Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1895-05-17
HER MORNING WALK.

turned up the street with hurried move
ment ns Ii she were n child running away
from school. At tho corner she got on a
car going out into tho suburbs, and once
settled back In the seat she bushed To
think OF tho rocklessness Of her resolve,
now that she had put IL fairly In motion.
She was little dressmaker living In tho
sixth story, and sho was sick and weary Of
the city, with all It's CRIME and noise-so
sick that the night before she had declared
90 herself she would go away from IL for
day at least and forget hor troubles and
the hard lifo she led In tho sweet, spring
time country.
Then she lay awake half the night won
dering at her hardihood In thinking OF
such n thing. But when morning came,
much to her own surprise, she was still as
determined as ever, and getting up early
she slipped out of tho hot house and away,
like prisoner escaped. 1t had been SO
long since she had seen the country like
this SO long since she had been anything
but weary, hard driven little slave of tho
needle, that as tho car whirled away past
cottages and palaces, past country places
and empty fields she laughed softly to
herself and took deep breath after breath
of the sweet pure air, as sparkling as
champagne. AT last when tho car reached
the end OF it's route and the conductor
went forward To help tho motorman turn
il about, she stepped off and walked brisk
ly along the road that led far over the hill.
"Oh, you sweet, sweet countryl" she
murmured to herself rs the new green
fields stretched away on either side and tho
. early morning breeZes swept her face with
their burden of natures perfume. "How
love you! What did leave, you for to go
into the city and work my life outY What
would not give to bc back again and to
live forever on the old farm"
II wonder where Tom, poor, dear old
Tom, faithful and loving and so true, Is
now?' she said to herself. 81 wonder If no
could think mo as dear as he once did now
that have had my foolish wish and gone
to the cityp Dear old Toni"
Yes, poor, Gear old Tom! The faithful
young fellow who had lived next to her
fathers broad acres before he died and tho
children went to the city, Kate included,
had loved her long and devotedly and had
tried to show her that she would be as
happy to marry him and live on the little
dairy farm as to go into the turmoil and
hurry of city life, but the headstrong lit
tic girl knew better then, and she listened
not to him.
Down the long road came little covered
milk wagon from one of the numerous
dairies that were to be seen there every
now and again, and sudden desire to
Jump in and ride with the milkman, who
ever he was, came over Kate. A moment
later the horse was pulled up sharply just
as it was passing her and the driver leaned
forward and looked Mt her with his honest,
handsome eyes filed with astonishment.
"Kater' he cried, his voice falling like
music upon her tired ears. "Is that you?
What Is the matterp"
And Kate blushing like rose, stam-
mered out something about just taking q
walk for her health.
"But why are you way out here?" said
Tom, scrambling down and going to her
vide, like the straightforward fellow OF old.
Tell me, Kate, arc you in troublep Is
anything wrongp Tell Tom, DEAR" he
Whispered before he could stop himself.
"TeN him oil about it, and perhaps he can
help you"
For moment Kate strove valiantly to
keep her self possession and turn the affair
off as natural occurrence, but at last 1t
was too much for her, and covering her
face with her hands she burst into tears.
Tom had seen her cry many times before,
but never like this, and with one look
about him he gathered her into his pro-
tecting arms and held her there.
II want to come back to the country,
Tom" she said between sobs II want to
leave tho hateful city and-and go back to
the old farm, and be q girl again. I am
tired Of working over dresses and cloaks
and things. want to get away from it
all and-and die. So thereP'
Tom smiled in his quiet, homely way,
but he replied gravely enough as she
pushed herself gently out Of his arms and
fell to wiping her eyes with her handlSer-
chief: "You are worn out with work,
Kate and what you need is rest. Don't
cry, that's n good girl, and perhaps we
can think up some way to make you feel
better. Come, get in the wagon, and let's
talk while we ride. I must be getting into
town with the milk, and want to help
you too"
Hardly knowing why she did so, the lit
tie dressmaker obeyed him, and then as
they travelled briskly along the road, with
the birds singing in the hedges and the
sun shining on the dew that lay over the
hill and dale, she told Tom all, unburden-
ing her heart as she had not done for three
h years past. BY the time she had finished
they were well into the suburbs, and it
was not until then that she realized how
long they had talked. Then she said:
II must get out here, Tom. 1t will look
so queer for me to be riding here with you,
and it Is late. There are dresses to be done
and work and work and work Let me get
out, please and I thank you SO much for
helping me get rid Of that awful lonesome
feeling"
But Tom did not lot her get out In
stead of that he slipped one arm about her
waist and pulled the horse around into n
little alley where pint of fresh, sweet
milk was to be delivered.
Kate" said no gently, "don't go back
to that work. Drop 1t all, for my sake,
and come with me. The little farm isn't
as big or as nice as the one you used to
live on, but it's got more love to the square
inch for you than dozen others would
havel 1t needs a girl like you to make
sunshine for 1t, Kate, and It wants you
now-today. Come back, Kate and be