St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1900-10-20
/ GOING HOME.
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THE soft, hazy October sunshine
fell on West Virginia poorhouse
changing its white painted sides into
q subdued pearly tone. In one of the
east rooms, opening off the hall and
inmates s-tting-room, lay Aunt Emily
on a low, black, wooden bed. She had
lain in this room since one April day
when he right side felt numb and
stih and refused to obey her will
! After that stroke of paralysis she was
never able to SIT up longer than an
hour or two. During all this time
Mary Sharpe another inmate, had
! acted rs nurse under the instructions
of Mrs. Winters the stewardess.
This morning Aunt Emily's pale
face looked more sallow than usual
in the subdued light coming through
an old yellow paper curtain. Her thin
gray hair was parted in the middle
and drawn tightly back from the
forehead; the gaunt hands were fold
ed on the faded calico comfort, the
palsied right one underneath. She
had her large brown eyes turned to-
ward the window where the beauty
of the autumn CLEANED.
October frosts had made the hill
sides. that stretch away for miles, a
bright landscape, reminding one OF
Joseph's coat, SO many were the col
ors. Half of the trees had changed
their green foliage for red or yellow,
but some still clung to the old color
as il loath to put on the brighten
shapes of step nearer death. The
corn fields were bare except for the
golden brown shocks that rose here
and there like wigwams. In the pas
lures, yet green, the sheep wandered
under the tall oak trees. Far away
in the distance, the blush gray tops
of the Allegheny mountains looked
down like sentinels on the quiet coun-
try, and the thin, feecy clouds clung
lovingly to their SUBMITS.
Aunt Emily turned her head away
from the window as the door creaked
on its hinges and Mary Sharp en-
tered. Mary was middle-aged wom-
an with lot of copper-colored hair
that was freshly combed, and a kind
face that shone as from q recent wash
ing with kitchen soap. Although she
made visible effort to walk lightly,
her heavy shoes squeaked noiselessly
on the bare floor. She went over by
the bed and sat down in the SCARED
wooden rocking chair and began
swAying tacA and forth, loose rock
er go click, cluck at every motion.
She smoothed down her checked ging-
ham apron and said:
s'How are you feeling to-day, Aunt
Emily?"
about the same. I've just been
thinking low much all things in this
world are alike. Every day the leaves
of those trees over on the hills are
nearer death and decay. They'll soon
be scattered all over the ground"
Mary did not answer for minute
or two, but finally said:
..Well-tae trees will all be green
again next spring"
s'ies. Last spring, Mary, the trees
were green and full of life just as
was when 4 married Andy Dover and
settled down on our 90 acres. For a
while everything was bright. We loved
our little Annie with her long golden
curls and watched her grow into wom-
anhood and marry Clinton Mayes.
Then l buried Andy. But Annie COM
forted me and took me to live with
her. She and Clinton were good to
me; and the children, dear little
things, were so much company"
Aunt Emily paused and wiped her
eyes with one corner Of the un-
hleached sheet. Mary still swayed
back and forth, and the click. cluck
Of the loose rocker was he only noise
that broke the silence except the low
hum of voices and the occasional
chuckle of foolish Ben" from the
other end Of the hall.
"But Clinton wasn't much to blame
for not wanting to keep me any long
err" Aunt Emily went on, as she
cleared her throat. "Annie was sick
Is. and the doctors bill had to be paid,
although the miners wages were cut
down % cents day. My money was
s!l gone, and / wasn't able to work
much. Annie must be sicker now, for
she has not written to me for more
than year, and like the trees l am
withering. look over there," Aunt
Emily pointed with her able hand to
the parper's burying ground across
the road where the soft sunshine,
coming through the trees. touched the
plain boards that marked each mound
s.Mary, I'll soon be there"
Mary gave loud cough. wiped her
face with a piece of unhemmed mus
lin that she took from her apron belt,
and replied:
'tOh. ! reckon not! Annie win
coane for you some day and take you
home to get well. Let me prop you
up in bed before 90 to help get din
ner."
Mary soon had the invalid sitting up
with the two cotton-batting pillows
and a ragged edged comfort at her
back. sI'lI go now if yoa are resting
all right" and the heavy shoes
suueaked across the floor.
Aunt Emily's only answer was: I'm
afraid Annie will never come" As the
sound of squeaking shoes died away
she shook her trembling head and
said slowly: ''She will never come"
In the kitchen the women were help
ing Mrs. Winters get dinner. The
>team was rising from couple of
large iron kettles on the range in
sne corner of the room, and the odor
Of boiling coffee filled the air. Mrs
Winters in gray calico wrapper and
blue apron was putting bacon into .
skillet. Her usually pale face was
flushed from the heat of the stove
Mary got the dishes from the cup
board and took them to the long
table at the other side Of the room.
She wiped OF the brown oilcloth be-
fore setting the dishes in their places.
and, as she worked, the wrinkles in