Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1888-11-22
STORY OF A LIFE.
The Quiet Comfort Miss Denny
Derived from Her Telescope.

There come unsocial periods to the
lives of every one Of US; days and
weeks when our own moods and en-
pigments and thoughts are OF para
mount and engrossing Importance and
other people lose their interest for us
and recede into temporary distance. 1t
is not that we love man less, but
ourselves, for the moment, more; some
instinct of self-preservation prompts
US to be isolated and left alone for
awhile.
Such period came to me summer be-
fore last, when, after nearly a year of
enforced idleness, shut myself in the
third story corner-room of Mrs. Merry
weather's quaint old clearinghouse.
to make up for lost time, by short
spell of continuous work. Day after
day l wrote, and read and took notes,
sitting beside a delightful west win
dow, which, from beneath the pensile
boughs, of an immense willow. looked
where a distant chain of hill outlines
stood against the sky. With that
vague, unseeing gaze which does not
see, l watched the cloud-shadows blow
across the distance and dapple the face
of the blue ranges, the crows rising
and falling in the meadow with hoarse,
jargoning cries, the doves on the
neighboring boughs but not the vii
lage houses, which formed the fore
ground of the picture, and the men
and women who walked the sleepy
streets among them. This was easy,
for / am unobservant, both by nature
and training, and, for the moment, by
intention, | shrank from idea the of in
corruption, from the danger OF becoming
interested in man or woman till my
work was done. / elected not to see,
so did not see. Happily it rained a
good deal just then, so there were
fewer people and less temptation.
But by the end of the third week,
when the weather had cleared and my
work was well along, my dormant OBJ
servation quickened, and, among other
things, L began to wonder idly what
could be the purpose of strange
structure on a neighboring roof. 1t
was spherical in form, and seemed
altogether too big and ponderous for
the very small house which it sur
mounted. ] resolved to inquire of
Mrs. Merryweather about it, but forgot
my intention from time to time, until
one day, when returning from a walk,
found her placidly knitting stockings
on her own doorstep, with book on
her lap, and suddenly recollected to
ask the question.
That" she replied, indicating
with wave of her needle the object
which had excited my curiosity; don't
tell that you never noticed it before?
That's curious, for it's queer enough to
look st. Most folks pick it out at
once. It's where Miss Denny's tele-
scope is"
s'An observatory! never thought of
that. The house is so very small"
80 it is. 1t always was a small.
house. They had great times getting
the roof fixed to hold it, and bricking
up the sides to make it strong. But
nothing else would satisfy Miss Denny,
so they managed it at last. l guess
the whole thing would come down to-
gether if they tried to move it away
now"
But who was this Miss Denny and
what did she want of a telescope?
Was she so very fond of astronomy"
l asked, seating myself on the steps
beside her.
You're one for stories, guess" OBJ
served my landlady, shrewdly. This
isn't much of a story to tell about, tho
it always makes me feel little bad to
think about Marianne Denny. She
was one Of the Kennybunkport Dennys.
/ never knew what made them come
here in the first place, but here they
were as far back as remember. There
was an old mother who was feeble,
and sister who was always sort OF
ailing and complaining. and Marianne.
That was all, except Sarah Denny, and
she died young. Marianne taught the
district school when l was mite of a
child, so you can see there was good
deal of difference between US, as much
as seventeen or eighteen years 1 guess;
but we was always friends somehow,
from the first"
''Was she so attractive then?n
''Well, / can't say for everybody.
always pitied her and liked her some
how. She was little aud thin and
timid-like. She had big eyes, which
always seemed TO be looking far off
and not seeing things that was close to
her distinctly.
well, l grew up and got married
about as early as l could, as girls go,
but Marianne stayed an old maid.
don't believes she minded much. Some
times I've thought there might have
been something when she was young.
before l knew her, to set her against
1t; anyhow, she never seemed to care
Tor any of the young men. Her
mother and sister kept on getting more
and more helpless and she kept on
teaching. / suppose they didn't have