The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1893-02-04


on her way down the hillside. The
children should be in the home at last
and they should be hers, her adopted
children, to care for, work for, love
and pray over. A branch brushed her
head once. and swept off her hat and
let her hair loose. She had to stop and
twist it up. 1t was abundant still, but
there were threads of gray among the
brown, and Onner smiled little sadly.
They'll be growing up to take care
of me, too; for I'm aging. / can't deny
it; I'm growing old, or will be too
soon." she whispered, softly.
She knew what she was going for
now. A neighbo had stopped at her
gate that very morning while she was
busy in the garden.
Heard the news, Onner?"
mo; what is it?"
Powder mill blew up yesterday out
at the Hollow"
"You don't say! Anybody hurt?"
ayes, three men killed. Two of them
don't know about. The other one
was Tom Shannon"
"Tom Shannon! What, Roxy's hus-
band?'
"For sure. Isn't it dreadful? and
Roxy not dead three months yet; and
those three children left without father
or mother
Haven't they anybody"
.sThey say not. Roxy was an only
child, you know, and Toms sister died
out in California, and his brother, dear
knows what's become of him. Miss
Marsh was telling me they're real
pretty children, and good and quiet
too. They're good stock, you know.
Why, Toms father was deacon, and
| Roxy's folks had a minister among
them somewhere. All the same,
they're left now. But must go. The
dinner never'll get itself into my
kettle, though it seems to in some
folks. Come and see me, Onner, do"
She was off; and Onner. who had had
hard work TO keep her smiles hidden by
her sunbonnet, marched straight up to
her open kitchen door, and on into the
pantry, where she kneeled down by
the -four barrel and just cried out: 80
Lord, make me worthy. I'm not half
good enough to take care of the poor
orphans; but just let me have them,
and make me worthy"
Then she went up the short stairs.
There was a little room that the sit
ting room pipe went through. That
must be the boys room, and she raised
the white curtain, picked a stray Leaf
from the yellow-painted floor, aut
looked about.
II hope he'll be good boy" she sale
aloud.
Below, there were two small room.
opening from that same living room
One was her own, the other must bt
for her little girls. 81 can hear then
then if they're croopy at night, and it'll
be so handy when they have thu
whooping-cough and the measles. II
go out and pick lot more sage, too
all of them will want sight for thei
colds, and then the turkey, too
at Thanksgiving. I'm glad saved 10
of pennyroyal in the time of it. III
get piece of bright calico and cheer,
up things here for them. Dear hearts
seems if / couldn't wait"
You know now her errand, and tn
secret Jacob was wondering over.
A half mile before it reached the lii
tie village, the road was crossed by
railroad track, and Billy, having re
membranes of former experience
there. began to prick up his ears an
quite affect coltish ways.
''Guess I'll stop at Uncle Silas' an
see if it's about car-time," said Mis-
S rOnner, and turned up short lane to
S tiny house where Uncle Silas,"
S broken-down lay-preacher, lived wit
e his good wife. Once there it was cas-
!. to see there was trouble, for the worth
S couple were both in tears and only to
5; glad to unburden themselves
+ you see," said Auntie Silas, 18th
n town isn't willing to give us outsid
h help auy more, and we can't get alon
s without: so they say we must com
into that noisy Mill Falls, and they
o give us places In the Home"
e SWELL, II looks pleasant there" sai
l. Miss Unner.
III "Qh. is's ali uice enough, too uice,