The Intermountain Catholic. (Salt Lake City [Utah] ;) 1899-1920, 1900-07-07

she sat down upon an old log and
waited for the train
AT last she heard the dull rumble
sound and shrill whistle, and she hnr-
ried to the track, waving her shawl to
signal The train stopped; the con-
duetor helped the passenger aboard.
He noticed that she was a bright-eyed
old lady, very neat and precise.
How far?" he asked.
Boston
Get there in the morning" he said
kindly, waiting for the money, as she
opened a queer little bag, where, under
her knitting, wrapped in a clean cotton
handkerchief, was her purse, with her
savings of long years-the little sums
Ben had sent her. when he first began
to prosper in the west, and some money
she had earned herself by knitting and
berry-picking.
At a road, as they went swiftly
on, she saw the old gray horse, the rat
Ting wagon, and Thomas, with his fam
lily, driving hOmeward.
She drew back with little cry, fear
ing he might see her and stop the train,
but they went on so fast that it could
not be, and the old horse logged into
the woods and Thomas never thought
Aunt Sarah, his charge for twenty
years. was running away.
AT Boston a good-natured conductor
bought her a.through ticket to Omaha
It's long journey for an old lady
like you" he said.
But I'm right smart for my age,
she said, anXiously. i've never had a
days sickness since l was a gal"
Going all the way alone?"
with Gods help she answered,
brightly, and eager to help herself, but
grew silent and thoughtful as the train
took her into strange landscapes where
the miles went so swiftly it seemed like
the past years of her life as she looked
back at them. Taking out her knitting,
she sometimes worked or sat with
folded hands, for few idle days had
there been in her world, and life had
been hard for old Aunt Sarah.
Then as the shades of evening fell
she put her work away and taking out
her beads forgot all else in her devo-
lions.
In the day coach the people were kind
and generous, sharing their baskets
with her and seeing she changed cars
right and her old satchel was safe. So
tended babies for tired women and
talked to men of farming crops, or told
the children stories; but never a word
she said of herself.
On again, guided by kindly hands,
through the bewildering city by the
lake, and now through yet stranger
land. Tired and worn by nights in the
uncomfortable seats, her brave spirit
began to fail a little. And as the day
wore on and still the long, monotonouS
land showed no hahitation, no oasis Of
green. her eyes dimmed, something like
a sob rose under the black handker-
chief on the bowed shoulders, and the
spectacles were taken off with a trem-
bling hand and put away in the worn
case.
BE We goin' fur mother?" said an
old farmer. He had brought her cup
of coffee at the last station, and had
pointed out on the way things he
thought might interest her.
ITO Omaha" she quietly answered.
Then she grew communicative, for
she was always a chatty old lady, and
she had possessed her soul in silence so
long that it was 2 relief to tell the
story of her many years of waiting to
a kindly listener.
She told him all the relations she had
were two grandnephews and their
families. That twenty years ago Ben
(for she had brought them both up
when their parents died of consump-
tion) went out west. He was always
adventurous. and for ten years she did
not hear from him; but Thomas was
different and steady, and when he came
of age she had given him her farm,
with the provision she should always
have a home, otherwise he would have
gone away, too. Well, for five years
they were happy, then Thomas mar
ried. and his wife had grown to think
her a burden as the years went on, and
the children, when they grew big, did
not care for her, she felt she had lived
too long.
Il growed so lonesome" she said, pa
thetically. lit seems l couldn't take up
heart to live day by day, and yet /
knowed our folks was long-lived. Ten
wears back, when Ben wrote me he was
dom fair and sent me money; 1 begun
to think of him, fur he was allus gen
erous and kind and the gratefulest boy,
an so 1 begun to save to go to him, for
l knowed / could work my board for a
good many years to come. For three
years he amt hardly wrote, but laid
that to the wild kentry he lived in.
But what will you do if Ben amt in
Omaha?" asked the farmer.
II have put my faith in Cod" she
answered, simply, and the stranger
could not mar that trust by any word
of warning.
He gave her his address as he got
off at his stopping place, and told her
to send him word if she needed help.