West Virginia argus. [volume] (Kingwood, W. Va.) 1877-1946, 1890-04-10
BESSIE IN THE BLIZZARD.
by KATE NJ. cLEARY.

~ hNlf VI. tLtARN.
"oh, dear" sighed Bessie, chow
dreary tall looksr
Aud indeed the view seen from the
window OF the big, white, Western
farm house was anything but cheerful
Bare, brown, treclcss prairie all around
a sullcu, wintry SKY overhead, and not a
living creature in sight, except distant
speck of scarlet down in the "draw"-
Baby Willie at play.
Indoors 1t was pleasant enough. Bes-
sic was brisk and tiny little housekecp-
er. When, Immediately after dinner.
her father had brought round the team
and he and her mother had driven on 10
town TO do their regular weekly shop
ping, or trading" as they called IL.
Bessie had hustled about at wonderful
rate. She had washed the dishes. and
put them in shining row on the yellow
pine dresser; she had polished the stove,
and brought in water; she had swept the
room, and Strengthened the rocker cush-
IONS she had set sponge" for the bread
that was 10 bc worked mt night. and
baked early in the morning; she had
shaken the gay strip Of rag carpet. and
busted the clock shelf, and ranged the
chairs 10y the wall with mathematical
precision. Then she had washed her
face aud hands in the bright tin Dan
Kept for that purpose on backlcss chair
near the door, and brushed and braided
her soft, brown hair. She took off her
apron OF blue-chccked gingham, put on
one OF snowy nainsook, hung "A clean
roller towel on the rack, and put kettle
of water on the fire. Then she had taken
up her one dear story book, and sat down
20 read.
1T was tremendously attractive book
to the girl who had been brought up in
tho tamcness and monotony OF prairie
life; it was al about great, good and
brave women; about Florence Night
ingale, and Joan Of Arc, and Grace Oar
ling and Ida Lewis, and heroincs OF
every time and place. A beautiful book
But Bessie laid it down with the con
sciousness that she had been intrudinu
that the company in the briliance OF
whose deeds she had been basSing was
altogether too lOfy and magnanimous for
her
So she went over to the window and
leaned her head against the pane. and
thought how hard it was 20 be heroine
in Nebraska. There was NO war here,
no plague, not even any Indians now.
And nothing ever happened
And pOndcring over this had caused
her to give long sigh, and voice her
discomfort over the dreariness Of all
creation
IL was no wonder her life was wee
bit lonely The nearest neighbors lived
mile away. Willie was too younV TO
be company for her. What did he care
about her vague, delightful dreams
about her heroincs2 And her parents
had decided she was not strong enough
20 go 10 school that winter Indeed,
were she permitted to do so, the glrl
would find it q recreation; merely that.
For she knew quite as much as her rather
inefficient young teacher could attempt
% teach her
She was a slender, delcately formed
girl Of sixteen. Her hair, Of a crispv
sickness, was parted over her forehead in
old-iashioned style Her ewes large.
hazel, dreamy had a certain quiet. ali.
rect way Of regarding one Her rather
clumslly made gown had a frill Of home
made crochet at the neck aud wrists.
How the windmill was creakingl And
how tho bare, snow ball branches in the
front yard were uttlingl and what
brisk tattoo the skeleton sunhower by the
back-door was playing on ITS panels,
But Baby Willie was enjoying himself.
She could see him running up and down
tho draw, " dragging his little wagon
after him.
She turned away She sat iu the big
wooden rocker She curlcd herself up
like comfort loving kitten. And rock
ing and thinking somehow or other, she
rocked aud thought tho cory kitchen
away. She didn't live ia Ncbmska.
within five miles Of the town Of Bubble.
She was not Bessie Linard at ALL She
was a brave woman ia frail boat, out
on stormy sea. She was hclmotcd
heroine, leading hosts 20 battle She
WIS
What a dcafcuing noiscl Was it thc
clang Of "a coming army Was IL the beat
Of drums, the clamor and clash Of swords.
the tread of marching feetf
No, not any Of these Only the crcak
ing Of the fan Of the windmill, which
was whirlinQ 40 on astonishing rate.
Only tho noise 0t shaking window
frames. Only the clattcr Of milk pals
piled outside the door
Slam Bang
Bessie spmng from the rocker. Erec.
she stood, dazcd, bowildered, still bali