The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1899-06-18
Twenty Years,

Somewhat back from the well-traveled
turnpike stood low, red farmhouse over
Swallowed by giant popiars. On either
! SIDE OF the weil-beaten path were beds
| OF mignonette. bachelors buttons, ladies'
! delight and nodding nasturtiums. A thriv-
ing bush. Of sUuthernwood that had long
outlived the hand that placed It there
/ nourished by the broad stone step, ana a
| tall cinnamon rose that had clamoered
| its way above the level of the half-open
window nodded and swayed to and fro as
IL impatient with the cords that held it,
and as though 1t could no longer control
| Its curiousity, had thrust several trag-
nent blossoms into the room within.
where kindly faced woman was ousily
| arranging the few articles OF furniture.
As she moved about in her energetic FASH
ion she hummed in sweet yet tremulous
voice the strains OF an old-fashioned
| hymn.
Martha Kidder, or ''Marthy" as she was
| Familiarity called by the neighbors. was
woman Of perhaps so years of age, long
since past her first youth, but the pos
SCISSOR Of one OF those faces from which
| the youthful expression is never eliminat-
| ed. She was of medium height and rather
spare In form; her still abundant hair
was drawn smoothly away from the placid
| brow and fastened In neat coll at the
| back of the head. The lilac-sprigged
=
lar, was secured at the throat with a
quaint oval-shaped breastpin, in which
was braided lock of faded hair.
AS she moved about in her quick, ner-
vous fashion she gradually drew near the
window. and attracted by the nodding
rose, whose fragrance filed the room she
leaned her tired arm upon its narrow
ledge and gazed lovingly on the little gar
den below.
Martha Kidder was an ardent worshiper
| of nature. and this June afternoon,
standing by the open window. she drank
in the beauty of the landscape spread be-
| fore her till the loneliness of her soil
| tary life faded away. even as the misty
| clouds of vapor were rising from the ho-
som of the distant Contoocook. A golden
robin perched on the captalpa tree broke
| into an ecstacy of song and a struggling
sunbeam-glinted in, shining across the
room with unwonted brightness. Turn
| ing reluctantly from the scene Martha
resumed her work. and through the open
window came stealing the soothing strains
| of Cool Siloam's Shady Rill."
Gradually the long June day drew to
close, the western sky was stained with
splashes of gold and crimson and the
sinking sun slowly disappeared behind the
distant hilltops, gliding the farmhouse
windows till they glittered like FURNISHED
gold: the frogs began to peep and the
katydids took up their incessant strain.
and silently the twilight crept over the
New Hampshire hills.
Taking her faded sunbonnet from its
rail- by the gitchen dresser Martha made
ready to carry the night milk to the city
family at the clearinghouse. mile from
hte Kidder farm. Securely fastening the
wide front door. she tripped down the
narrow path. pausing TO pick spray OK
nignonette which she fastened In the
folds of her kerchief. AS she walked
along the country road, overshadowed by
the great beech trees, she still hummed
the some old song. Passing the little
grass-grown burial ground, she paused by
its low stone wall, her eyes resting low
ingly on a group of stones somewhat
apart from the others. the nearest bear
ing the name of Hannah Kidder. aged
16. painted in rude black letters on the
tail. moss-covered stone and now nearly
obliterated by the storms OF forty years.
A mist came over the woman's eyes and
she pressed her wrinkled hand 20 her
throat, where IL gently rested on Inc
brooch containing Hannah's hair. ReSuDl
ing her walk she soon reached the board
ing-house and quietly started homewar1.
As the good-natured host drove up with
the evening mail he shouted 70 his wife:
ANN Maria Abel Kings come home. al
ter twenty years, and we all thought him
dead. Rich as Croesus, so folks say. Guess
Marthy wishes she'd treated him kinder
when he asked her to marry him fore
he left"
The moonlight fiickered through the
branches of the trees. casting fltful shad-
ows along the dusty turnpike, tie brakes
and sweet fern nodded py the roadside
the white birches stood out IN bold relief
against a background of spruce and hem
lock. and a deep silence. broken only by
the wind in the pines, brooded over all.
Martha did not hasten on the way, hut
often paused TO enjoy the beauty of the
night An overhanging branch Of moose
bush loaded with creamy blossoms brush
ed against her cheek. and she paused to
gather its heavily scented flowers. Sui
denly the silence was broken b. the sound
of footsteps. A man was rapidly ap-
preaching, and in the moonIig1; the form
seemed strangely familiar. Suddenly he
stopped, then stepping to the woman's
side, exclaimed: Martha, don't you
know me?" In a voice trembling with
emotion. she cried: abel. is it you?
They told me you were dead"
The moon shone out from behind a
feecy cloud and its beams flooded the
wooded slopes of old AIonadnock till the
placid river at It's base shone like bur-
nished silver, but its softest beams fell
on the bent forms Of a man and woman.
who never more would walk life's road
apart.