The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1892-06-23


Alta cross roads, as they went swiftly
on, she saw the old sorrel horse, the
rattling 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 wen,
on so fast that could not 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 a kindly conductor bought
her through ticket for Denver.
TITS a long journey for an old lady
like you," he said.
But I'm peart for my age, she said,
anxiously; II never he'd a days sick
ness since l was gal"
'Going all the way alone9"
with Prcvidence," she 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 of her life
as she looked back on them.
Thy works is marvellous" she tnur=
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 SO long.
In the day coach the people were k 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, to grizzled
men and weary women, like the mem
DRY of a dead mother as faint and far
away as the scent of wild roses in a
hillside country burying-ground. She
tended babies for tired women and
talked to the men of farming and crops,
or told the children Bible stories; but
never a word she said of herself, not
one.
On again, guided by kindly hands
through the great, bewildering city by
the lake, and now through a yet
stranger land. Tired and worn by night
in the uncomfortable seats, her brave
spirit began to fail a little. AS the
wide, level plains, lonely and drear,
dawned on her sight, she sighed often.
ITS a dre'ful big world" she said to
a 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 as the day wore on, and still the
long, monotonous land showed nc
human habitation, no oasis of green,
her eyes dimmed, something like sob
rose under the black 'kerchief on the
bowed shoulders, and the spectacles
were taken off with trembling hand
and put away carefully in the worn tin
case.
"Be we goin' fur, mother?" said the
old farmer.
He had brought her cupful of cot
fee at 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, I'll be bound?'
"From Maine," she answered, and
then she grew communicative, for she
was always chatty old lady, and she
had possessed her soul in silence so
long, and it was lief to tell the story
of her weary years of waiting to kind
ly listener,
She told him all the relations she had
were two grandnephews and their fam
lilies, That twenty years ago Sam (for
she had brought them both up when
their parents died of consumption, that
takes SO many of our folks) 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 she should
always have home, otherwise he
would have gone away too. Well, for
five years they were happy, when John
married, and his wife had grown to
think her burden as the years went
on, and the children when they grew
big did not care for her, and she felt
she had lived too long
I'growed so lonesome" she said, lit
seems couldn't take up heart to live
day by day. an yit I knowed our folks
was long-lived. Ten years back, when
Sam wrote me he was doin' fair, an
sent me money, I begun to think of
him, for he was allus generous an kind,
an the gratefulest boy; an so I began
to save to go to him. fur I knowed l
could work fur my board fur a good
many years to come. Fur three years
he amt hardly wrote, but laid that to
the wild kentry he lived in. I said
bars an lnjuns don't skeer me none,
fur when l was a gal up in Aroostuk
kentry there was plenty of both, an as
fur bufferlers, them horned cattle don t
skeer me none, fur I've been used to a
farm allus. But the lonesomeness of
these medders has sorter upset me, an
made me think every day Sam was fur
Their off than ever calc'lated on"
But what will you do if Sam amt in
Denver?" asked the farmer
81 hev put my faith in Providence, "
she answered simply, and the stranger
could not mar that trust by any word
OF warning.
He gave her his address as he got off
at the Nebraska line, and told her. to
send him word if she needed help.
With warm hand clasp he parted from
her to join the phantoms in her memory
of folks that had bin kind to her, God
bless EN-" and the train went rumb-
ling on its way.
But many of the passengers had lis
tened to her story and were interested,
and they came to sit with her.
One pale little lad in the seat in front
turned around to look at her now and
then and to answer her smile He
was going to the new country for health
and wealth, poor lad, only to find eter-
nal rest in the sunny land, but his last
days frightened by the reward of his
thoughtful act of kindness.
'She probably brought these boys
up, he thought, land denied her life
for them. Is she to die unrewarded,
wonder? There cannot be any good in
the world if that be-"
He thought of her and took out his
poor purse; there was so little money in
it, too: every cent made big hole in his
store; but the consciousness of a good
deed was worth SOrnefhinr