The Republican journal. [volume] (Belfast, Me.) 1829-current, 1899-11-23
For the axe OF Tom.

daf1odils that bordered the path shone
family golden. Inside, the two old
women rocked and knitted. II had
been so long since either had spoken
that the last words seemed like DIM
memories of some ar-distant past. When
Ma tina Whipple brought her chair
to a sudden stop the movement had
something startling in it; she leaned
forward impressively, her round, t1oIid
face settling into heavy lines of determi-
nation
Its borne in on me to say something
to you, Mary" she began; I've set out
to do it more n once, an then I've backed
out. It's jest what everybodys sayin'.
l hope you won't lay = up against me
if | tell you what's for your own
good
There was no answer. The little figure
opposite took on a certain alertness like
that of an animal about to spring, yet there
had been no peIceptible motion; it was
rather the waTiness of the brown eyes that
seemed oddly at variance with the wrinkled
weather beaten face and short, gray curls.
The silence batfied the visitor, but it was
too late TO retreat.
''Its four years now since Tom went
away, an three since he was married,
an he amt never come home, though
ue hDoNS HOW you It loOhlu lOI ulIu.
| guess there amt been a night since
he married that you AIM lit up
tie best room an opened the front door
a, if you thought he an that city wife of
his might come walking up the path any
mute. Sometimes 1 We got fairly raging
over it. All this time you've been a
watchin' an a waitin, an you We never
set eyes on him nor his wife nor baby.
Now | tell you what it is; ID jest make
W my mind if | was you to let it all 60.
lain right for pelfessor to wear her
self out SO. You know what Flora An
d1ews was when she boarded at the
divers that summer Tom met her; ta:n't
likely she's changed now, an shes jest
weaned Tom from it all. If l was you,
I'd Jest up an show 'em | could get
on as we'll without EN- as they could
without me. I'd
She stopped short, staring at her friend.
The little old woman had risen 70 her
feet trembling with excitement. "We've
been neigh bors 80 years, Martha Whip
pie she said, but if you say another
word L II never forgive you as long as you
live. l guess you d better go,-I guess
'twould be safer So and besides, I've got
considerable to do to- night | didn't tell
lou before, but | N going down to Toms
to- morrow"
Miss Martha had risen with tragic in
dignation, but the news was too much for
her. She turned back in undisgused
amazement.
For the land S sake, why didn't you
say sou she exclaimed. Cant l help
you get ready? How !ong do you cal
culate to stay?''
Il calculated I'd be gone about week.
Being the spring of the year, | can't
stay longer, for there's the garden
to see to. l amt got much to do to get
ready. If you' d feed the cat once a day,
-twouldn't do no good to bring him
over, he wouldn't stay,-but FL leave
saucer on the back porch, an you can put
his milk there. -
Il will CERTAIN answered Miss Martha.
She had quite forgotten her resentment
ia the keen relish of the news: the
sewing circle would meet the next day.
she looked back when she lie ched
the doorway, and nodded and smiled
cordially.
Il won say good by" she said, ''be-
ing as / Il see you to morrow. l guess
twill be real good weather for travelling.
What time will you be along?''
1.-The stage passes at eight, III be over
about half past seven
''All right, I'll watch for you, an if
4HtIt Is any uiI4 tlSt L can lake care
Of, bring that TOO. Good night, Mis-
Haswell. -
''Good- night" she answered. Her
voice had curious, half frightened tone
in it, and her eyes We're full of dsmay.
She hurried into the house and shut the
door then She looked around Ee1, ard
tie look was that of an exile about to
leave home forever.
q dunno what made me say it," she
cried. II said it before | thought, an
now I've got to 90. An ! don't know
how can, either, with things all start
ing to bloom so pretty? An Tom might
come, too.-supposin' we should pass
each other, an be come while I'm gont
But I've got to 60. Folks sha' n say
such things about Tomas if TON
wouldn't be glad to see his mother What
if he amt been home? Hes comm he
always says so. An there's the baby,
too. Haven't | wanted TO see her
more than anything in the wollG? It's
its only that | can't get used to it.
somehow. | thought Tom would come
here, 50 that I wouldn't have To leave
home. [ alius thought Tom would
come in the spring; knew just bow he'd
took comm up between the datfodils,- -
when he was little fellow he used to
love EN- so. | thought mebbe TOMS
baby would love EN-. too
She went TO the window, and looked
down the path where the datfodils were
set like lights to guide the wanderer home.
Then She turned resOutely away. Though
so small and flail looking, she had a will
that i'll an emergency was better than
strength; she worked nearly all night
packing her valise and shutting up the
house. When morning came she made
herself a cup of tea before going care
fully over the house for the last time
then she dragged her valise out on the
doorstep and locked the front door behind
her, and went over to Martha Whip
pies.
Martha welcomed her with ELUSIVE
eagerness. Come in an have a bic,
Mis- Haswell, do" she urged. 81 meant
to ask you last night, but L was so
tiustered l forgot it. I've got hot
biscuit here, an they're good, if / do
say So
Mrs. Haswell was standing very erect;
she looked pale and tired; but her eyes
seemed to defy any one to detect it,
m obliged to you, Martha" he
said, ''but I've had my breakfast, an |
guess I'd better git back. You won't
forget to feed the cat?''
"No, | won't forget. | hone vou'1