Willmar tribune. [volume] (Willmar, Minn.) 1895-1931, 1899-08-30
A Sprig Of Rosemary
By Julia schayer


IT was at the corner of Blank street
and Broadway. An old woman was
standing on the curb looking uncer.
tainly about her-now at the endless
chain of street cars, now into the faces
of passers-by. She was a countrified
old woman, stout and plain, yet with
ssuch goodness in her face, such simple.
ity, such all-embracing human kind
ness, as to make it, for eyes that really
see, lovely to look upon.
1t was a hot summer afternoon, and
she, too, was warmly clad in dark,
homely garments. Near her feet on the
curbstone was a large enamel-cloth
satchel, with robust cotton umbrella
strapped to it. On her left arm hung
a 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
it seeking sympathy, but few gave her
even 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
SO obviously out of place-as much so
as an apple tree or clump of CHINA
mon roses would have been.
The guileless usefulness Of her
bright old eyes pierced the hard crust
of worldliness 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 crevice closed quickly and they
passed on. Only the look remained i'm
prisoned 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
ton. She had waited a. 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 Low to reach it,
but she was timid about going alone
William Henry was her only brothers
child, and had grown up on farm.
He was a smart boy, and had grown
up into smart man. He was a pros
porous provision dealer in New York
now, married to a nice girl from his
own township, and living comfortably
in his own house out Harlem way.
Whenever there arose a domestic emer-
gency in his family-and they arose
with astonishing frequency-AuntA Alb
oy 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 cit y was to her a
monster, splendid but full of terror,
whose glittering scales panied 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.
Lucilla was country girl, too, and
loved the old place, and when Aunt Alb
by 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 a
sharp eye also on the black satchel.
Aunt Abby read the papers, and her
opinion of New York morals was not
high. -
She began to feel very tired, and
wished William Henry had not missed
her, and wondered how she happened
to leave her palm leaf fan on the train.
I'm gettin' all .het up!" she said to
herself, YEARLY.
She had thought that she knew lust
which kind of q car to take to get to her
nephew s house, but they came along so
fast; and looked so much alike that she
was getting, doubt fulill.s.And she meant meant
to-be very cautious She was morally
certain, that once 81 tie: wrong car,
her doom was sealed ere was 8 no IL,
knowing 10 what .dreadfuh den ( She
might be lured, robbed ana murdered,
and no one would; ever know; what be-
carue Of her. She had read OF numbers
ct people disappearing mysteriously
thkt way. So she letcar after car pass
until she could feel quite, quite sure. 81
.3 When she had been standing there
eonae time III the hot sun, a handsome
coupe stopped near her, and an old gen
stleman stepped out He was very fine
looking old gentl eman, indeed, clean
:l1aayen, rosy, and somewhat pompous.,
His hair was silver white, and severe
the heavy brows uniler which were
eyes o hard and bright as polished
steel; ri mont was mouth 81 q
a,an ,vl,oalo popp and pleasure. but