Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1895-10-17
THE SILENT SISTERS.
BY L ZAN0WILL.

hi l. ZAN0WILL
They had quarreled In girlhood, and
mutually declared their intention
never 10 speak ~ each other again,
wetting and drying their foreangers
10 the accompaniment Of an ancient
childish Incarnation; and while they
lived on the psternal farm they kept
their foolish oath with the stubborn.
ness Of slow country stock, despite
the alternate coaxing and chsstise.
ment OF their parents, notwithstand-
Ing the perpetual everyday contact Of
their lives, through every viciasitude
Of season and weather, Of sowing and
reaping, Of sun and shade, Of Joy and
sorrow. Death and misfortune did
not reconcile them, aud when their
father died, and tie old farm was sold
up, they travelled To London In the
same silence, by the same train, In
search Of similar situationA Service
separated them for years, although
there was only stones throw be-
tween them. They often stared at
each other In the streets. Honor, the
elder, married . loyal artisan, and two
ind half yesrs later Mercy, the
younger, married . fellow.workman Of
James husband. The two husbands
were friends, and often visited each
others houses, which were on oppo-
site sides Of the same sordid street.
and their wives made them welcome.
Neither Honor nor Mercy suffered an
allusion to the breach; II was under.
stood that their silence must be re-
ceived In silence. Each Of the sisters
had quiverful oishildren, who played
and quarreled together In the streets
and IN one snothtrs houses, but not
even the street lffrays and mutual
grievances OF the children could pro-
woke the mothers 10 words They
stood 1t their doors in impotent fury,
almost bursting with the torture Of
keeping their moushs shut against the
ahervescence Of angry speech. When
either lost q child, the other wstshed
the funeral from her window, dumb o.
the muteA
Tho years rolled on, and still the
river Of silence flowed between their
livea Their good looks faded; the
burden Of life and Of collaborating was
heavy upon them. Gray hairs streaksd
their brown trcssAs, then brown hairs
strcalsed their gray tressos. The
Fuckers Of ago replaced the dimples Of
youth. Tho years rolled on, and death
grew busy among the families. Honor's
husband died, and Mercy lost o son,
who died week after his wife. Chol.
era took several Of the younger chill
dren. But the sisters themselves lived
on, bent and shrivcled by toll and sor-
row even more than by the slow frost
Of the years
Then one day Mercy took to her
dssth.bed An internal disease, too
long neglected, would carry her of
within week. 30 the doctor told
Jim, AIercy's husband.
Through him the news Travelled to
Ilonors eldest son, who still lived with
her. by the evening 1t reached
Honor
She went upstairs abruptly when he
told her, leaving him wondering at her
stony aspect When she came down
she was bonnsted and shswled. lie
was filled with Joyous amaze to see
her hobblo across tho street. and. for
the first time In hsr life, pass over her
sister Mercy's threshold.
AS Honor entered the sick.room,
with pursed lips, a light leapt into
the wasted. wrinklod countcnance OF
the dying creature. She raised her.
sell slightly In bed, her lips parted,
then shut tightly and her face dark
encd.
Honor turned angrily to Mercys
husband, who hung about impotently. |
why did you lot her run down 30
low?' she sad, ~ didn't know" the
old man stammered, takcn back by her
presence even more than by her qucs'
ton she was always woman to
say nothln'.'
Honor put him 'mpat'ently aside and
examined the medicine 'po.tle on the
bedside table.
isn't II time she TOOK her dose1'
Il dessay'"
Honor snorted wrath'ully. What's
the use OF amanY' sDe inquired as she
carefully measured ou' 'Ae nu'a anu
pus ~ 70 her s's@r Ups wnlch opened
70 receive IL ana 'hen closed lightly
AGAIN ~,
now "you wllelceiihR now Hon '
OF asReo A''er apause' 4
now are you now Mercy asked
inc ola man. awAwaraiy, lhe old