Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1893-10-28
down THE ROAD TO THE
EMERSONS.
BY MARY E. WILKINS.

shaved.
Hiram GoodelI was a very cautious man.
HIS wife stood by and held his vest ready
Tor him to put on. Her hands twitched as
she watched him wipe his razor painstak-
lnsly with a bit of paper and then hold 1t
up 10 the light and squint at it to see If
II We're clean enough. She felt like snatch
ing the razor and shaving him herself.
FOR mercy sakes father, don't be so
long -winded!' said she. She was a sandy
haired woman, tall and broad shouldered
ana lean. Her blue eyes were weak, and
she narrowed them and wrinkled her brows
when sne talked. Hiram carefully scraped
around his mouth and held his lips firmly
pressed together. 1t was quite a time before
ne spoke, then the words came out with
the added impetus of repression. Il wish
you'd lay down that vest an go long bout
your work, mother" said he, IAN not stan
there watchin' me-"
stan here watchin' you'd like to know
II you'd ever get anywhere, father, II l
didn't foller you up. I'd jest like to know
what you would do"
The bell amt tolled yet"
Inc bell amt tolled! That's Jest the way
You talk, father. What if 1t amt, YOU can't
Walk down there under twenty minutes, an
You know 1t. An it's time for 1t to toll now
Ihis clocks ten minutes fast. But there you
stan as deliberate as If you'd got a week
before you"
Inc old man muttered something His
wife laid the vest on the table and the but
tons ratified.
wen, you can swear II you want to-"
said she, "a man as old as you be an pro-
fessin' what you do"
She turned herself about with a majestic
air.
/ want sweardn'. You say pretty hard
things, mother" The old mans tone was
suddenly humble and conciliatory
Il know what hear I've got ears"
III it's got so anybody can't speak with
out bein' told they're swearin', l guess i
might as well keep my mouth shut all the
time think You go most too far, mother "
Hiram now went to the sink, and
washed his face long and thoroughly; his
wife had turned the water into the tin basin
Tor him. She eyed him sharply when he had
dried his face on the roller towel.
Stan round here, father!" said she.
she dipped a corner Of the towel in water,
and dabbed theoretically at his ears. The
oid man stood still with his face screwed up.
finally he made break away from her.
AS fer standin' this. amt goin' tor
said he Il dunno what you think I'm made
of. mother"
She emptied the water from the t;n basin.
and put the soap back In the dish.
i guess you amt hurt very bad" she re-
turned. "I'd like to know what kind Of a
figure you'd cut to the folks that sit behind
you, If l didn't look out for you a little.
You don't have any more thought for your
ears than as IL they didn't belong to you.
Now don't stan round any longer, father.
hat are on the settin' room lounge, an I've
brushed 'em. Seems to me the bells tollin'
now"
But the bell had only just begun to toll
when Hiram Goodell had left his own yard
and was fairly out in the road. The long
bell tones came sweet and clear through the
frosty air. 1t was very cold for the season.
and there was no snow on the ground. The
road was frozen in great ridges The rough
ground hurt the old mans tender feet and
he stepped gingerly and toed In to save
them. He was large and numbering, and
could not walk easily. The church was half
mile away. and the Emersons' a quarter
Of a mile. Before he came to the Emersons'
he passed the house where the Lord sisters
lived. 1t was square white house with
four windows in front. Two belonged to
the sittingroom and two to the parlor. At
each Of the sittingroom windows a head
with a black lace cap and spectacles was
visible. The heads were bent down in a
peering attitude SO as to clear the obstruc-
tons Of the sashes; the spectacles them
selves seemed to squint curiousiy.
The old man. passing close under the win
dows. looked up and bowed gravely and
stiffiy.
always a-peekin'v' he thought to him
self with a slow masculine disapprobation
Of curious women. Hiram had never in his
life looked out of a window to see who was
passing, so far as he could remember.
Down the hill. and beyond the Lords with
no house between, was the Emersons'.
That was a one-story house. large on the
ground but very low. 1t had been painted
white, but 1t was row gray, the roof was
Tn
side yard were struggling wood pile and
an old farm wagon. Hiram did not look
squarely. but he took 1t all in. AS he passed,
he held up his head quite high, and toed out
firmly, in spite Of the frozen ground. He
did not appear to be looking. but he saw
quite plainly figure come to one of the
front windows. then start back; he saw the
front door open little way, then close with
jerk.
''They saw me comm. an went back"
he thought to himself.
When he was well past the house, the
door opened again, and an old man and a
young woman appeared They came out of
the yard and proceeded down the street.
behind Hiram, who dumped along with
solemn deliberation The bell had now
nearly stopped tolling, and the Eme-sons felt
in haste. They sat well toward the front
of the church. and were abashed when they
went in, IL 1t were late. But they could
not quicken their pace without overtaking
Hiram and they did not want to do that.
Foster Emerson had a weakly, nervous
gait. He walked with aiacrity, but when
he swung himself forward his knees ap-
peared to weaken under him. 1t was al
most like slight lameness His daughter
Fanny walked like him. Fanny was thin
and sharp-featured and pretty. She had a
lovely color on her cheeks that deepened
as she went on in the frosty air. Her stiff
black beaver coat hung straight halfway
to her knees; there were shiny lines around
the seams. where she had tried to remodel
it. She held her hands in a small old fash
toned fitch muff, and walked soberly on be-
side her father. Hiram in front of them
never quickened his pace at all. The bell
had quite stopped ringing when they reach
ed the church, and there were no people in
the vestibule; even the sexton had gone in
Hiram opened the door and tiptoed up the
aisle; his boots squeaked The Emersons
did not enter until he was fairly seated in
his pew. Then he did not appear to watch
them, but he saw them quite plainly. He
even noted a little red feather on Fanny
Emersons black straw hat, and wondered
how much 1t cost. 1t was so bright, he
sons were now very straitened in their cir
narrowly, and appraised jealousy every
thing they had. There was feud between
the two families, a New England feud
There was no blood shed; there would never
be any breaking of orthodox trammels, but
the Goodells and the Eme-sons had hated
each other stiflly and rigidy, after the true
manner of their puritan blood, for the last
ten years. There had been piece Of wood
land, whose possession was disputed. The
question had been carried to law, and
Foster Emerson had won the suit while