Santa Fe daily New Mexican., 1897-08-25
A SKETCH FROM LIFE

| tage With It's we'll kept yard ana gafden
at one side l found this tall, square, spare
woman plying formidable hoe, under
whose tyrannical strokes the clumps OF
earth yielded meekly. Was she always
alone? Was she always diggingS
The mystery surrounding her only
heightened my curiosity, and one autumn
morning, as | was taking my way to town
along the picturesque little path overhung
with richly dyed trees, that led past her
home, l stopped and said, Good morn
ingn' For there she was, digging away
against a background of snowy clothes
futtering cheerfully on the lines. Il hear
that you wash and iron. Have you as
much as you can do? If not, should like
to have you Ike some for me.
"Oh, yes can do it," she replied, with
careless toss of her head, IL read and
work in my garden nearly all day, and at
night wash and iron. Why, it has only
taken me 10 years to buy this house and
lot with what have earned
"Only Is years!'' repeated to myself,
noticing at the same time that she did not
possess the Hoosier accent. "You are fond
of reading? Who are your fayorite au-
thors?" I asked, wonderingly
"Oh, it is only the old ones / know
Dickens, Scott, Thackeray. The new
| books never find their way into my isolat-
| ed home, and the old ones are worn out
with much reading" Suddenly her eye
| left mine and sought the fields beyond
| with wistful expression. There was al
| most q smile about the corner of the thin
| lips as she said dreamily: "There was a
| book l read once, long before ever came
| here that I have never forgotten. Per
| haps, " turning to me, as though becoming
| conscious again of my presence, you
| know it. 1t was Lorna Doone.
"'Lorna Doone?'" " | exclaimed with
surprise and delight. "Why, have it and
will gladly lend it to you. 1t Is also one
| of my favorites.
| I unused as walked downward. Washes
and irons at night! That is why there is
always a light in her window. When does
she sleep? Seldom, from the looks of her.
| She may be anywhere from 80 to 90 years
of age. They say she is ''off in the upper
story" They who have never heard of a
| Dickens, or a Scott, or Ihackeray what
"a pitiable, lonely life!
At tho end of tho week ! stopped in to
Day her for the work. which had been beau
| tifully done. 1t was the twilight of gray,
chilly day. The leaves had begun to
"crackle," mournful murmur against
their fate, as they went huttering to the
brown earth. One of those melancholy
DAYS" that served all the more to accentu-
ate the loneliness of this woman, and yet
from her very appearance she seemed
part of this sad season.
had purposely avoided bringing the ex-
act change hoping to prolong my stay
with her and perhaps be taken into her lit
tie home and her confidence. Both wishes
| were gratifled. was led through the tiny
front room, where had only time to notice
it's cleanliness and the wonderful red pea
cocks embroidered on the pillow shams,
back to the timer, upholstered kitchen. II
was indeed cheerless. Through the cracks
in the planks the poor daylight seemed tc
creep in reluctantly, and could only dim
ly see the white ironing board with its
basket of sprinkled, neatly rolled clothes
underneath.
She lighted the gas for even the poorest
| could afford the natural gas, and showed
the surroundings even grimmer than be-
fore | asked if l might remain a few mo-
ments, and she almost smiled again as she
offered me the one chair. Then she took
from above the door an old coffeepot, from
which she procured the necessary change
saying as she handed it to me: "Do not
think me very queer; but, living so alone
must take every precaution to protect
myself and so / resort to all sorts OF decep
tive places for my few yaluables. Do yor
see that -four sack hanging from BEAM
That contains my fire insurance policies
Would any one ever suspect it? And the
rest of my money is sewed up in the mat
tress. You see,, am telling you all my
secrets, but somehow | trust you. You arr
the only one with whom l have cared tt
talk for many years. May tell you lit
tie of my life?'
She had by this time carefully adjusted
shirt on the board and was easily, quiet
ly ironing. ~ do not want you to think
| as the other people of this town, that an
crazy. have never even taken the trou
| BILE to try to disabuse their minds of tht
idea, but with you it is different. want
you to know that I, like you, am south
erner of refined parentage."
She went to the stove to change her iror
and stood there for some time lost in
thought, her eyes looking away with that
same wistful expression. Then she con
tinued speaking, more to herself than tt
me: How plainly l can see 1T all, the
sweet home life, an ever fresh picture in
my mind Sometimes I can almost fancy
the odor of the jasmine flower stealing In
| on a warm breeze All, all those youth
| full, tender memories charitably cling
around me like vine about some ruin
But there came time'- She turned
her eyes to mine with a hunted, fright
ened look, which soon, however, changed
to one of yearning Her under lip trem
| bled like childs, her whole stern figure
relapsed into dependent womanhood, ant
she sank down at my feet murmuring be
tween her sobs, "Oh, you know the one
thing that makes woman give up every
thing for a life like this!'
was incapable of speaking for some
moments, but | stroked the scanty hair
drawn back into the uncompromising
knot, and my whole heart went out tc
| this erring, tired woman. 1t was probably
the first time in all these years that She
had let go the secret that was eating away
her life
At last l rose, took her gently by tht
hand and led her to the door Of the front
room. ~ am going now," / said, "but
before go 1 want to ask two favors Of
you-one that you will come to luncheon
with me tomorrow at noon and the othel
that you will let me be your friend"
"Oh," she murmured softly-her whole
nature seemed to have softened-"I must
decline to grant the first favor, as have
for so long eaten from the front of the
stove would not know how to behave al
table, but for the seoond"-she put hel
two hands almost roughly on my shoul
ders-"will you be my friend9 Year,
for one more than can tell you"
II will" responded in an unsteady
voice as found my way out to the little
white path leading to the gate.
1t was quite dark and ran all the way
home, wondering If there were many such