The free press. (Poplarville, Miss.) 1890-19??, 1892-05-19
diversion. To Abby the words were
mere quantatlve signs.
The widow Barker, with her way

The widow Barker, with her way
ward son Jim, were Abby's nearest
neighbors. Barker pere had served in
the navy. After his death a small
pension came regularly, affording the
| widow meagre living. 1t was her
sole support, for Jim was a thorn.
Upright mothers quoted him to chill
dren as a warning. He even pricked
Abbyountil she was half minded to
report his lapses to his mother, when
she would fall in temper and rate
herself roundly.
.Gold shoes, indeed! l don't de-
serve leather. As if that woman didn't
have trouble enough without its being
piled on free! Providence has been
| too good to me; there's nobody to
mourn over; nobody TO worry over.
A little cross like this will do me
good"
Abby had intended to stop for a
moments chat with the widow, but
the house appeared deserted, and she
passed on.
"Its pension day." she thought. 81
know where she is. Upstairs crying
for him that's gone. Blue-blue as
she can be. HIM! Pm blessed that
my past don't sorrow me, nor my
future either. There it is nowI Mil
lion minute! Gold-heeled shoes !
Keep it up!"
Abby spoke of wealth with rich
exaggeratlon. Her ideal independence
was simply freedom from debt.
She had one desire that ruled her life
and that, to possess home. The
knowledge that her landlord might,
on lapse of payment, turn her out,
rode her as sense of inferiority. Her
material standing seemed as insecure
as her credit. But to own the ground
she walked on, that was to wear gold
heeled shoes. Every step left the
impress of wealth's equality. All
her efforts. then, were directed to the
reduction of the insufferable mortgage
that threatened her home.
She labored hard in every channel
known 10 her countryw She
picked and sold berries. She gathered
and cured sweet-fag. She had a
patch of arden with many herbs in
it, and others she gathered wild and
sold in punches for the druggists and
medicine-makers. She stitched boots
when that seldom work offered. She
knit and sewed. She did not know
an idle moment the year round.
By years of patient toll Abby had
reduced the amount of the mortgage
to one hundred dollars. And one
night, when she looked at her bank
book and counted the days receipts,
she found enough to cancel the debt.
1t was a matter of yerification only,
for she knew to cent the state of her
finances.
Pardonably she wept a little that
her work was accomplished. The
goal was reached she had set, and be-
yond which she had not before looked.
Now she was brought face to face
with darkness. Whittier should she
wander through it, and what should
she strive for? She asked herself
these questions, for it was borne in
upon her that the old desire was a
thing of the past, being gratified, and
that she must discover a new one.
Through anticipation, her hope had
mirrored brightly, but now she found
its reverse side dull and with the dis
appointment mingled bitter surprise
that it was so.
The widow broke in upon this con-
JN'~Nip o1NuSSo WIN iSdl INihS ooi-
row of her own. She was crying, and
all Abby's heart-tenderness went out
TO her at once, for the widow was a
proud little woman, and had kept her
griefs at home until now, fairly driven
for consolation to Abby's kindly arms.
And there she lay and sobbed her
story-how Jim had been placed
under bonds and had broken them,
and could not pay and must go away
10 some prison. Little by little she
laid bare the trial of desolate years,
and Abby listened sympathetically.
"Jim conld get away" said the
widow, che would go into the navy,
as his father did. Jim always wanted
TO, but | couldn't let him go; he is all
l have. He can do nothing else, and