The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1890-10-10
GRAY GOLD.

One bright September morning small,
very neat old lady might have been seen
busily engaged in locking the outer door
of house in the somewhat retired village
of Bilbury. The house, small and neat,
like its mistress, looked primly forth
across a tiny dooryard, gay with such
hardy and brilliant blooms as had re-
fused to yield to incipient frosts. On the
steps sat big gray cat, the Sits in his
cold green eyes dilated. even beyond
their early morning wont, with evident
wonder and dismay. Clearly that door
had not been locked from the outside
within the utmost stretch of his memory.
What could it mean?
That it meant something serious was
evident, for, when his mistress turned
frorn her rather protracted wrestle with
the door, her sweet, puckered old face
expressed a mixture of anticipation and
regret, slightly tinged with timid awe,
but, withal, dominated by an evident de.
termination to carry her point, whatever
it might be, which must have struck any
bystander capable of being amused OF
touched. Big Tom was capable of neither
he could only disapprove. Some people
and some cats are very much alike.
The old lady felt her pets mental at.
titude, as evidenced by his bodily one.
She slipped the shiny, worn key beneath
the mat (every family in Bilbury was in
the habit of secreting its door key under
its door mat, and every other family
knew it), took up black leather satchel
that stood waiting beside her, and turned,
apologetically, to the man of the house:
Tommy" she said, strokiny his rough,
gray head in a deprecating way, "Tm
sorry ter leave ye-I'm proper sorry ter
leave ye-but Isaac an me alwus said
we'd go, an'-an' will!''
The hand that had sought to pacify
Tom was suddenly withdrawn to seek a
pocket handkerchief; yet, even while its
owner dried her eyes, her little pointed
chin took on a doubly resolved pucker.
"There's meat an milk in the shed for
ye, Tommy, plenty ont, an Ill be back
again Thursday evenin', if nothin' hap
pens. If ye want anything more, there's
that old rat in the cellar; ye ha'nt caught
him yet. Good-by, Tommy"
But Tommy would not say good-by.
He shook his tail, and turned off in a
huff; while the old lady, thus given the
cold shoulder, turned away, too, and
went slowly out at the white gate and
down the street. 1t was early; if any of
the neighbors were stirring they were
all in the kitchen end of their houses.
No one noticed or spoke to her till she
reached the dingy little flag station, from
which, three times a day, stray passen-
gers could be conveyed to the junction,
five miles away, there to make such con-
nection as they might with trains on the
main line. The station master, q mar,
with just enough regular employment to
prevent his doing much of anything,
opened his dull eyes almost as widely as
the cat had done.
"Goin' ter the city, Mis- Fosdick-all
alone?"
eyes, sir" replied the old lady with
reserve, Il be-"
The man continued to eye her, steadily
and doubtfully, while he handed out 4
ticket and she paid for it. The withered
hand, i'll its black mitt. never trembled;
but, as it touched his, in making the ex-
change, he felt it strangely cold.
"Ruther an unexpected start, amt itr'
hn nlln,.iaH cboorf,,llx, /, Ii. 1
silver pieces she had given him from one
dirty palm to the other.
''No, SIR" she answered, as quietly as
before, 1--WE been expectin' to 70 for
some time"
She turned away and he dropped the
money into drawer; but his face still
wore its doubtful look, and, presently, as
he stood beside her ON the platform,
while the short freight train with its red
caboose steamed slowly up, he ventured
one last remark:
"Lemme see, Mis- Fosdick, ye ha'ni
never traviled on the cars afore, have
YEP
His tone said, Hadn't you better think
twice before you do 1t this timer? But
the answer came as quietly us before:
mo, Mr.. Stephens, Inever have. Good
mornin', sir" And she stepped toward the
train, which was coming to standstill in
compliance with the request conveyed by
very dilapidated flag.
He could but help her up the high
awkward steps and hand her satchel after
her; but the look of doubt intensified tc
one of disapproval AS the red caboose dis.
appeared among the pines at the rivei
bend, and he shook his head as much as
Tom had shaken his tail.
''Jake's folks don't know it, I'll bet a
cent. What in times set the old woman
out ter sneak off that way?"
Meantime the old woman, sitting on
the hard, shiny cushions of the jerky car
was old no longer. She was young Lucy
Ives, the prettiest girl in Bilbury, and
she was setting forth along the brightest
pathway that ever opened before a will.
ing woman's feet. No, she was not Lucy
Ives, either; she was Lucy Fosdick now;
for was not handsome Isaac Fosdick sit.
ting there beside her? And had not Par.
son Babbitt pronounced them man and
wife two hours ago? There was her new
black satchel under the seat, and there
was certain little hair trunk somewhere
on top with the driver. Ike and he had
slowed it away carefully, and they were
rolling along the river road to Bickford