The herald., 1897-03-21
NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS.
( SOMEBODY'S MOTHER :
3AAAAAAAAA&A&4&AAAA4AAAAAS &

She came out from the shadow of a
tumble down house near Fourth street
into the sunlight 1t was yesterday
afternoon She drifted-yes, that is the
word-she drifted up to Spring street
like a leaky, dismantled and deserted
old sailing vessel. She was old, her hair
was long and white, is prairie bleached
buffalo head. The face was scanned like
wrinkled leather-the inaudible diary of
at least ninety years. There was
hunted look in her weakened eyes which
showed that they had not always gazed
in peace and luxury, and perhaps not in
the way laid down by the church and the
commandments. She emerged from
howell, it is true, yet she was somebody's
mother.
Her black dress was ragged, her shawl
tattered and the wool hood of the pattern
of long ago told story. She was going
| out to hunt for her wayward son, who
had disappeared years ago. 1t seemed
but yesterday to her that her bright
faced lad had kissed her goodbye and
said: IN be back soon, mother" but he
never came back. To her neighbors,
those who knew her best, the exact date
of her daily, tireless street search was
lost track of in that flood of misfortune
and misery which separates the past
from the present. Her gait was halting
ard cowed, and the suspicious look OF
cne whom gnawing hunger and the ter
rife struggle for bread in the selfishness
of a city had been the whole of life.
There was still a little of the woman
left in her face. Her lips, thin and cruel,
ifeless and sallow; her keen black eyes
like intensity; her whole face was crossed
were deep set, but burned with fever
like intensity; her whole face was
crossed and interviewer with lines OF
endless sorrow and care.
From under the faded frill in front of
the hood a single pathetic strand of gray
hair escaped and was tossed about IN
playful gyrations by the spring breezes.
AS she came out from under the shad-
ow she paused for a moment as though
to collect her failing strength. The glare
of the midday sunshine daZzled her and
she rubbed her eyes with corner OF her
tattered shawl Then she shambled
slowly south, past sign boards on which
figures were playing at the last acts OF
tragedy, or clowns and ballet girls dane
irg about, dressed in gorgeous colors.
Busy men passed the tottering old
woman by without glance OF pity. But
she did not pass them by without look
not she. She stopped to peer after
each passing face from under
Nrinkled brows, with a half expectant
and half doubling expression. Her eyes
were the only thing about her that was
more than half alive, and as they peered
in vain as the throng passed, they hlled
with tears and she slowly shook her
head in sad disappointment.
At Spring and Fifth street several
bare-footed children with soiled races
were playing near the curb in the street.
The sun reflected from the puddle in
which they were playing, casting funny
little shadows on the sidewalk The old
woman gazed longingly at them for
moment. Then she gathered up the
remnant of her old skirt about her mea-
ger form and crossed the street through
the mud. An electric car tore down re-
morselessly upon her. The clatter, clang-
bang of the bell startled her and she al
most fell out of its way. She was USED
to being in the way, it seemed to her,
and to be driven about without any con-
sideration for her age was nothing new
to her. Once on the opposite curb she
halted for a rest The children were
afraid of her. They stopped in their
play and ran screaming to the shelter of
3. battered doorway, and from there
taunted her with impudent jibes.
Anticipation was gone from her eyes.
Now she crawled painfully up the street
without apparent aim or purpose. Feebly
and with tired eyes she looked in at the
windows of the bake shops. There was
neither desire nor covetousness In the
gaze There was no hope in the dark
eyes; life had been too we'll tested and
she was too old for that. She gazed at
the cakes and bread as dog would gaze
at the moon. On each of the corners
she rested, getting more and more in
the human current that was filling
the street. Finally the gay stream
of spring shoppers passed up and
down on either side of the walks and
met the old creature. Smart young
women in. bright new gowns passed by
and made her the more pathetic in con-
trast, and she was soon swallowed up
in the busy whirl of moving splendor.
Was she to find this brightfaced boy
Of long ago? Who dares say?
w. G. MAC RAE.