Morning appeal. [volume] (Carson City, Nev.) 1877-1906, 1890-04-27
THE RUNAWAY.

iuHi, siic WoHuSrSu, IL lncy CduSHt
herr"
Folks would surely think she was
crazy
She stopped at the stone wall, to rest
and poke back tinorously at the old
fam I;ir scene.
She seemed, as she sat there, to re-
member everything. The house was
all right, she was sure of that; the key
: was under the kitchen door mat, the
fire was out in the stove, and the cat
locked in the barn.
She held her work hardened hands
. to her side, painting little, for 1t was
a good bit of walk across the mead
ow, and she was eighty years old on
IIher last birthday The cows feeding
looked homelike and pleasant.
"Goodbye, critters" she said aloud;
"meny's the time I've druv' we home
an MIXED ye, an allus let We eat by
the way, nor never hurried ye."
With a farewell glance she went on
again smoothing as she walked the
scattered locks of gray hair, and keep
ing her scant Black gown out of the
reaca cf briars. Across another field,
then on through leafv lane, and out
through a gap in stump fenee. Not
soul in sight. John, the children, and
the scoliing wife who mile her So
unhappy, woul.! not oe nome for an
hour yet. Dosn raE steep hill went
the brave little figure, followed by
tiny stones tllt rolcl 50 swiftly past
they nlle her look b.hinl with a start
to see if a pursuer were coming.
"Tney'd Pur me in the asylum,
sure" size mItterel wildly as she
trulgei along.
At tn. foot Of the hill she sat down
on an old log and waited for the train.
Across the rol1 guarded by big
sign, 'Look out for the Engine" ran
two parallel iron rails, that were TO be
her road when the big monster should
come painting around the curve.
At last the dull rumble sounded
shrill whistle, anl she hurried to the
track, waving her shawl to signal.
This, in the conductors vernacular,
'~9s crossroads station, where he
W used to watch for people waving
-feicles frantically. The train stopped
and the passenger was helped aboard.
He noticed she was bright eyed old
lady, very neat and precise.
allow fur?" he a, ked.
"Bostin."
"Git there in the mornin'," he said
kindly, waiting for the money, as she
opened queer little reticule, where, /
under her knitting, wrapped in clean,
Gotten handkerchief, was her purse
with her savings of long years-the
little sums Sam had sent her when he
first began to prosper in the West,
and some money she had earned her
self knitting and berry picking.
AT crossroads, as they went swift
y on, she saw the old sorrel horse, the
-attiiag wagon, and John with his
amily driving homeward. Sine drew
,ack with a little cry, fearing he
night see her and stop the train, but
hey went on SO fast that could not be ;
md the old horse logged into the
woods. and John never thought his old
Aunt Hannah, his charge for twenty
ong years, was running away.
AT Boston a kindly conductor |
'onght her through ticket to Denver.
ats long journey for an old lady
ike you" he said.
But I'm peart for my age" she
aid anxiously;" never had days
ickness since l was gall
"Going all the way alone?"
with Providence" she answered +
rightly, alert, eager to help herself
MT silent and thoughtful as the train
ook her into strange landscapes where r
he miles went SO swiftly that it seem
j like past ears of her life as she look
d back on them. r
In the day coach the people were +
ind and generous, sharing their :
lnch with her seeing she changed cars
II right and her carpet bag was safe. |.
The tended babies for tired women
nd talked to the men of farming and ;
rops, or told the children Bible stories. T
Tired and worn by nights in the un-
onfortable seats, her brave spirit
egan to fail little. g
As the days wore on, and still the
land showed no human h
abitation, no oasis of green, her eyes o.
something like a sob rose !,