The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1900-10-10
Iwben your mother comes home. That


is what Scarecrow was thinking.
Scarecrow's mother was coming
home. too, tomorrow. Had they
"cured" her at that great, grim hos
pital for sick souls, over there? All
ut once Scarecrow remembered some
thing. She was coming out weeks
earlier, because of good behavior"
they said. Some one had told him.
Scarccrow was conscious suddenly OF
being proud of his mother. He had
never been proud of her in his life
before.
"Dey're goin' to let her out sooner
along O. her behavin' good" he mu-'
INJURED, q little glow warming his thln'
brown cheeks. "Oh, / say, mebbe"-
his voice quavered excitedly-"mebbe
dcy'se cured her."
But there would be no green and
flowers or welcome" on the wall. The
utter contrast smote Scarecrow like
dull blow. He stopped in the street
and sobbed in sudden compassion
There would be no vines, no flowers,
no singing-no anything-when Scare
crows mother came home. That 9TH
er mother would have them all.
Then the silver coins clinked remind
ingly. They bore inspiration straight
from the tattered pocket of despondent
Scarecrow to his brain under the tat
tered cap. Fifty cents will carry
great way sometimes, and it was
Scarecrow trade to carry things.
There were the odds and ends OF
greens and the half wilted flowers that
the florist let him have cheap; there
were the buns and sausages and the
tea-and the bit of sugar and milk.
He carried them all home to the attic
in the dreary alley. All the way up
stairs, flight after flight, Scarecrow
whistled. Across the dark hallway
the invalid woman took up her nee-
die again and smiled.
"Maybe she amt comm home after
all--then 1 don't wonder he feels like
whistlin'," she thought. "It's dread
full good to hear him again"
The little attic was swept and pol
ished and decorated with the treasures
from the florists. Scarecrow got up
at the first ray of daylight to do it.
And he set out his little feast. on the
fitting old table. Over the one little
window he nailed a gigantic w that
he had fashioned patiently out OF
shreds of green. 1t was crooked and
queer, but it was a w, and it began
the word welcome. He would explain
she would understand. - i
81 wish I could remember de way
de other letters went" he thought,
standing off and eyeing the solitary
letter wistfully; but I'll tell her wot it
stan's fer, an how she's welcome
home again, and when she comes in
fe, door I'll set up an whistle, loud.
Dat1nhesde ,singin'."
1t was midway in the dull,wet morn
ing when the mother Of little Scare.
crow came home. Sore-hearted and
hopeless, with the brand of~shame on
her forehead, she dragged hstlessly up
the stairs, flight after fight. She>had
"bcen good'' over on the, Island, but
now
II sayv'' -.... ~.
1t was scarecrow on the upper land
ing, nodding cheerfully. His little
brown, lean, hungry face was elate
with pride.
eyer come along in an look, Will
yerw he cried, eXultantly, hurrying her
before him. "It STAINS fer Welcome,
see?-it's de first letter. couldn't
spell de rest. An de flowers an vines
an de vittles-dey all STAINS fer Wei
GOMEZ" ''''.- ,
Then the boys lips pursed into a
whistle, and the whole decorated little
attic was filled with shrill music.
A moment the mother gazed-for a
moment she listened uncomprehend-
ingly. Then, with understanding,
arose something sweet and warm in
her calloused breast, and she caught
little whistling Scarecrow in her arms.
The music stopped when she kissed
him. He could never remember to
have been kissed before, and the .proph-
esy of better things was in the strange,
warm touch on his lips. The faith OF
little child and the love of mother
were born then, and the squalid lit
tie attic blossomed into 4 home. It
would be easier to "be good" after
that.-The Interior.