The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1897-07-20

o.
three of her small piano pupils seemed
to pound upon her brain.
But her mother did not return, and
the next day Penelope set out for Or
inoco. There was no train until after
noon. On her way to the station she
stopped at the postoffice to mail her
letter to Sam Mute. She had n vague
feeling that it was precipitation of
fate, this sacrifice which was so hard.
without 1T her mother would not be
returned to her. Before she could slip
the letter into the box the postmistress
handed her one, addressed in the
loose, wavering hand that had been
her mothers since her illness, and she
went directly out with it.
Penelope sat down upon the grass
by the wayside and opened it, her
heart leaping at the dear, familiar
words
My DEAR DAUGHTER: I want you to send
me my best bonnet, right Oft. And you
might send. too, your little lace cap that
you think Is 80 becoming to me. They
want me to stay to the county conferences.
and as there are things about 1t that seem
kind OF providential, as you might say
don't know but shall. And Lizzie Is real
stylish, you know. I'm wearing one of her
hats, and they say it isn't mite too young
for me-
forgot that you don't know how | came
mere, but suppose you must have kind of
guessed by this time. / went across the
Held to the railroad track, thinking to pick
u few blackberries My head flew round
hut L kept right on, for / never was one to
give up easy. / went to climb over the
empty passenger-cars that are most always
there in the daytime, and i sat down to
rest; and guess / must have fallen asleep,
for first thing knew there was jerk, and
the train was moving
thought at first that | was only dizzy
and the noise it made was in my head; but
when the stone walls begau to slip along
backward knew what had happened.
| got up to go inside, but the door was
locked, and nobody saw or heard me till
the conductor came along and unlocked
the door. told him must be put off, but
he said they couldn't, for they were behind
time. He was saucy. anyhow; when 1 said
couldn't go to Orinoco which was the
first stopping place-he said, as cool as
could be, Madam what will you do? And
when said L should die before got there
he said, ms polite as basket of chips, In
that ease, madam, i will see that your re-
mains are sent to your friendsl"
lie gave me a comfortable seat-I'll say
that for him-and there / sat In Seinas
old haying hat, with the tears trckling
down my checks and him and two brake
Orinoco | was trembling In every limb for
L hadn't any money. l couldn't bear to ask
any questions, after the blood-curdling way
that that conductor answered me. But /
declare. don't know but il kept me up to
be so mad as he made mel
While was standing on the platform of
the Orinoco station, wondering what /
should do. who should come driving up but
sam and Lizzie Nute You know I've had
kind OF feeling against Nutes but didn't
| oil 10,
see any folks In all my born days, and /
said so right out They took me right
home with Them and here / am.
1t seems queer that L should have been
carried of 50 to the county conference
that never expected TO go to again. The
Rev. Orsino Cheney is stopping here at
Deacon Nute's to attend the conference
Your Aunt Selma will know who he IL. He
used to kind of keep company with me
when was girl. They say he has come
home for wife, and Lizzie keeps teasing
me; but, of course, that is ridiculous. Not
but what should feel equal to laboring in
the Lords vineyard wherever He was
pleased to call mo, after what | stood yes
terday.
That makes me think that 1 don't know
as you've treated Sam Mute just right
Maybe you've thought too much of that old
diiiiculty between the two families. Folks
ought not to treasure up such things. If
should have to leave you-and the most
unexpected things do happen in this world
I should like to think that left you with
such protector as sam Mute would be-
Your LOVING MOTHER.
L. S.-Before you send the bonnet you
might get two little sprigs of those blue
flowers that you thought were so becoming
to me and let the milliner pin them in
Penelope laughed little and cried
little, sitting by herself on the grass
beside the road Then she tore the
long, hateful letter to Sam all into lit
tie bits and tossed them into the air :;
and the winds of heaven swooped
down upon them and bore them afar.
Youths Companion.