Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1889-09-19
Amt HANNAH, FROM MAINE.

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Would they put her in the asylum,
abe wondered, IF they caught her
Folks would surely think she was crazy.
She stopped at the stone wall to rest and
lo,k back timOrously. Far behind her
stretched the meadow symphony of olive
o,d Green I'm the late fall Here and there
Inv a sudden boulder stood soldierly golden
r1d or berry bushes clothed now In scarlet
and cold At intervals on the long slope
stood solitary trees, where tiutterlng brit
Ne leaves fell in the gentle chill air. In
summer time she remembered well the hay
makers resting in the shade, and the jug
with ginger water she made for the men
.ras kent there to be cool. She seemed as she
s3t there. to remember everything. The
bousp was all right she was sure of that;
the KEY was under the kitchen door mat,
the fire was ont IN the stove, and the cat
locked in the barn.
She held her work hardened hands to her
side. painting a little. for it was a good bit
of wall, across the meadow, and she was
eighty years old on her last birthday The
COWS feeding looked hOmelike and pleas
ant
aGood-by critters, she said aloud;
meny', the time I've driy' We home an
MIXED We. and allus let We eat by the way,
nor never hurried We as the boys done.
With farewell glance she went on
again, smoothing as she walked the scat
tered locks Of gray hair falling under the
pumkin-hood and keeping her scant gown
out of the reach of briars Across another
field and then through leafy lane where
the wood was hauled in winter. then out
through a gap in q stump fence, with its
great branching arms like petrifed octo-
pus, to the dusty high road Not a soul in
sight in the coming twilight. John. the
children and scolding wife who made her
SO unhappy would not be at home for an
hour yet. for East Mill was a long drive.
Down the steep hill went the brave little
figure. followed by a shadow of itself in the
waning light and by tiny stones that roll
ed so swiftly they passed her often and
made her look behind with a start to see if
pursuer was coming.
They'd put me in the asylum sure, "
she muttered wildly.
At the foot Of the hill she sat down on an
old log and waited Across the road
guarded by a big sign, Look out for the
engine ran two parallel iron rails, that
were TO be her road when the big monster
would come painting around the curve. At
last the dull rumblng sounded, a shrill
whistle, and she hurried to the track waiv-
ing her shawl to signal. This in the con
ductors vernacular, was a croSs-rOad
station where he was used to watch for
people, waving articles frantically. The
tram stopped and tins passenger was helped
aboard He noticed she was a bright
eyed old lady, very neat and precise.
" How fW?' he asked.
" Bostin.
Cit there in the mornin' he said
kindly waiting for the money, as she
opened queer little reticule, where, under
her knitting, wrapped in clean cotton
handkerchief, was her purse with her saw
ngs Of long years the little sums Sam
had sent her when he first began to pros
per ln the west, and some money she had
earned herself by knitting and berrypick-
ing.
Att a cross-road as they went swiftly on,
she saw the old sorrel horse. the rafting
wagon. and John with his family driving
homeward. She drew back with little
cry, tearing he might see her and stop the
Tram, but they went on so fast that could
n7t pe. and the old horse logged into the
woods. and John never thought of his old
Aunt Hannah, his charge for twenty long
years, was running away. At Boston a
GHiy conductor bought her a ticket for
Denver.
n long journey for an old lady like
ynl. hp said
BIT I'm pert for my age, she said
'Nq-.y. - never had days sickness
-nn was q gal
g..ug all the way alone?'
with lTEVIIpura '' shA 1uuruarAI