The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1890-09-14
ESTHER BARR.

One hot afternoon in August the sun
| 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 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 20, Annie Weston 20 strangers to
each other until few weeks before, when
Annie had come west for her health and
had found in this quiet old home and pa
tient old woman that rest she needed.
How beautiful the sky looks, Mrs. Barr,
doesn't it? ! always fancy so many things
when | see clouds like that, of heaven and
things, don't you, Mrs. Barrf" and the girl
laughed shyly
"Of heaven3 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 Dorothys 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 child,
a girl, and that | made you think of her.
Will you tell me OF that child of yours,
Mrs BARR l would so love to hear about
her."
Mrs. Barr stroked the white hand and
said: "Nay, miss, it's not story for such
as YOU Your life will be smooth. and why
hear my story, dear?" Annie rose from
the step, and kneeling beside the woman
put her tender arms around her. You
said you would miss me when am gone;
you said brought back to you years when
your child was with you. You say your
story is not one that should hear. II is q
sad one. then2 Dear, dear Mrs. Barr, if
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
l know you can trust me-"
Dorothy took the tender little face be-
tween her hands and said: Trust you,
child' Yes, | know ! could. Get down
here, miss, beside me, at my feet, where
she knelt long ago, and hear of that child
of mine, little Esther More than fifty
years ago John Barr come wooin' me. |
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: TO child come to US, and
John and me longed for one. Twenty
years had we lived together, when one
mornin' wee little babe was born to US.
Oh child, the happiness of that dayl John
couldn't do no work, but just hung around
the house, too happy to leave me and baby.
She was born in this same house, Miss An
ME, and grew 10 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 |
knew considerable about books. But she
grew up happy if not very KNOWN and
wise.
"She was beautiful. too beautiful 10 be our
child, though John when ne was young
was a powerful smart !ookin' man But
how we loved Esther, The sun rose and
set in that little girl OF ours, and she loved
US. too, thank God. In those days hunt
ers and painters used 10 come up the hills
here TO the mountains, and often we had
several sJayin' mere, the money they paid
us for board and Iodgin' comm in handy
At first John and me didn't notice nothin'
particular about the men stayln' round
here, but one day John saws 10 me: Our
Esther mighty pretty gal. Dorothy, and
il kinda seems TO He the strangers think
some such way, too That set me 70
thinklu'. ard | come TO the conclusion
that perhaps they did stay here more for
Esther than anything else. But, child,
what could we dos We needed the money
they'd bring. and Esther never paid them
10 attention nowsys My pretty little
Esther, with her STOW v hite neartr'
Old Dorothy smoothed the golden head
lying close 70 her knee while Annie turned
and kissed the poor old hand lying in her
zap. Go on. Ms Barr. ! am listening"
Yes, cAIla- Well there was d man at
our house then. young painter, and as
likely a lookin' chap - ! ever sec. Esther
4iways blUSheG when Le spoke 70 her, and
noticed she never done that before
Every night be would ask Esther 20 20
Town the path across me hills for 4 walk.
nd she s.ws-, went. Every night she
sme bsck win a happier look OF her
Dung face. 01t pa AID me didn't say
TOT hin for we rather liked TIE young fsl-
Cw, though we kne'g oe Was a city nan
to8 our Esther cuivs roouptRlo bi-d RI1t
sc thought he'd 90 away Snd that would
e tke END ont On. child cnLc. can you
.rov how We loved her. cur E;tls Sirl that
came s. late into our lives ! Sc her now.
miss. With Ter tender, tEustln brown eyes,
t.>st haa never seen SID or s1ferin'. You
city girls. miss. with your thousand pleas
ures and sights knows nothIn' Of a life Ike
ours. She was our al. our life. and when
she lett Is IL seemed most a. II God had
gone, too"
Yes, YES. dear, know. SIC left you
them
-Ay. child. I'm comm 20 that One
night they'd been up the hilAs and come in
kinda IAte- Philip S!dleJ. fer thai va -