Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1899-10-24

CAdiI Clooc " luc uOOE. ndU, Iue Cat
she had reared, was sitting near her In
a blank band of sunshine lying
athwart the flags, his legs propped In
front of him like two furry little pill
lars, his gray golden Sits Of eyes fixed
on the window. Janet, feeling the con-
straint of the silence, put out her hand
and, not daring to speak aloud, said
"Rab?' In a choking whisper. Rab
turned and looked at her carelessly
through his half shut eyes. Then he
rose and walked, with lazy stretchings
Of the hind legs, away owe to the
hearth. There he sat down and stared
up at a blue wisp Of fame blinking in
the CRATE. The monotonous tick Of the
clock was the only sound in the wide
kitchen.
Mrs. Goudie stood with her hand on
the back of a chair. At first her eyes
gazed before her with the wide look of
a proud anger, and her mouth was
hard. The glow fell upon her withered
face and revealed it's dark and stern
nobility. Presently her eyes narrowed
and went away, and she seemed to be
musing. Then a strange smile that
was not pleasant to look at appeared
about the orner of her mouth. But
she did not speak,
The light became more unearthly.
II declare" said Mrs. Goudie sud-
denly, with a false shrillness Of voice
that made Janet vince; Il declare, It's
like the day O. judgment, this" The
smile never left her lips.
Again was appalling silence. The
clock seemed to be ticking more and
more loudly. AS Janet listened to its
slow metallic beat her heart sank low
er III her breast. Where could her IA
Their be? He was SO seldom out Of the
kitchen at the cleaning. She turned
her head to see what O'clock 1t was.
The old yellow dial was shining with
eerie vividness.
All this time her mother had given
no sign either Of pity or resentment.
But -.
"Well," she said at last, always with
that ironic edge on her voice; well, we
had better gang butt the hoose, dye no
thinkY"
Janet rose passively without speak
ing. Now that her ordeal had come
she was too feeble to be sharply afraid.
She felt herself borne onward like a
creature in the clutch Of fate. She
was going to meet her father. A bare
lobby with whitewashed walls ran
from the front door between the kitch-
en- and the parlor. A. shaft of yellow
light struck in through an oblong slit
Of glass above the door, falling straight
upon a row Of pegs. On n of these
was the farmers everyday hat, a
square hard felt, green gilt at the sides
with age. The level rays revealed =
thick coating of dust on it.
The mother opened the room door,
which fell to the right, and then stop
ped, speaking over her shoulder.
"We'ye made changes here" she said
shrilly, as If showing alterations to a
stranger. She pointed to a bed, the
curtained head of which was close to
the door on the left. Janet had begun
to tremble.
She followed her mother into the
room. At first she could see nothing
because Of the invading glory.
"There's your fether" said Mrs.
Goudie.
Janet turned her eyes from the light,
and there lay her father in his shroud
beneath the full glow Of sunset.
The clock licked loudly In the
kitchen.
A fringe Of sandy whiskers stuck
out from the tight jaw bandage. There
were vivid hairs in 1t, redly cleaning.
Janet's knees were water below her.
She sank by the bed.
"Fetherv'- she painted, with open
mouth and unstrung lips. "Fether"
and then with a shrill scream of an
guish: ooh. God; My fether! My fe-
Their! My fether"
"A-hey," said her mother, that's
what We brocht your fether till" On
an April morning three and twenty
years ago this woman had felt a thou
sand pulses leap and throb within her
when a feeble little cry told that from
her body a living soul had come into
the world-ah, mystic wonder!-a new
born soul and from her body and the
child Of the man she loved. But that
child had broken the heart of the mar
she loved, and she was merciless.
Suddenly a blatant low from tho
great empty byre echoed through the
silence holloway, and again there was
silence.
The somber radiance deepened In the
room. The brass knobs at the head Of
the bed cleaned m~ournfully.
"Speak to me, fether" whispered
Janet. Speak to me. fether! Speak
to me"
But he lay with closed eyes In the
lonely light, and it seemed to Janet
that his shut lips smiled-smiled with
the quiet irony Of the dead, who know
the secrets Of all things and will tell
Us nothing.-Speaker.
Only Thing to DO.
"Aunt Emeline, what would you do
II you opened your eyes at night and
Jaw the dark form Of a burglar moving