The Forrest City times., 1899-08-18
A Sprig of Rosemary
 By Julia Schayer.

,aiuly about her-now at the endless obain of street cars, now into the faces of passers-by. She was a countrified old woman, stout and plain, yet with sucb goodness in her face, such simplic- ;tv such all-embracing human kind mess. as to make it, for eyes that really see. lovely to look upon.
 If was hot summer afternoon, and che. too. was warmly clad in dark. bonely garments. Near her feet on the curbstone was large enamel-cloth satchel. with q robust cotton umbrella strapped to it. On her left arm hung a good sized basket filled with growing plants-oldfash things seldom seen outside of farmhouse gardens. With her right hand rScased in a gray cotton glove, she was flaming her heat sa face with a corner of her black shawl Her pleasant gray eyes wandered from face to face of the hurrying throng, as if seeking sympathy, but few gave her even a casual glance, and of those few only now and then one gave her a sec 0fl0 lOO-s Tt up Nith ositv or amusement. The woman was so obviously out of place-as much so as an apple tree or a clump of cinna- mon roses would have been.
 The guileless wistfulness of her bright old eyes pierced the hard crust of worldliness and conventionality, and erept into their hearts, and more than one was moved to ask the stranger if she needed help or information, but the little crevice closed quickly and they passed on. Only the look remained im- prsoned in their bosoms. and they re- called that day things they had not though of for many year.
 The woman had arrived on a noon train, expecting her nephew, William Henry Farmer, to meet her at the sta- 1ion She had waited long time for him, then, thinking her letter had mis- carried, she decided to go on to his house up town. She had been there be- fore, and she knew how to reach it, but she "as timid about going alone.
 William Henry was her only brothers NhAld. tbb hHd SioNh QD bjl ldIIll. He was a smart boy, and had grown up into q smart man. He was pros- porous provision dealer in New York now, married to a nice girl from his own township, and living comfortably in his own house cut Harlem way. Whenever there arose domestic emer- gency in his farnily-and they arose with astonishing frequency-AuntA Alp by came on to nurse William Henry's wife. For that matter, they would have liked to keep her with them all the time; but Aunt Abby would not leave her home-the home of her humble farming ancestors for several generations. She was essentially of the soil, country woman in every fiber of her being. The city was 10 her a monster, splendid but full of terror, whose glittering scales pained her eyes, whose incessant roar hurt her ears, accustomed to the quiet fields and woods. Not for worlds would she live in the city.
 But she dearly loved William Henry. and Lucilla and the children, and was glad to come and stay with them dur ing emergencies like the one pending. Luclila was country girl, too. and loved the old place, and when Aunt Alb ny came in she always brought some thing from her old home. This time it was some plants for Lucilla's window garden, from the place where William henry's folks used to live. She had left good deal of soil about the roots, and that made the basket very heavy. Her arm ached sorely, but she would not set The basket down for fear some one might tread on it, or even steal it while she was not looking, and she kept sharp eye also on the black satchel. Aunt Abby read the papers, and her op'nion of New York morals was not high.
 She began to feel very tired. and wished William Henry had not missed 'er' and wondered how she happened 'o leave her palm leaf fan on the train.
 I'm gettin' all het up." she said to herself. wearily.
 she had thought that she knew just winch kind of n car to take to get to her hephew's house, but they came along so iast, and looked so mulch alike that she was getting doubtful. And she meant 'o De very cautious. She was morally ''f'ain, that once on the wrong car, "ef doom was sealed. There was no Nhowing to what dreadful den she h'ght be lured. robbed and murdered, ana no one would ever know what be- 'ame Of her. She had read of numbers "' m people disappearing mysteriously 'hat way. So she let ear after car pass "'itil she could feel quite, quite sure.
 When she had been standing there some time in the hot sun, a handsome coupe stopped near her, and an old gen ''e'nan stepped out. He was d very fine 'ooking old gentleman, indeed, clean snaVen, rosy. and somewhat pompous. HIS hair was silver white, and so were 'he heavy brows under which were yves as hard and bright as polished s'eel; his mouth was the mouth of man who loved pomp and pleasure, but ,' was not altogethera a cruel mouth. As