The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1888-08-24
NUMBER 90.
DARBY AND JOAN.

tnuously, on Mrs. Trues garden. The
lately transplanted geraniums and pc
tunias lifted their heads gratefully TO the
warm shower, and the fuchsias and sweet
slyssum frightened under its influence.
II their mistress could have seen them,
She, too, would have rejoiced, for the
flowers ware her children, petted darlings,
for whom no care could be too great, no
attention too paiustaking. She had
housed them in winter, set them out in
summer, trimmed, guarded hung over
over them year after year.
Involuntarily 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 10 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 sc0nts 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 ker bridal
outfit, rested the gray head, still neatly
cared for, and the face, with its palloI,
still wore look of kindly impatience.
At her side sat her husband, good
Deacon True, with bowed head and sad
eyes; and in his work hardened hand he
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 tse house door,
and was as softly admitted.
But the two, with their faces turned
toward each other, took no notice.
''How is shey' said the neighbor down
stairs who had dropped i'm
"Failin'," answered Fidelia Perkins,
the maid Of all work, temporarily en-
gagged for the emergency.
"How's hs?"
Fairly beat out with gricvin'. Seems's
If he hadn't no heart for eatin' or drinkin'
or nothin'. just settin' up there along o.
her, and holdin' her hand. l 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,'' assente1 Filelia, tax
ing out her knitting. "Now you just
make yourself comfortable, Mis- Clap.
I'm real glad to see somebody. TIA
dreadful lonesome here. Jest these two
stall critters upstairs, and me and the cat
downstairs, and nothih' on earth TO do.
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 a master hand for cleanin',r
said AIRS. Clapp, shaking her head
tEOughtfuliy. and as / say, there waru't
10 children TO make dirt"
NO, there warn't, but them plants IS
about as bad, 10 my thinlzin.' clut5ering
up the place half the year, and havin' to
trail around with a waterin' pot, and
weedin and stcwin' over 'em the rest Of
the time. She took sight Of comfort in
'eIn, though
she was real good woman, Mis- True
was sis.hcd Mrs. Clapp, speaking -
ready in -" pl-t tense.
And he powerful good man"
''Ther. ain't no better"
: "CueerseCn good folks hadn't p family"
well, they did have one child"
"Do tell' / never heard Of il before.
Boy or girl2''
boy, believe; law, Mis- True was
most tickled to death about it. She was
as proud as an old hen with one chick,
but it didn't last long. l was sent for to
nurse ner, and she was a dreadful sick
woman, out OF her head, just raving about
that baby; goin' on about what she was
meaning 10 90 IOr IT,
''She had it all planned out for life
time how She was a-Soin' 10 rock him to
sleep nights, and how, by and hy, he Vas
agoin' 10 set to the table in a hs.h chair
alongside OF her, and, finally. how he WAS
to take the farm AID live with them al
ways. Ny! She was ramblin' on so fast
and a smiling away to herself. while the
rest OF us-Ine and the doctor and the
deacon-was Jest a-fiEhtin' for that baby's
life. And, at last, when she come 10 her
self there warn't nothin' but dead baby
to shew her"
Dear, dear! did she take on mrlchs''
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, and her eyes got big
and bad lookin'; it was enough TO ha'nt
You - see en-, and she never said nothin'
to me; jest moaned, and caught aboid Of
the dcacou's coat sleeve as ii she needed
somethin' to comfort her. 1t did seems
If her heart was broke sure. She never
had no more children"
II guess that's wig they've been so set
on each other" unused Fidelia.
''Well, as II that, there amt no tellin'
Some few fo!,.s are so-considerate and
fealin'-but MIGHTY few. Most married
folk get tired OF livin' together, or. at any
| rate, they appear so, to home. The deacon
and Ms True they's been lie they was
| a'coUrtin' all these years. Hes done all
she chores for her that a mortal man
could DO, and she's been rs sweet to him
well, as sweetas one ofthcm doves accom-
away out there on the barn
| ''Hark! What's that?" said Fidelia,
holding up one hand, warninSly.
1t was only the sound OF n weak voice.
/ n n q
swer soothiagly.
While the two women had talked the
afternoon had waned. The rain seemed
| like fast falling tears. The flowers, some
of them, were closing drowsly. 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 the
! young leaves.
! Curiously enough this tender note
alone had the power to rouse the dying
woman. She had always been in close
| sympathy with all fair helpless things,
flowers, young birds and infants. Now,
in her extremity, this weak cry pierced to
her heart and woke her.
Where's the baby?' she whispered.
''Why don't they bring the baby 10 me;''
She was living over again her only sick
ness. she faucied herself young once
more, young and dlled with a strange
great happiness.
The years between had vanished. They
Were happy years, too, happier than most
people enjoy. for her desires had beer
.asily grained, her ambitions were o1 tina
simplest kind.
To live within their small means; TO
ay aside little each year; to keep the
house immaculate and the flowers thriy-
ng; to know peaceful nights and quiet,
lneveutful days; TO help neighbor IL
trouble; TO sit in the village church regu
larry on Sunday, and to be sure that Ia:
/ grass grew green and the white Violetl