St. Landry democrat., 1890-10-04
ESTHER BARR.

oLlO " dllti1 looh LII . llC u
threw its slanting rays upon the porch
where Dorothy Barr was sitting. The sun
would have loved to have touched her face,
but the wide spreading porch jealousy
guarded it. 1t was a wrinkled, care worn
face, the eyes of faded blue, the white hair
neatly combed beneath the cap of black,
the mouth with its poor, pathetic lines, a
face that of sorrows blight, but that now
showed a peace born of resignation. Years
back sorrow had swept through her life,
darkening it all, killing that which was SO
dear to her, and bringing shame upon the
head that once held itself so high, able to
look the world in the face and say, Il am
stainless"
Dorothy Barr sat this afternoon in the old
rocking chair, with her hands idly folded in
her lap, looking out over the hills beyond
to the blue rim of the sky where it tipped
and kissed the earth. A girl of twenty
summers sat on the steps of the porch in
front of the old lady, with her knees drawn
up to her chin and an eager, questioning
look on the pretty, delicate face. Dorothy
Barr was 10, Annie Weston 20 strangers to
each other until a few weeks before, when
Annie had come west for her health and
had found in this quiet old home and pa
| GkChG ~ i klIGAo 3SSo oiAS 49,
GLOW beautiful the sky looks, Mrs Barr,
doesn't it? always fancy so many things
when I see clouds like that, of heaven and
things, don't you, Mrs. BARR" and the girl
laughed shyly.
"Of heaven9 Yes, child, yes, many a
time. There is rest there; child, so the
good book says. There all strife is ended
and peace is found" Old Dorothy's face
was raised and the poor eyes looked out
far beyond, as if to pierce the veil that
hides from mortal eyes that realm where
the ineffable peace and rest is found.
Annie Weston raised one pretty, soft
hand and placed it on the hard, wrinkled
| old ones in Dorothy's lap, and said: Dear
Mrs. Barr, you said once you had a child,
a girl, and that I made you think of her.
Will you tell me Of that child of yours,
| Mrs. Barr? would so love to hear about
her"
Mrs. Barr stroked the white hand and
| said: "Nay, miss, it's not a story for such
as you. Your life will be smooth, and why
hear my story, dears" Annie rose from
the step, and kneeling beside the woman
put her tender arms around her. "You
said you would miss me when I I'M gone;
you said I brought back to you years when
your child was with you. You say your
story is not one that I should hear. 1t is a
sad one, then? Dear, dear Mrs. Barr, if l
look like that poor child Of yours, tell me
of her, and let me comfort you. Tell me
OF that young life, where she is now, and
I know you eau trust me-"
Dorothy took the tender little face be-
tween her hands and said: "Trust you,
child2 Yes, l know I could. Get down
here, miss, beside me, at my feet, where
she knelt long AFRO, and hear of that child
of mine, little Esther. More than fifty
years ago John Barr come wooin' me. l
loved him, child, and we was married.
We was God fearin' people, and our life
was quiet and serenelike. Only one blot
on our happiness; no child come TO us, and
John and Inc longed for one. Twenty
years had we lived together, when one
mornin' a wee little babe was born to us.
Oh child, the happiness ofthat day! John
couldn't do no work, but just hung around
the house, too happy to leave me baby.
She was born in this same house, Miss An
ME, and grew to womanhood here. The
years that she grew from baby to girl was
the happiest ones to us. There was no
school around here, but her pa and me
learnt her what we could, for in my day |
ku6W cOi1SltltEdJIc o'cfAE. O"S SHS
grew up happy if not very KNOWN and
wise.
"She was beautiful, too beautiful to be our
child, though John when he was young
was a powerful smart lookin' man. But
how we loved Esther! The sun rose and
set in that little girl of ours, and she loved
ms. too. thank God. In those days hunt
ers and painters used to come up the hills
here to the mountains, and often we had
several stayin' here, the money they paid
MS for board and lodgin' comm in handy.
At first John and me didn't notice nothin'
particular about the men stayin' round
here, but one day John says to me: Our
Esther's a mighty pretty gal, Dorothy, and
it kinda seems to me the strangers think
some such way, too That set me to
thinkin', and / come to the conclusion
perhaps they did stay here more for
Esther than anything else. But, child,
what could we do? We needed the money
they'd bring, and Esther never paid them
attention noways. My pretty little
Esther, with her snow white hearth
Old Dorothy smeethed the golden head
close to her knee, while Annie turned
and kissed the poor old hand lying in her
lap. go On. Mrs. Barr, I am listening"
eyes, child. Well, there was a mar at
our house then, a young painter, and as
likely a lookin' chap as l ever see. Esther
always blusbed when he spoke to her, and
[ noticed she never done that before.
Every night he would ask Esther to go
down the path across the hills for a walk,
and she always went. Every night she
back with a happier look on her
young face, put pa md me didn't say
nothin', for we rather liked the young fel-
low, though We knew he was a city man
and our Esther only a mountain bird. But