The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1888-08-03
DARBY AND JOAN.

a spring rain was falling gently, con-
tinUously, on Mrs. True's garden. The
lately transplanted geraniums and pc
tunias lifted their heads gratefully 20 the
warm shower, and the fuchsias and sweet
alyssum frightened under its influence.
III their mistress could have seen them.
she, too, would have rejoiced. for the
flowers were her children, petted darlings,
for whom no care could be too great, no
attention too painstaking. She had
housed them in winter, set them out in
summer, trimmed guarded, hung over
over them year after year
lnvoluntarily one looked for her mild
face at the window, smiling out upon
them, but she was not to be seen. For
the second time only in her life Mrs True
lay in her chamber, too III TO heed the
pattering rain, or to think of the plants
growing so fast in the sweet, moist air,
even though, through the open window
of her room, both sounds and scents en-
tered freely, the peaceful sounds and
healthful scents of the country.
1t was very still in the room where she
lay; very still and orderly. The old fur
niture was polished and speckless; the
linen as white as snow; against the pill
lows, which had been part of her bridal
outfit, rested the gray head, still neatly
cared for, and the face, with its pallor,
still wore a look Of kindly impatience
At her side sat her husband, good
Deacon Tr1e, with bowed head and sad
eyes; and in his work-hardened hand be
held her feeble one.
Presently a footstep sounded on the
muddy sidewalk outside. Then the gate
latch clicked. Someone walked up the
path and tapped softly on the house door,
and was softly admitted.
But the two, with their faces turned
toward each other, took no notice.
"how Is she?" said the neighbor down
stairs who had dropped in"
''Failin'," answered Fidelia Perkins,
the maid OF all work, temporarily en-
gagged FOR the emergency.
'How's hes"
Fairly beat out with grievin' Seems's
IL he hadn't no heart for eatin' or drinkin'
or nothin'. just settin' up there along %
her, and holdin' her hand. 1 never did
see folks set sech store by each other as
they do"
'Well, they haven't nobody else to set
store by, you see" said the visitor, estab-
fishing herself by the fire, and holding
out two substantial feet to the blaze.
''No, that's So" assented Fidelia, tax
ing out her knitting. Now yOu Just
make yourself comfortable, Mis- Clap.
Pm real glad TO see somebody. It's
dreadful lonesome here. Jest those two
still critters upstairs and me and the cat
dowusta airs, and nothin' on earth TO 90.
Why, there amt so much as a teaspoon
full Of dirt to clean up nowhere in the
house. l never did see such house
keepin'."
''She was n master hand for cleanin',"
said Mrs. ClaPp, shaking her head
thoushtfully, "and as / say, there warn't
no children TO make dirt -
NO, there warn't, but them plants is
about as bad, to my thinkin,' cluttering
up the place half the year, and havin' TO
trail around with Il waterin' pot and
weedin' and stewin' over 'em the rest Of
the time. She took a sight Of comfort in
'em, though"
''She was real good woman, Mis- True
was" sighed Mrs. Clapp, speaking a.
ready in the past tense.
"And he's powerful good man"
There amt no better"
"Queersec good folks hadn't a family"
"Wen, they did have one child"
"Do telly / never heard Of it before.
Boy or Girl?'
"Boy, l believe; law, Mis- True was
most tiekled 10 death about IT. She was
AS proud az an old hen with one chick,
bat II didn't last long. ! was sent for TO
nurse ner, and she was a dreadful sick
woman. out of her head, just ravinC about
that baby: Coin' on about what she was
meaning to do for il.
'.She had it all planned ont for life
time how she was a-goin' 10 rock him 10
sleep nights, and how, by and 10y, he was
aCoiu' TO set TO the table in a high chair
alongside Of her, and, finally. how he was
TO take the farm and live with them al
ways. Ny she was ram5liu' on so fast
and a smiling away to herself. while the
rest of us-me and the doctor and the
deacon-was Jest a-fightin' for that baby's
life. And ~ last, when she come 20 her
SELF there warn't uothin' but 4 dead baby
10 shew her"
Dear, dear! did she take on muchs''
said Fidelia, dropping her knitting IN her
lap.
Take on? Well, not like some folks.
She didn't screech nor cry; but she Jest
turned awful white, aud her eyes got big
and bad lookin'; It was enough to ha'nt
You TO sac 'en, and she never said nothin'
to me: jest moaued, and caught ahoid OF
the deacon coat sleeve - il she needed
sonethiu' TO comfort her. 1t did seem :
II her heart was broke sure. She never
had no more children"
II guess that's why they've been so set
on each other" unused Fidelia.
" Glls d. 10 AAle+A- AAE4E si4A4 4 ilt NN4lAAa
Some few folks are so-considerate and
feelin'-but mighty few. Most married
folk get tired Of livin' together, or, al any
rate, they appear so, to home The deacon
and Mis- True they's been ike they was
a'courtin' all these years. He's done all
| the chores for her that a mortal man
! could DO, and she's been as sweet TO him
well, As sweetas one ofthem doves a-cooin
| away ont there on the barn"
"Hark! What's that!" said Fidelia
| huldinS up one hand, warningly.
/ II was only the sound of weak voice
above, and a deeper voice trying to an
/ sVver SCOT hingly-
While the two women had talked the
afternoon had waned. The rain seemed
! ike fast falling tears. The flowers, some
of them, were closing drowsily. The
shadows were deepening. The light
green foliage of a birch tree near the
house looked gray in the twilight
/ Through the open chamber window
above sounded the sleepy trill Of bird
safely snuggled in his nest under IN,
/ young leaves.
| Curiously enough this tender not,
alone had the power 10 rouse the dyin2
woman. She had always been in clos,
sympathy with all fair helpless things
! flowers, young birds and infants. Now
in her extremity, this weak cry pierced I,
her heart and woke her.
Where's the babys' she whispered
'Why don't they bring the baby 10 mes'
She was living over gain her only sick
| ness. She fsncicd herself young one
more, young aud filed with a strang
great happiness
The years between had vanished. The,
were happy years, too, happier than mos
people enjoy, for her desires had beel
ts.sl4y gratified, her ambitions wel . - -
simplest kind.
To live within their small means; :
lay aside a little each year; 70 keep 6 b
house immaculate and the flowers thri'
ing; TO know peaceful nights ana qUic
uneveutfUl DAYS; 70 help neishUor
trouble; to SIT IN the village chUrcE req