The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1894-12-20


that felt to lay 1t up agen her that
she was niece to old Jacob Hart that
was always suspected of that mort
gage fraud. And when she came here
to take care of him when he was dy-
ing and then lived on in that little
mite of house he'd left her, why.-if
haven't done a neighbor's part by
her, which l haven't-may the Lord
forgive mel"
'sYou needn't talk" said Miss Abb
gail. MANY and many's the time I've
went by there and see her settin' alone
lookin' out in such kind of q pitiful
way--likc she was longin' for some
one to come in and be little sociable
with her. / thought hadn't time,
and / hadn't-much-but might a.
made time and been none the worse
for it, 0 me! 1t was an opportunity
and now it's gone from me. She was
a stranger and didn't take her in."
Left to herself an hour later Mrs.
Brewster sat face to face with h,r
lost opportunity, and with every
thought the sting of self-reproach grew
deeper.
"She was SO poor and didn't hold
out hand to her. I might have
stopped for her as drove by to
church. when 1 knew she was often
kept to home by her lameness. l
meant to send her apples and things
and didn't. thought sometimes of
sending her my religious paper when
I'd done reading it-and let the time
Slip"
There was shiver of excitement as
Miss Abigail Meeker pressed through
the village on her way home, telling
her startling news.
Does any life go out among us-poor
careless procrastinators that we are
without leaving behind its train of
bitter thought of what we might have
done apd did not do? Of the words
which might have been spoken to ears
now closed, of acts which might have
brought comfort and cheera May we
be pitied in our aching for sound
from dumb lips in acknowledgment of
blessing which should have been be-
stowed-in our craving for time, time,
time in which to do the thousand and
one things which never now can be
done!
More than one turned with dimming
eyes toward the window from which
the patient face had looked out.
81 meant to carry some O. them
flower seeds to her. She'd "a liked
'em-she set such store by flowers
81 could "a stopped and plowed up
her bit of garden just as well as
not"
why didn't I invite her to my
quiltin'9"
II might" 81 could have
meant to-" 81 wish had" "Why
didn't I--?"
Miss Susan Petit was brought home
to the little house for the funeral.
Crushed and broken-the plain. sealed
coffin borne reverently among those
to whom the awful thing came as the
excitement of a lifetime. Hysterical
sobs and wailing were heard as flowers
were piled over the still form.
II didn't bring one of 'em, said Mrs.
Brewster, pointing to them in half-in-
dignant agitation. "No, didn't. I've
read piece poetry about layin
flowers IN folkses' graves--and----Ss
Mrs. BREWSTER cholxed--s.ncver layin
deeds of loving-kindness onto their
lives. And--have you read the piece
about her in the paper? All about the
sweetness and loveliness? Queer, hain't
it?" with gasping laugh, shat no.
body seemed to find it out till No,
you don't catch me carryin' flowers to
her grave. They might "a comforted
her liyin'."
The house was shut and locked after
the funeral, its closed blinds bearing
a mournful look to those who passed.
1t was said that it had fallen to dis
tant connection of Miss Susan, but no
one knew certainly.
Three weeks later an unpretentious,
habby-neat little figure left the after
noon train and walked with limp
ing steps up the street of the small
village, followed by wide-staring. won
dering eyes.
Z "Hey?"
"That amt Susan Pettitv'
"Well, If she want dead I'd say
twas"
"But she is dead"
II don't care-it's her, anyways"
Miss Susan went quietly up to the
door of the little house. still drcary
with its closed windows, took the key
from her pocket and opened it.
sit was all mistake" !" she said, her
face zbeaming in appreciation of ths
cordiality with which the amazed
neighbors crowded about her. .'I
wasn't hurt mite, but they got
names mixed up. And didn't try to
set things right, because. you see,
there wasn't anybody it would mako
any difference to. except the folks be-
longin' to the poor soul that's dead.
And they don't know yet who it was in
that-Ah, mer'
Miss Susan shuddered at the dread
full memory.
30, Susan, it does-it did make a
difference" cried Abigail Meeker, wip-
ing her eyes. Where have you been
all this time-as it seems pretty sure
ct -,