The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1895-09-25

scattered-tne older chlldren gone
back TO school, the little ones safe in
the back yard-and the after-dinner
work was out of the way, Mrs. Redd
repaired to the living-room, and de-
liberately sat herself down to think.
She sat long time, her hands fold
ed in her lap. her face twisted in
varying emotions. Finally she arose
decisively, and went to her bare little
bedroom.
She put on her best gown, black
cashmere, thin and old, but neat as
brushing and careful mending could
make it; then, with reverent fingers,
she took out her Sunday bonnet. II
was straw of antique shape, aud its
few limp bows of rusty Grape bespoke
her widowhood.
She went out the front door, lock-
ing it after her and putting the key in
her pocket.
"Mammyl mammyl Where you
doin'?" shouted Totty's sturdy little
lungs.
"Never mind, mammy's baby Stay
in the yard and be q good girl.
Mammy'll be back pretty soon"
The soft summer eky was very blue
overhead, the air was full of sweet
scents and sounds, and the afternoon
sunshine lay golden on the dusty road
as Mrs. Redd went up the hill to the
minister's.
The minister sat In his study. He
had been trying to write his sermon,
but somehow the words would not
come. He was late about the sermon
this week. 1t had been pushed off
from day to day in q very unusual
manner until Friday afternoon. So
the minister had shut himself up, and
was vainly endeavoring to bring his
mind to bear on n severely doctrinal
discourse.
But he had so much else to think Of /!
At last, with sigh, he laid his gray
head down on the desk before him
and gave himself up to his trouble.
He though of the bright hopes that
had vanished with his savings; he
thought of the letter he had sent that
morning. This was the hardest blow
of all-the letter that told his son
Eric that he could not have another
year in college. Eric, who was to have
been his best message to the world
Eric, who led his classes, and whose
ambition was to be minister ''like
father |"
He thought of his tired wife's face,
and of the many little ones to bring
up and fittingly educate, and his heart
failed him.
SO the minister's mind wandered
farther and farther from the argu-
ments of his sermon, and his tired
head lay still on his outstretched arm.
The afternoon sun, getting we'll
toward the west, stole in, sending
shafts of dusty light through the
shaded room.
The sounds of children's voices,
shrill and happy in out'of-door free
dom, hoated in at the open window.
The blank sheets of paper lay on the
desk, waiting for the sermon that
would not be written. Suddenly the
the study door opened.
"Tm SO sorry to disturb you, John,
said Mrs. Day, laying a gentle hand
on the bowed head, "but there's a
woman here who says she must see
you"
"Is that you, Mary?" said the min
lister, Strengthening up and resuming
his pen with busy air. "Well, who
is 1t, dear?"
SITS Mrs. Redd, the washerwoman
who lives in the Hollow. You remem-
Der her husband was killed at the mill
last year. hate to interrupt you SO,
but she said she must see you"
"Never mind, wife. Send her in. "
The minister gave o little sigh. He
felt that the world was full of vexing
troubles, and that he must help bear
them all. Even the smallest burden
seemed too heavy to add to his own.
In came Mrs. Redd-a smlll black
figure which seemed to shrink into the
shadows, and which timidly seated it
self on the edge of the most uncom-
Portable chair in the room.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Redd. You
must have had warm walk up the
hill, r." said the minister.
"Well, sir, it was a triae wazm. But
didn't feel it any to speak of, and
it's first-rate drying weather"
Then ensued long silence, in which
Mrs. Redd nervously worked the fin
gers of her black cotton gloves, and
the minister wished that she would
come to the point.
"Are you and your little ones all
well, Mrs. Redd?" inquired the min
lister.
"Oh yes, sir. There's nothing the
matter with us, Anyway, nothing to
trouble you about, sir" Again the
conversation tagged.
"What can l do for you, my good
woman?" said the minister, as he
thought of the unwritten pages on
his desk.
"Well, sir, l don't know just how
to get at it. You're always doing for
us-I sha'n't ever forget what you did
for me when Redd died. feel dread
full about the trouble that has come
on you"
The minister WINGED just a little.
1t was q subject he was not anxious to
converse upon. But he answered
cheerily:
at was very kind OF you to come
all this way to bring me your sympathy,
Mrs. Redd."
"Thero's something else l want to
say, sir, if you won't take offence at
my being so bold. know what hard
times are, and not to have any money