The Yale expositor. (Yale, St. Clair County, Mich.) 1894-current, 1896-11-27


ing to be charge to others now. oh,
If 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
looked out hopelessly across the gray
fields, there was a sudden CLEAN or
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 sudden
CLEAN 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 l couldn't see
the poor boy want. l 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. 1 shan't
come back till get rich an then he'd
look at me an laugh. so pleasant an
boyish. He want one that liked to
write. l don't think he was dom very
we'll when / heard-there, it's years
ago now. ] always thought II he got
sick or anything, should have good
home for him. There was Ezra Blake,
the deaf one, too-he won't have any
place 10 come to"
The light faded out OF doors, and
again Mrs. Robbs troubles stood before
her. Yet it was not so dark as it 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 II had been, ii was Mrs. Robb S
own, and she had burnt 1t most thank
fully. There was only small armful
left. but at least she could have the
luxury of fire. She had q feeling
that it was her last night at home, and
with strange recklessness she began 10
fiji the stove as she used to do in better
days.
"Pn get ME good an warm" she
said. still talking TO herself, as lonely
people do. AN I'll go to bed early. It's
comm on to storm" The snow
clicked faster and faster against tn,
window. and she sat alone thinking
in the dark.
There's lots O. folks l love-" she
said once. They'd be sorry i amt go
nobody to come an no supper the nigh
afore Thanksgivin'. I'm dreadful glat
they don't know" And she drew a lit
tie nearer to the fire, and laid her heat
back drowsily in the old rocking-chair
II seemed only moment before Their,
was a loud knocking and somebod!
lifted the latch of the door. The fire
shone bright through the front of thu
old stove and made little light IL
the room, but Mary Ann Robb wakeC
up frightened and bewildered.
Who's there?" she called, as sh'
found her crutch and went to the door
She was conscious of only her on
great fear. They've come to take m
to the poorhouse" she said, and burs
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. at
q cold night. You didn't expect me-
did you. Mother Robb?"
Dear me! What is it?" she falteret
stepping back as he came in and drop
; ping her crutch. BE l dreamin'?
was a-dreamin' about Oh there
What wa. a-sayin'? 'Tain't true! Nc
I've made some kind of a mistake.
Yes. this was the man who kept III
poorhouse, and she would go withou
complaint; they might have given he
notice. but she must not fret.
, SlL QOWH, SIT, sue Sdiu luiHlHS IO
ward him with touching patience
you'll have to give me a little tim,
If I'd been notified / wouldn't hav
kept you waiting a minute this col
| night" II was not the keeper. TIL
, man By the door took one step forwar
Z and put his arm round her and kisse
e ! her.
3 What are you talkin' about?' sal
5 John Harris. You amt goin' to max
e me feel like stranger. I've come a
d the way from Dakota to spend Thanks
!, givin'. There's all sorts o. things OF
o here in the wagon, an man TO hel
T get 'em in. Why--don't you cry 81
] Mother Rpbb. | thought you'd have
r great laugh II l come an surprised yoi
: Don't you remember / said / should
o 1t was John Harris indeed. The poo
: soul could say nothing. She felt no