The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1892-02-17
A LITTLE WHILE AsUNDeR

A LITTLE WHILE ASUNDER
Mrs. Serena Fry sat idly in the calico
cushioned chair in the kitchen. This
fact, innocent at distant acquaintance,
becomes startling to any one knowing
well Mrs. Fry. A robust, industrious
farmers wife, her years, growing fast to
be numerous. sat lightly upon her, and
did not turn her for moment, from her
daily work, always cheerily and faithful
ly and increasingly performed. So long,
ah only the old kitchen, with its yellow
almanac hanging behind the stove, and
its fading, dull yellow floor, knew how
long had she on every afternoon gone
about the same round of duties, from the
time when Joshua left the dinner table
to the hour when he returned from the
field, that it was much more easy to 90
on with them than it could have been to
pause. Yet there she sat idly in the old
rocker, the stove half polished and the
brush on the hearth, while the sun was
giving his last wink above the red barn
on the hill. Besides, her usually cheer
ful face was elouded-not with anger or
sorrow, but with deep perplexity.
Serena" she said of sudden, rising
With her accustomed briskness, you
ought to be clean ashamed of yourself
If ever Satan got into any body, it's you
The idea Of your sittin' idle, with the
work only half done, thinkin' about goin'
to New York Itwould be bad enough if
everything was done up. Holidays amt
for lazy folks, that's certain
And even as she spoke the old stove
began to. smile out in its usual polished
manner.
When the last bit of work had been ac-
complished, and the old Bible, with
Joshua's spectacles on it, was awaiting
evening prayers from the lamp stand,
Mrs. Fry sat down and sud
q received a letter yesterday, josh
ua.7
" You don't say - said he, stopping in
she act of putting on his spectacles.
From John?7
"No," said his wife from nephew
Joshua, in New York"
q You don't say " said JOshua, again.
"Do you want to read it aloud to me,
S'rena ?"
Il would, butt burnt il up. There
want nothin' secret in it, and | knew
right afterward what thing it was to do
before you'd seen it but some way, it
didn't seem as if it was right to keep it
any longer"
q Not right, S'rena? Has Joshua been
doin' anything"
@No, indeed" said his wife, hastily.
And twas a real nice letter. | noticed
particular that he signed his name josh
ia S. Fry as if to kind O. remind him
self that he was named after you. 1t amt
worth speAkin' OF, but it was printed J.
Sylvester on the envelope
" l amt mite surprised" " said Joshua
with a kindly smile It's a big sight
handsomer name. But what lad be to
say ?"
~He wanted me to come to New York. ."
said Mrs Fry. And for her life she could
not have said word more.
Her husband waited a few moments
in deep silence, and then he spoke
again
"To stay, S'rena?"
Joshua Fry, how you talk He amt
quite fool. To make visit"
Serena let these short sentences shoot
out from her lips as though they were
loaded. He said he an Susie had been
waitin' for me long time, an he thought
l could be spared from the farm now as
well as as any time, seein' he remember
ed the hayin' must be over, an seein' I'd
never been to New York, be did hope
that I'd come. An be sent railroad
pass"
Did you burn that up, tOo?" asked
Joshua but, as be spoke, he noticed it,
for the first time, lying by the Bible and
he leaned forward to read it Once and
again did heexamine the innocent docu-
ment and still turned it over in his hand
when his eyes were looking, as it were,
far away.
For five and twenty years i said only
the old kitchen knew how long, but l
bribed it to tell me- had Joshua and Sc
rena Fry lived together and worked to-
gether without separation or holiday.
Their welded love was Of the old-fash-
ioned sort, and dwelt not in many words
as it began not with a wedding tour, but
thrived In faithful common toll. They
were not only uncomplaining, but were
happy.
As Joshua sat thinking these things,
the sudden invitation of his brothers
boy, who had before this shown his kind
ly remembrance of the old farmhouse
where he used to come for summer frol-
les, brought no pang with its half-told
tale of the difference between life in
Green's Corners and life in the hurrying
city. The meadow paths, with their
winged or creeping citizens, were Farmer
Fry's happy estate, and the yellow floor
ed kitchen his inner hearts home. 1t is
for this reason that I most want his swim
appreciation Of his wife's feeling to be
felt and praised. Had the coming oi
Nephew Joshua's letter been foretold to
him, he would have expected Serena to
read it carefully, and talk over With him
the best way Of sending their thanks for
the invitation, and of telling how impos-
sible it WAS for either Of them to leave
the farm. He knew now, from Der half
excited manner. from the fact that she
had burned the letter as though it had