The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1901-06-28
The
kennedys'
Fourth Of July
aAMAMA.aAmA.amAMAM NAA@AwA~A

The postmaster-wh was also the vii
| lage blacksmith had just come in from
the forge. He was huge, clumsy crea-
ture, with whisky REDEEMED face and a
kindly smile. He was sorting a bundle Of
letters between his big, blackened fingers.
] The little old man at the outer side Of the
! partition was watching him with an ex-
| preston of timorous entreaty.
Seems like l seen letter here for
! you, Mr.. Kennedy. Sophy," he called to
| his wife, who sat sewing in the rear of
the room, 'hain't there a letter here for
MI. Kennedy r. sss -
Eyes, there is. It's Ceeelia's writin
too. It's toierable thick letter. Look
again, Bill"
ssFIere it is-I've got it, He passed
an envelope through the little wooden
| gated aperture to the knotty brown hand
tremblingly outstretched to receive it.
]. It is from her, amt it, Mr.. Kennedy?
Comm home, maybe"
I'll don't know. That's what I'm
wonderin." He had laid the letter down
on the ledge and was eagerly fastening a
pair of spectacles behind his ears Land,
land, if it should be, what would mother
| whatever would she sayr'
He was a weather beaten old farmer,
| with a clean cut, clean shaven face--a'
face that despite its irmness of feature,
was full Of gentleness. The well shaped
| old head was matched with gray hair,
and the eyes back of the glasses were sin
cere and sympathetic
NO" he announced in tone of disap-
! pointment. He had got the letter open at
| last and was reading it rapidly. She's
at the exposition, an she wanted we
| should know she was well an happy, an
| hopin we was the same, an-that's about
| all. oh, yes, an she's sent mother a dress
pattern. 'Twould be at the deepo' same
time as this letter come. She's reel good
hearted, Cecilia is. She-she went away
soon after you folks settled here" The
old eyes We're wistfully lifted. II don't
| suppose you remember her right WELL"
he concluded.
ooh, yes, | do" returned Bill Wheeler
heartily. 'The prettiest grill said so to
| Sophy when | seen her-didn't /, Sophy :?
The prettiest girl in these parts"
"She was good GIRL too" put in the
old man eagerly "There wasn't no better
girl around than Cecilia. But after that
winter we sent her to school in Hastings
She was young, an she found it lonesome.
1t was lonesome, with only mother an me
there There was them that said she
ought to have let us know she was goin,
but / say to mother she. couldn't bear to
tell us goodby. She's wrote regular since,
but her letters come from lots Of ff'rent
towns. The lady she's companion for is
one that's allus takin towers, they call
'em. 1t is pleasant life for my girl. An
the wages is good, butt Though his lips
continued to move, the remainder of the
sentence was inaudible. "I'll be goin
down to the deepo' now" he said.
Thanks to you, Mr.. Wheeler"
THAT'S all right; good day to your
And, when the door had closed behind old
man Kennedy, Wheeler stood silent
moment or two.
Somehow it makes me feel queer to
hear him talk that way, Sophy. It's six
years since she run off, She weren't but
10 then. An all she's done is send 'em
presents-ain't ever come a-nigh 'em."
Mrs Wheeler, a scrawny, dyspeptic
looking creature, bit her thread off with
vicious jerk.
"Bet there's good reason she don't. |
alluS said she was no account girl, an
it's safe to guess she hain't improved
none"
sSho, now, Sophy," he demonstrated.
II wouldn't be too sure Of that. Like as
not she's earnin her money honest"
"Liker'n not she amt" retorted Sophy
tartly and resumed her sewing
Old man Kennedy plodded off with his
basket and, after getting package at
the depot, drove home. The sun had gone
down, but the mellow brilliance Of the
afternoon still fingered as he turned into
the road that led to his farm. Waist high
and green as sea water the corn rippled
away to the horizon in limitless pillows
The light wind driving over the oats set
it courtesying in fantastic undulations or
bowed it in temporary depressions of
bronze brown shadow And in the hedges
of Usage orange and honey locust were the
whir of the wings and the twitter Of bird
vespers.
His wife was waiting for him when he
stopped in front of the house before driv-
ing around to the barn
You got the groceries, father, an
what's this? A present from Cecelial
My dear little daughter! letter too!
Oh, let the horses wait, father. You
must read 1t TO me Why, your hand is
burnin. Are you sick?
'sNo-no.s He>iumbercd down over the
wheel. "I'Il tell you in minute. Lis
ten.v He read aloud for her the lines her
eyes had grown too dim to deeipher,
When he had come to the end he burst
out with the plan which was to electrify
her He spoke so fast he stumbled over
his words and repeated himself But at
last it was clear to her. They were to
spend the Fourth Of July at the exposi-
ton. And II was possible Cecilia would
still be in the city with her mistress And
ecstatic possibility might see her.
"There's no address on the letter." he
hurried on, "but we might meet her, or
we could put in the paper that Mr.. and
Mrs. Kennedy was stoppin- wherever we
might bean was hopin to receive call
from friend. We might say a young
lady friend But we wouldn't put her
name, for belize the lady she lives with
is that grand she'd not be maxim so much
Of an aquil of the choild If she was to see
how plain we are. Say we'll CO. mother"
sWell go!' Tears splashed down on
the letter she still held, but they were
happy tears, being begotten by hope "Id
go to the ends of the earth just to hold
her hand awhile an hear her voice I'd
know at the first sound Of it if she was
as happy as she says she is--at the first
sound'
"But you won't ask her to come home
for spell, Nance"
II can't. You wouldn't yourself" The
rines of sfubhotn nl.ida was in her voisa