The San Francisco call., 1896-03-22

/ looked Ddck al Tue WOllld. Ii
the doorway with her hand over her eyes,
watching the train, wondered II 1t could
be possible that there was my sister s
home. Nothing more desolate could be
imagined than the little wooden shanty
standing alone in pitiful baroness ON the
Nebraska prairie, surrounded only by
fields of sun-dried grass. l had heard how
lonely it was and how unfortunate my
sister and her husband had been, but as
was an inexperienced optimist with no
troubles of nay own to make me realize
those of other people, had put on supe-
rior air, and thought it s'would come out
all right"
NV time for vacation had arrived, and
was to spend couple of weeks here.
There was no necessity for my sister and
her husband taking so dark a view of
things, thought. The crops had failed,
to be sure, but such matters were all in a
lifetime, and should not be taken too
seriously.
1 had telegraphed my brother-in-law to
meet me, and here he was at the station.
The bronzed features under his wide straw
hat were so hard and the lines about his
gray eyes were so drawn that l could
hardly recognize in him the young fellow
who had taken his bride from our home
laughing, and although his face was tanned
it was not so blackened as now. And
where was the air of buoyant courage that
had assured US Gertrude's life would be
made easy for her?
He smiled when he saw me, but it was
not the glad, spontaneous smile | had ex-
pected to see. / was sorry that | had
7
them before; perhaps they did not want
me. The men in faded brown jeans hang
ing about the station m opped their faces
and stared at me. | began to fear l had
done myself an injustice in coming out
here where it was hot and uncomfortable.
My work for the next year would suffer
should | not secure the rest needed. Why
mad not gone on with the camping party
for Estes Park, where the noun tain air
would have given me the strength l
needed? But | was fated now and would
not think of shortening my visit, so l as
sumed an air of enthusiasm and handed
my check to Marion.
While he was attending to the baggage /
climbed into the wagon. The seat was not
comfortable Icould not touch the bottom
of the wagon with my feet, but braced
them on the front endgate. 1t would be
very hot riding five miles, even with my
paraso, but l must be cheerful about it.
The road was barren, without tree to al
ford the least shelter. For a time we were
silent. Finally | said:
"How is Gertrude2 Does she get very
lonesome? / thought 1 might be able to
cheer her up a little"
All the while l felt my heart growing
fainter. For the first time | seemed to
realize what her discouragement must be.
It had been easy for us to sit in our cot
tage at Englewood and plan a free, happy
life for her with the man she loved, and
with no care except that of being poor.
Marion was not thoroughly established,
but he had good business ability and was
energetic.
"Oh. Gertrude is all right. guess" be
responded. "We have been in rather hard
luck this year. Everything burned up,
and there is no prospect for anything bet
ter that one can see."
They had written me as much, but l
had been exceedingly cheerful with my
$75 month in pleasant Office. l wrote
them in reply that discouragements come
to all of US, but that there is no use being
down-hearted. They should remember
the grasshopper year. People had lived
through that. 1t would have been very
hard TO say this now to the man sitting
beside me with the drawn look about his
eyes.
l felt faint and overcome with the heat,
for my journey had been long and tire
some. | wished the horses would move
faster, but there was no life in the poor,