The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1897-01-26
AMONG THE HILLS.

hills.
Rosa loved the hills as she loved God,
and thought of them as she did of heaven.
She had heard that God was great and
strong and sheltering; SO, she knew, were
the hills. And heaven? That was far,
very far, away, and it was hard to reach;
but OH it was SO beautiful. And the more
she dreamed of it the more she came to be-
Heve that heaven was somewhere among
those hills.
Rosa was the ash mans daughter. She
lived with the ash man and his wife and
their many weakened, brown children in
the basement of a gray house. on a gray
street in the gray city of San Francisco.
The poor little room in the basement had
nothing bright in it 1t, too, was dull and
gray, like the house and the street, and
when the cold fog rolled into the crowded
room, as it always did in the evening, it
settled about the faces and forms of the
children and made them look pale and
wraithlike.
g Evermorel Evermorel'' Rosa had
heard the word at Sunday school, and it
haunted her. She asked the good sister
what it meant and she had smiled kindly
and said it meant always, eternally.'
Rosa looked at the sister thoughtfully,
with her big, solemn eyes, I'VE have ever
more babies at our house, she said.
And SO it was When Rosa, the little
elder sister, had taught the last thin, brown
baby little patois and encouraged it to
take few steps, another wailing stranger
would demand those Offices. Rosa loved
the brood of little ones, but she tired some
times Of their weak cries, and her thin
arms and narrow shoulders ached from the
burden of carrying them to -soothe their
cries, and her head aehed woefully
Rosa was a dwarfiike girl with a we'll
developed head, pale, olive skin and big
brown eyes that would not permit you to
forget her. There was haunting earnest
ness, wistful questioning in them, that
you recalled sometimes in gay crowds
where the hungry orbs were out of place.
They followed and troubled you as does the
gaze of adog that had lost its owner. There
was an animals pain In them and hu-
man unrest. They reminded you of the
eyes of a woman whom you can never for
get, one who had looked upon the woes
and mockeries of life until she prayed to
die. IL was with such a prayer in her eyes
that Rosa Giovanni looked at the faraway
hills. The two smallest brown babies were
asleep. The others were playing in anoth-
er room with children who were old enough
to care for them. So the small, brown
hands were idle for once. They lay crossed
in the lap of the dreamer.
The great, green hillsi How fresh and
beautiful they look! Had not Nina, the
neighbor, told her it was there the flowers
grew, the dewy, delicate flowers which she
had seen a countryman of hers selling at
the place where many streets crossed? She
had caught the breath of some of those
flowers once, and it was sweet-as sweet
as heaven, and the hills All, to have
some of them in her lap at this moment
To press her hot forehead gainst their cool
softness and so forget that it ached so ter
ribiy. The half closed eyes opened wide.
They stared in wild way at the hills. a
resolve was being born, a resolve that
sprung from her ignorance and pain. She
would go to the hills. They were not very
far. Some one had said they were far
away, but they had come closer to her.
They seemed to be opening their soft,
green arms to her. She would go. She
would come back again TO the brown
babies, but she must seek that ceolness and
rest and the flowers.
She ran up the narrow street and among
the cars and wagons at the crowded cross
ing. Nobody noticed the ragged little fig
ure, for the haunting eyes did not seek
their faces and challenge their curiosity.
Those strange eyes looked past the hurry
ing people TO the strip of velvety green be-
yond the roofs. She sped along the street,
stopping not for questions. She could not
be lost. Did she not know where she was
going and was it not to the hills, which
her eyes never left for moment She
shivered, but not from fear. The fog had
but she thought: 'fThe hills will take care
of me- They are warm and kind
Her breath came shorter. She was tired,
but not as when she left the cellar of the
gray house, for was she not coming nearer
to that wavy line of green at every step?
Once she fell, but she drew herself up
again and walked on more slowly this
time. But the feverish light in her eyes
had become a fierce fame. Her cheeks
burned. The hills were coming closer.
She could not walk much farther. They
knew it, and they were coming to her.
81 found her lying across the curb. Sh.
was stretching out her arms on the side
walk and saying something like: All,
good kind hiIlsI I've found you She
must have been there hour or two, for
she was cold as the stones of the side
walk
The big policeman put the stunted form
into the matron's arms
Poor little lanbr' she said. She was
used to sad sights, but tears filed her eyes
as she looked at the drawn, dark features
and warped body.
After they had laid her in the snowy bed
she opened her wandering eyes upon rows
of clean cots, wherein she saw the faces OF
children. She looked at the motherly faes
bending above her, then through the win
dow at the sunshine falling upon wavina
line of green.
1T was true" she said, and the worn
little face took on its last child's happi-
ness. Heaven is here among the hills -
The matron drew a sheet over the sTnil-
ing face and they placed a screen about the
cot.-Ada Patterson in St. Louis Republic.
An Interesting Cinder.
In the repository of the Royal artillery
at Woolwich a large cinder is exhibited,
which Is very great CURIOSITY having