped. old-fashioned hand were
dropped into the post-box on the
corner-one to the agents. accepting
their offer, and another to Prof. Ar
lington, asking for information re-
garding fees, entrance examinations,
etc.
And when his satisfactory reply and
the papers of the sale were in her
hands, she went over to the little
brown cottage. and awkwardly enough