St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1892-08-13

track waving her shawl 70 signal
This, in the conductors jernac ular.
was = crossroads station. where he
was used TO watch for peoSle waving
articles frantically. The train stopped
and this passenger was help.d aboard.
He noticed she was . brigtt-eyed old
lady, very neat and precise.
'How fur?" he asked.
s'Bostin."
Cit there in tho mornin,:' he said,
standing waiting for the money. Is she
opened . queer little reticale where,
wrapped in . clean cottoa handker.
chief. under her knitting was her
purse with her savings Of loag years
the little sums Sam had sent when he
first began to prosper in the west and
some money she had earned herself BY
knitting and berry picking.
At = crossroads, rs they went swiftly
On. she saw the old sorref horse, the
rafting wagon and John with his fam
lily driving homeward. She drew back
with little cry, fearing he might see
her and stop the train; but they went
on SO fast that could mot Be. and the
old horse logged into the woods, and
John never thought his old Aunt Han
nah, his charge for twenty long years,
was running away.
At Boston kindly conductor bought
hcr . through ticket for Denver.
Its long journey for ~ old lady
like you" he said.
But I'm peart for my ageg'she said.
snxiously; Il never he'd . days sick
ness since l was . gal"
'Going al the way aloneTs
"With Providence" abe answered,
brightly, alert and eager to: help her.
self. but silent and thoughtful as the
train took her into strange landscapes,
where the miles went so swiftly it
seemed like the past years d her life
- he looked back on them.
Thy works is marvellous she muir
INJURED often. sitting with her hands
folded. and few idle days had there
been in her world. where she had sat
and reste d for 50 long.
In the day coach the peopleiwere X ind
and generous, sharing their baskets
with her and seeing that she changed
cars right and her carpet bag was safe.
She was like any Of the dear old grand
mas in eastern homes. or. 10 grizxled
men and weary women, like the MEM
DRY of . dead mother q faint and far
away a the scent Of wild roses In .
hillside country burying-grvund. She
tended babies for tired women and
talked to the men Of farmingsand crops,
or told the children Bible stories; but
never . word she said Of herself, not
one.
On again, guided by kindly hands
through the great, bewilderiig city BY
the lake. and now through . yet
stranger land Tired and worn BY night
in tho uncomfortable seats, her brave
spirit began to fail . little. As the
wide. level plains, lonely and drear.
dawned on her sight, she sighed often.
ats . drc'ful big world. she said to
. gray-bearded old farmer near her;
$50 big feel e'enmost lost in it; but, :"
hopefully, across them deserts like
this long ago Providence sent . star to
guide them wise men Of the east, an
hain't lost my faith"
but q the day wore on, and still the
long, monotonous land showed NO
human habitation, no oasis of green.
her eyes dimmed. something like : sob
rose under the black 'kerchsef on the
bowed shoulders, and the spectacles
were taken OF with trembling hand
and put away carefully in the worn tin
ease.
BE ye goin' fur, motherT' said the
old farmer.
He had brought her . cupful Of cof-
fec Ut the last station, and had pointed
out on the way things he thought might
interest her.
ITO Denver"
"Wal. wal; you're from New Eng
land. IN be bound?"
..HrqD 1leine." she answered. and
thsashsk1k communicative, for she
was always . chatty old lady, and she
had possessed her soul in silence 50
long, and Il was relief to tep the story
Of he230fy years Of waiting to kind
" listener.
She told him al the relations she had
were two grandnephews and their fam
lilies. That twenty years ago Sam flor
she had brought them both: up when
their parents died of consumption, that
takes 50 many of our foll<s); went out
west He was always adventurous, and
for ten years she did not hear from him;
but John was different and steady, and
when he came Of age she had given him
her farm. with the provision nhe should
always have . home, otherwise he
would have gone away too. WE'LL for
FIVE years they were happy. when John
married, and his wife had grown to
think her . burden rs the years went
on, and tho children when they grew
big did not care for her. and she felt
she had lived too long.
Il growed 50 lonesome" she said, 1t
seems couldn't take up heart to live
day BY day. an yit knowed our folks
was long-lived. Ten years back, when
Sam wrote me he was doin' fair, an
sent me money, l begun to think OF
him, for he was allus generous an kind,
an the gratefulest boy; an 50 began
to save to 60 TO him, fur I knowed
could work fur my board fur . good
many years to come. Fur three years
he amt hardly wrote, but l laid that to
the wild kentry he lived 10. l said
bars an lnjuns don't slseer me none,
fur when was . gal up in Aroo<trk
kentry there was plenty Of b"th. an -
fur bufferlers, them horned cattle don't
skeer me none, fur I've been used to
farm allus. But the Consequences Of
these medders has sorter upset me, an
made me think every day Sam was fur
Their OF than ever calc'lated on"
But what will you do II Sam amt IN
Denver" asked ths farmer.
Il hev put my faith in Providence"
she answered simply, and the stranger