The Kootenai herald. [volume] (Kootenai, Idaho) 1891-1904, 1891-08-29

clOVers, vas a Inin9 OF the past, cotton
mill roared and thundercd all day long, where
the birds built and the trees blossOmed thirty
odd years ago. 1t no longer blossomed ex-
cept in Miss Becky's memory. She had
turned her thoughts TO raising plants when
she was left to her own resources, but one
cruel winters night killed all her slips, and
the capital was lacking by which she might
renew her stock. Since then She had gone
out for daily sewing, had watched the sick,
had been in demand for a temporary house
keeper whenever tired matron wished al
outing; but lately her eyes no longer served
her for fine work, and sewing machines had
been introduced; she was not SO alert in the
sick room as OF yore; she moved more slowly,
and her housekeeping talent was no longer IN
request; added to this, the bank where her
little earnings had been growing, one day
failed and left her high and dry. Some of
her friends had Travelled to pastures new,
some had married away, some had
ignored or forgotten her. As for Larry
Rogers, he had been away from Ply
mouth this many a year. Somebody had
sent him abroad the year after Lucy Amory's
marriage to develope his musical genius. He
had grown into famous violinist, PLAYING
all over the country to crowded houses, be-
sAAS fAAaNNN lfNclfAN N-N+ANAs
beautiful romance to Miss Becky to read in
The Plymouth Record about our '"gifted
townsman;" she did not blame him because
she sat in the shadow, because her life had
been colorless. She sang again the old tunes
he had taught her, and made little sunshine
in her heart All of happiness she had ever
known he had brought her. Why should she
complain? And now she was going to the
Old Ladies' home
cit isn't exactly what l expected in my
youth, she said to the old doctors widow.
''No; but you'll have a nice room and
bright fire, and the neighbors will drop i'll to
see you and make it homelike. Now, there's
old Mrs. Gum. Nothing can persuade her
to go to the home. She says it's only gem
teel almshouse after all; and so she rubs
along with what little she can earn and what
! the neighbors have a mind to send in, and
they have to do it mighty gingerly, too, just
as though they were asking favor of her.
LORI she doesn't earn her salt"
81 dare say returned Miss Becky. "Now,
if it hadn't been for the rheumatism | could
earn my living for years yet, and may be get
something ahead again; but it seems as if the
rheumatism laid in wait for the poor and
friendless.n
''You ought to have married when you
were young, Becky said the doctors widow,
who had forgotten all about BeclSys love
affair, and labored under the impression that
She never had a chance-an impression which
matrons are apt to entertain concerning their
single friends. Miss Becky had been spend
ing some weeks with Mrs. Dr. Dwight, who
had moved away from Plymouth after her
husbands DEATH She there chiefly to
put some stitches into the widows wardrobe,
which nobody else would do reasonably
that lady's grief having incapacitated her
from holding a needle on giving her mind to
material details of 'seam and gusset and
bandp But during the visit Miss Becky had
been seized with her sharpest attacks of
rheumatism, which had kept her in bed for
weeks, till her wages were exhausted by
drugs and doctors fees. 1t was at this time
that she made up her mind to go into the
Home on her return to Plymouth.
Mrs. Dwight saw her off at the station.
II hope you'll find the home cozy,n she said,
outside the car window. tits lucky Parson
Amory left you that 800, after all. He
might have doubled itn
Eyes, l suppose so,m Miss Becky answered
meekly. Perhaps she was thinking that, if
she were Mrs Dwight, no old friend of hers
should go begging for refuge at an aims
pretty, comfortable home waiting for her
friend, and wondering why their fortunes
were so unlike.
"WlIte when you reach Plymouth, and LET
me know how you're suited,n said Mrs
Dwight, and just then the cars gave a lurch
and left her behind, and Miss Becky turned
her glance inward. Somebody had taken G
seat beside her.
"Your friend was speaking of Parsor
: Amory and Plymouth" he said. 81 couldn't
help hearing. / was born in Plymouth myself
but / haven't met a soul from there thes,
twenty years. l am on my way to look ~
my old friends
Twenty years is long time," answered
T Becky. Il am afraid you won't find many
J of your friends left. You'll hardly know
Plymouth"
q suppose not-I suppose not. Have yol
lived there long"
81! l have lived there all my days"
, ''Good! I'm hungry for news of the PEG
Z pie. Tell me everything you can think OF
, Did Parson Amory leave fortune! He wa
, called close. Where's Miss Nell married 0
(; dead2 can see the old place in my mind
; eye, and the parsonage under the elms, am
, the orchard behind it where Lucy Amor
: planted a young tree on her wedding day, an
the gown little Becky Thorne wore. BY tn
1 way, is she alive! DO you know her"
9 Miss Becky hesitated an instant.
. eyes, she replied, II know her-more o
n less. She's aliven
n "And married! She must he 60 odd. sh
), was a pretty creature, such-I suppose the
; are wrinkles nowl Where have the yeaI
4 gomez Is her home in the old place stillN
: "Her homeln said Miss Becky, flushing
; little ''She has none She is on her way t
d the Old Ladies' home"
Q ITO the Old Ladies' home! Becky Thorne
y ha racuaJ tsA,l