The people's journal. (Pickens, S.C.) 1891-1903, 1895-09-12
A Delinquent Subscriber.
BY EMMA BENNETT.

July dAy> The heat was intense, and
al tine doors and windows OF John
Danes little unpainted farmb ouse
were open wide. John Danes farm'
house did l say? Had you asked any
one Of tho inhabitants for q radius ol
twenty miles round, who it was that
lived in the old-fashioned, tumble
down structure that stood ON the
poorest, most Improbable piece o,
land in the county, the answer "oula
have come prompt and unanimous,
twenty years ago now, since John
Dame had commenced gradually to
fade out of the minds OF his neig hbors,
as an actual existence. Matildy could
have told you the exact date.
"'rwenty years ago, come the 2lst Of
August, since John got his stroke"
Perhaps they had exhausted their
sympathy upon him that fatal day SO
long ago. Sympathy seems ever to
partako of the evanescent nature OF
the springtime blossom called suddenly
into being, beautiful and tender while
it lasts, but soon to die! John Danes
on form in the wheeled chair, drawn
out on the narrow little porch, had
grown to be as familiar u sight to the
passing farmers as Bill Jenkins wind
mill4-which was something of Il nine
days wonder a few years before and
elicited little more thought of pity.
Since the sun had slantcd low enough
in the heavens to keep it from shining
under cover of the porch into Johns
eyes, Matildy had drawn him out in
his wheeled chair. He sat there with
closed eyes and head resting back.
F1is face was calm with that enforced
calmness that years of helplessness
had worn there. He was an old man
now; past seventy, yet, despite the
living death of the last twenty years,
he was almost childlike in his repose.
Matildy came briskly around the
Ppm a-gOin, to get the chores done
early tonight. If you want anything,
just rap with this stick. 1 shan't be
gone only few minutes, anyhow"
John nodded and half opened his
eyes to gaze admiringly after her, as
she vanished at the end of the porch.
He had never cot over wondering at
her, that she was able to get along
without him. Matildy had been such
clinging, dependent sort Of n woman
He didn't understand that the very
nature that clung to him then would
cling to him now. Matildy was sixty
AS many woman of forty. Since her
husbands misfortune twenty years
before, she had supported the family,
making garden, doing the farm chores,
aelling eggs and butter and cottage
cheese and driving to town during the
summer, and daily disposing of her
wares from house to house. 1t was
her activity that had kept them long
ago from the poor-house. Tonight
when she had finished the milking,
John heard her come in the back door
Of the house and begin setting the
table for supper.
Matildy," he called softly:
shs wuyat tny oe" Sn"c .".,tbis lis 'n9tfS coutS
How patient, how unwearying she had
always been with him.
"Ain't it the night for the paper?"
he asked wistfully.
Lemme see-yes, 'tis. Friday
night, of course"
You're too tin ed, amt you, and it's
too hot "-he began hesitatingly.
"No, amt too tired" she interrupt
ed, and it'll be cooler after supper.
III have you wipe the dishes so | can
get started sooner"
This was an innocent little fabrica-
tion of Matildys to make him believe
he was doing her great service. In
those first awful days, and weeks,
when he would wear himself out with
his fate and great sobs
would break from him to see the hard
work that+she aid, and he helpless as
to divert the flood of his despair by
saying: G4y.
"Now, see here, John Dame, mono of
4 l.; l., {D do To1 30,
cheap, anyhow, why don'ty you do some-
thing to help mo instead of taking on
about things you can't help. Just
take hold of this towel and wipe these
and she had wheeled his chair
mp to the table in q trice. John was
very clumsy at first, but it delighted
his soul to do something, and Matildy
had enlarged upon "the big help it
was "-she "didn't mind the washing,
but she always did hate to wipe dishes"
- until John had come to believe that
80 long as he wiped the dishes, the
rest of Matildy's work was a compara-
lively light matter. Now u CLEAN cf
pleasure shot over his pale face, and he
again sank back and closed his eyes.
"Poor John !" Matildy sighed to
herself. "The papers about the only
pleasure he gets out of life."
CS, poor oOnn anu poOt mdGlluy
Dear, loving unselfsh old woman
She was tired, and it was SO hot, and
the walk to the post-oflice was q mile
and half over dusty country roads
1t hardly seemed to her that she could
drag her weary feet all the way there
But II it would give John any pleasure,
this had been the supreme object in
Matildy DANES life for twenty long
years-is it likely that q walk Of
mile and half would deter her now ?
She hurried about tho supper, and
when they had dispatched it together,
che hastily "picked up the dishes !"
and rinsed them through the hot
water, while John seated at her side,
dish-towel in hand, wiped them care
fully.
eff ia thought about the paper"
she said reflectively, 81 might have
sent by Fred Thompson. saw him q
driving by with the bay colt long in
the afternoon, guess he was going ~
MILL"
Matildy, now If it's a-going to be
too much for ye," tho old man inter-
rupted an nxiOusly--
ooh, shucks !" and Matildy gully
tied the strings of her checked sun
bonnet under her chin, and with q
decisive nod at her better half, came
and drew him out on the cool porch
o-,f,, oxl %lo,, ,tn oT l., rb I 10