The Red Cloud chief., 1896-11-20

| ing to be a charge to others now. Oh,
Il she could only die in her own house
and not suffer the pain of homeless
ness and dependence!
1t was just at sunset, and as she
locked out hopelessly across the gray
fields, there vas a sudden CLEAN of
light far away on the low hills beyond.
The clouds opened in the west and let
the sunshine through. One lovely
CLEAN shot swift as an arrow and
frightened a far cold hillside where it
fell, and at the same moment a sudden
gleam OF hope frightened the winter
landscape of her heart.
There was Johnny Harris said
Mary Ann. softly. "He was a soldiers
son, left an orphan and distressed. Old
John Mander scolded, but | couldn't see
the poor boy want. | KEEP him that
year after he got hurt. spite o. what
anybody said. an he helped me what
little he could. He said | was the only
mother he'd ever had. I'm goin' out
West. Mother Robb.' says he. L shan't
come back till | get rich, an then he'd
iOch "N NV an laugh, 81 DltdSill III
boyish. He want one that liked to
write. ! don't think he was dom very
well when | heard-there, it's years
ago now. | always thought If he got
sick or anything, | should have a good
home for him. There was Ezra Blake,
l the deaf one, too-he won't have any
place TO ONE to"
The light faded ont of doors, and
again Mrs. Robb's troubles stood before
her. Yet it was not s o dark as 1t had
been In her sad heart. She still sat
by the window, hoping now. in spite of
herself. instead of fearing: and a curl
GUS feeling of nearness and expectancy
made her feel not so much light-heart-
ed as light-headed.
II feel just as if somethin' was goin'
to happen she said. Poor johnny
Harris, perhaps he's thinkin' O. me. IL
he's alive"
1t was dark now out OF doors, and
there were tiny clicks against the win
dow. 1t was beginning to snow, and
the great elms creaked in the rising
wind overhead.
A dead limb of one OF the old trees
had fallen that autumn, and poor fire.
wood as it had been, 1t was Mrs. Robb's
own. and she had burnt it most thank
fully. There was only q small armful
left, but at least she could have the
luxury of a fire. She had a feeling
that it was her last night at home, and
with strange recklessness she began to
fill the stove as she used 10 do in better
days.
I'll get me good an warm" she
said, still talking TO herself, as lonely
people do. AN I'll 20 to bed early. It's
comm on to Storm" The snow
clicked faster and faster against the
window. and she sat alone thinking
in the dark.
There's lots o folks | love-" she
said once. They'd be sorry l amt got
nobody to come an no supper the night
afore Thanksgivin'. I'm dreadful glad
they don't know" And she drew a lit
tie nearer to the fire, and laid her head
back drowsily in the old rocking-chair.
1t seemed only a moment before there
was a loud knocking, and somebody
lifted the latch of the door. The fire
shone bright through the front of the
old stove and made a little light in
the room, but Mary Ann Fobb walked
up frightened and bewildered.
Who's there?" she called, as she
found her crutch and went to the door.
She was conscious Of only her one
great fear. They've come to take me
to the poorhouse!" she said, and burst
into tears.
There was a tall man, not John Man
der, who seemed to fill the narrow door
way.
Come. let me in" he said gayly. ITS
a cold night. You didn't expec me.
did you, Mother Robb?"
Dear me! What Is it," she faltered.
stepping back as he came in and drop
ping her crutch. BE | dreamin'? !
was a-dreamin' about Oh there.
What was | a-sayin'? 'Tain't true! No!
I've made some kind of a mistake"
Yes, this was the man who kept the
p%oorhouse, and she would go without
complaint; they might have given her
notice, but she must not fret.
"Sit down, sir" she said. turning to-
ward him with touching patience.
You'll have to give me a little time.
II I'd been notified ! wouldn't have
kept you waiting a minute this cold
night" 1t was lot the keeper. The
nan by the door took one step forward
and put his arm round her and kissed
her.
What are you talkin' about?" said
John Harris. you amt goin' to make
me feel like a stranger, I've come all
the way from Dakota to spend Thanks
givin'. There's all sorts O things out
here in the wagon, an a man to help
get 'em in. Why-don't you cry so,
Mother Robb. l thought you'd have a
great laugh II ] come an surprised you.
Don't you remember | said l should?"
1t was John Harris indeed. The poor
soul cOull saw nnthinp Sha falt pow