The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1899-09-28
A Sprig Of Rosemary
By Julia schayer

1T was at the corner OF Blank street
and Broadway. An old woman was
sanding on the curb looking uncer-
tainly about her-now at the endless
,hain Of street cars, now into the faces
Of passers-by. She was countrified
old woman, stout and plain, yet with
such goodness in her face, such simplic-
ity, such all-embracing human kind
ness, as to make it, for eyes that really
zee, lovely to look upon.
II was hot summer afternoon, and
she, too, was warmly clad in dark,
homely garments. Near her feet on the
curbstone was large enamel-cloth
satchel, with a robust cotton umbrella
strapped to it. On her left arm hung
good-sized basket filled with growing
plants old-fashioned things seldom
seen outside of farmhouse gardens.
With her right hand incased in gray
cotton glove, she was tanning her heat
ed face with corner of her black shawl.
Her pleasant gray eyes wandered from
face to face of the hurrying throng, as
i seeking sympathy, but few gave her
sven casual glance, and of those few
only now and then one gave her Sec
ond look lit up with momentary curl
osity or amusement. The woman was
70 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
ofworldliness and conventionality, and
crept into their hearts, and more than
one was moved to ask the stranger if
she needed help or information, but the
little creyice closed quickly and they
passed on. Only the look remained inn
prisoned in their bosoms, and they re-
called that day things they had not
though OF for many a year.
The woman had arrived on a noon
srain, expecting her nephew, William
Henry Farmer, to meet her at the sta
ilon. She had waited a long time for
ann, then, thinking her letter had mis-
carried, she decided to go on to his
mouse up town. She had been there be-
lore, and she knew how to reach it,
oul she was timid about going alone.
William Henry was her only brothers
salld, and had grown up on farm.
ne was a smart boy, and had grown
Up into smart man. He was a pros
Porous provision dealer in New York
now, married to q nice girl from his
own township, and living comfortably
= ms own house out Harlem way.
whenever there arose domestic emer-
gency in his family-and they arose
nun astonishing frequency-Aunt Alb
= came on to nurse William Henry's
sne. For that matter, they would
ave liked to keep her with them all
sae ume; but Aunt Abby would not
her home-the home of her
humble farming ancestors for several
generations. She was essentially of the
.u'' . country woman in every fiber of
nef being. The city was to her a
monster, splendid but full of terror,
Nnese glittering scales panied her
syss' whose incessant roar hurt her
- accustomed to the quiet fields and
.ooos. Not for worlds would she live
= the city.
Dus sne dearly loved William Henry,
ny Lucllla and the children, and was
s'su 70 come and stay with them dur
emergencies like the one pending.
.. ss','a was country girl, too, and
'so the old place. and when Aunt Alb
sS;. Ame IN she always brought some
ns from her old home. This time ii
- some plants for Lucilla's window
SS.luen' from the place where William
..sniy 9 folks used to live. She had left
soou deal of soil about the roots, and
- made the basket very heavy. Her
s scaed sorely, but she would not SET
- pasket down for fear some one
n' tread on it, or even steal it while
vas not looking, and she kept q
eye also on the black satchel
49, sn. ABBY read the papers, and hel
'on OF New York morals was moi
.,.a vi began @ to feel very tired. and
sea William Henry had not missed