Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1893-12-21
men asked laughingly.

The weather was very sultry The
Jagged peaks of Castle CrayS stood
bare and gray against the deep blue
sky. Not a breeze stirred Even the
river moved sluggiShly, like oil. July
had been ushered in by Il north wind,
and that always means dry, eneryating,
| lifeleSS heat.
| The ladies lOunged around the tavern
! piazza in cool white muslin, with
palmleaf fans and iced lemonades near
at hand, and growled vehemently.
The fishermen wiped the perspiration
from their foreheads, assorted their
| flies, and each tried To outvie the other
| i'll new fish stories
! Mary Fenton sat Il little to one side.
overcome by the heat, and giving up
! the idea of seeing Kit that day Again
her book lay idly in her lap, and she
sat dreaming.
Coming up the road in the hot, daz-
zling sun, Kit walked slowly through
the dust her hands clasped together
and her eyes staring intently down at
the ground. She walked SO slowly she
seemed hardly to move.
Miss Mary" She spoke in hollow
tones, without looking up. Miss
! Mary, I've come to tell YOU Bits
gone-last night Nothing but duh
apathy in her face, not sob to break
the silence. She stood full in the heat
Il broken, hfelesS figure.
Mary Fenton started L did not
= think that it would be so soon. dear"
! She Went down the steps. close TO the
Girl and took her hand. Come out OF
! the sun. Come
Kit raised her eyes. Il depth of sad
= reproach i'll them. DO you think l
would leave him now, Miss Mary"
she continued in the same monotonus
tone, as Miss Fenton FASTENED to get
her hat to accompany her: 'Don's
come, Miss Mary. / would rather YOU
would not. l must be alone, for this
little WHILE" she faltercd. Mother.
lows we must get along home day
after tomorrow, and we must leave
; him. / came to you-to fix things"
| Mary FentOn pressed her hand warm
~ in hers in assurance of help.
IF you wouldn't mind, Miss Mary,
couldn't it be where he might see the
! mountain? You know, I can see it Mt
home, and it would be something fer
us both to have together"
! Yes, dear child, l will do anything
! for you
| Mary Fenton's eyes were Drumming
over with tears as she stood still in
the sunshine and watched the young
/ figure, bent with grief, disappear slow,
ly among the pines.
such devotion, such unselfishness.
such bravery, is godlike," she murmur-
ed to herself. She asked for nothing
and gave everything-poor child"
! Miss FentOn attended to Kits re-
QGest, and the day after Bill was laid
at rest on Il hillside, where the CLEAN
of Shasta could always be seen.
The next morning she went TO the
camp and found Mrs. Jones busily
+ packing up, more cheerful than usual.
The tents We're down and Kit was lift
ing the heavy things with her strong
young arms and tying them into the
wagon. She wore the same old blouse
and cigarette hat, but all the buoyancy
was gone from her face. She was
! very quiet as she called Miss Fenton
! aside and united an old stocking.
Il want to pay you for-everything.
mo, child. 1 can never repay you,
Kit"
Kit gaZed at her with look Of dazed
inquiry, then went on Harvesting the
old raw-honed horse and hitched him
to the wagon.
sit will be lighter drivin' bone"
Mrs. Jones observed, as she tucked the
last blanket around the frying pan.
Mary Fenton never forgot the look
Of mute agony that crept into Kits
big soft eyes as she looked at her moth,
CT. Then she pulled her hat further
down over her face with the same old
gesture, as she clambered into the
high seat of the wagon and took the
reinS, while her mother got up beside
her.
You will have long, hot drive"
/ Miss Fenton said, stupidity.
"Oh, We'll stop with folks over night,
and it will be real pleasant" Mrs,
Jones answered, tying her sun-bonnet
strings.
Mary FentOn climbed up on the wa
gOn wheel and kissed Kit warmly and
W hiSpored. III take some Shasta
: lilies to his grave. I will remember"
Then Il cracking Of the long willow
switch that served for a whip, the old
horse started up, and they were gone.
Mary Fenton watched the bobbing
of the short reddish curls amid the
clouds Of dust until a turn i'll the road
hid them; then she sat down under
= the pine, covered her face with her
hands. and cried.
! She sat there for some time. At
| last she heard a fOCtstep cracking the
dried pine needless and looked up.
''Dickr' she exclaimed with start,
and began, woman-like, smoothing the
ruffied hair on her forehead.
II thought you were never going to
write, so [ came to you" He held Gus
his hand to her. Il came on the morn
ing train, missed you at the tavern, and
was told that you were over in this
direction, helping some protegees of
yours. Crying! little woman He
caught sight of her tear-stained face,
then taking it between both his hands,
he said tenderly, "Now, Mary tell me,
have you decidcdP'
The answer came very family. Eyes
Dick" Then half 70 herself she re-
peated Kits hOmely words, eff folks