The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1900-07-27

AL tCA AduCu, pACttJ Oiu cS cbs
A bright thought came to save me
from despair-if only she could be
made to share 1t. A Tennessee senator
had just made some kind of sensation
in congress said: "You know Sena-
tor Lawton, don't you? Then why
can't you take this paper and fix it all
up as happening on Senator Lawton's
place? You've been there. You can
easily make it accurate, then. You see,
il you can make it fit In with some
thing that is going on that the papers
are full Of just now it will go. 1t Is
hardly enough to make it simply about
the present season, though that is well,
but if you show what the Lawtons'
home is like | am sure you can sell it
to The Earth, and they will pay you
better than this paper will"
She looked pitifully dubious. "You
don't think it would be infringing on
the laws of hospitality?" she said.
"You don't need to be personal and
Jenkinsy.' | hastened to assure. her,
''and you might write to Colonel Law
ton for permission to tell about his sor-
ghum presses"
~ know what you mean," she said,
"about the new, curt, quick way Of
writing. have noticed it In the pa
pers, only thought perhaps it was be-
cause they couldn't write any other
way. But l can try to do it, too, If
that Is what they like up here in the
north. And I'll tell anything about the
Lawton place that seems unobjection-
able. I'm glad you think he won't dis
like it. And now, my dear, I'll take
myself away. / am sure you are CIV
ing me far too much time, but you can
just tell them, my child, that you don't
see one every day up here who knows
all about you for three generations.
Dear, dear, 1t does seem too bad to
leave you here all by yourself SO, and
you so young! What would your
grandfather TIL But, then, your
grandfather would be very proud Of
your talents. Adeline, and he was a
man who knew that we have to adapt
ourselves to circumstances, and I'm
sure these gentleEen all seem very
very !no..ausiye." And she overlooked
the hardworking, scribbling crowd
bent over their desks.
Softly fluttering over me In this fash
ion to the very elevator door, she final
ly took her leave.
soon learned what seemed all the
main facts of her little story-her
great, tragic, human story-filled, as
everybody's story is, with experiences
at once terrible and commonplace.
She had been left widow with two
little children while still young wo-
man. The children, boys, had both
died only a few years later, and she
had spent most of her life as childless
widow IN her widowed fathers house.
She was his only child. He had died
near the beginning Of the war. Most
of their property had been lost. Mrs.
Overman had since then made what
shift she could. and now In her old age,
with courage rooted in inborn gallan-
try of soul and also in ignorance of
this rough world, she had come to this
strange land, "the north.' to try to
make her living by writing.
How foreign and far away this part
Of our common country seemed to her
probably only southerner can realize.
Fundamental IDEAS affect many rami-
fications of feeling as well as thought,
and the weakness Of the idea of nation
ality at the south sharpens many a
homesick pang in many a traveller and
exile still in his own country.
That Mrs. Overman succeeded as
well as she did was q continual mar
vel to me. There was dauntlessness
about the frail, delicate, lady bred old
woman that made me proud of the civ
ilization-if you will permit the word
that had produced her.
/ sympathize with the point of view
that finds southern aristocratic preten-
sions humorous. They certainly had
far less basis of material splendor than
the simple minded aristocrats them
selves Imagined, and l doubt not that
there is and will be in the future some
thing better In this world than any
kind of aristocracy, but for the bless
ings of commercial democracy we
pay good deal. and my provincial lit
tie old woman exemplified the high
hearted virtues of the old regime In her
union of fine pride, courage, cheerful
ness and gentleness as nobly as If her
claims to blue blood We're based on
something more imposing than an an
cestry of two or three generations of
backwoods dignitaries. The obliga-
tions Of an aristocracy were strong
upon her.
little dreaded visiting her in her
boarding house. thought ] knew
what 1t would be like, and / felt 1t
would be rather wretched to see her in
the midsteof Its cheap frivolities and
poor pretensions. but found she had
discovered for herself a place very diff
ferent from my imagination-not vul-
gar. though offering hardships enough
to such one as Miss Fanny. as we
must now in common friendliness be-
gin to call her.
"It Is woman's boarding house,
dear, business woman's house." she
explained to me as we sat side by side
on an immense halrcloth sofa In the
clean. mournful, self respecting parlor.
Miss Mary Barnwell told me about
1t before ! came on here. You never
saw Miss Mary, did you? Your mother
knew her. She Is n lovely woman. She
was Timothy Barnwelrs daughter, that
endowed the college In Wexville, and
Miss Mary teaches there. She comes
on to New York in the summer some
times. and she stops here. 1t made me
feel so much more at home to come to
place I'd heard Mary tell about, and
! think II Is very sheltered and protect