The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1901-06-23
BY KATHERINE S. McQUOID.

I he pointed to q seat under the porch
you'll command Q view Of the schoolhouse
gate"
Troublesome little things: I afraid they
plague the schoolmistressr"
It's all In her days work, ma'am. She
don't grumblc or expect all the little hills
to be made straight for her. Maybe she's
glad Of small troubles to a her thoughts
from their anxious straytng. Did you know.
ma'am. her husband 10 afflicted. and has to
live away from her? He was % much
worse after he last saw her that she dares
not ask to 20 again." Stonor coughed while
he spoke: II seemed to me he had become
thinner and paler.
tn afraid you're not very strons7"
He coughed again; II seemed a hard, tire
some cough.
II was strong enough once. ma'am." I
suppose I looked anxiously at him. for he
smiled a. no met my Eyes. You are so
With my troubles': his eyes looked strange
y pathetic a. he lowered his voice. "A
heavy sorrow oams to me once. ma'am.
and I've never been. - to say. well since"
A fresh At Of coughing seemed almost to
choke him: I fancisd Il was caused by his
he wiped his forshsad with his handker-
chief. Il went on for months. hoping
against hope'-he paused-"for that which
never came" he aid slowly.
You must 20 In and rest now" I led the
way into the neatly ordered cottage. al
ways fresh and airy: Job stonor loved open
windows.
He drew a chair forward for me.
mo. ! am going to take you in hand,
etcnor. I know something Of nursing, and
II I stay. you'll talk to me. and you had
better not talk Just now. / shall ask Doc
tor Dacrs to call on you: he'i give you
something to ease that cough"
YIA HhaNk>A go "a la a~~-~a a. 49, t.
Quiry. owned that he had had q disturbed
night He said this with q smile. a. II he
I'D not In any way regret the loss Of sleep.
I had heard him tell Mrs. stubhs he be-
neved We were not meant to sorrow for
anything except sin.
As I wa leaving him the birds began
their evening song.
d but listen. ma'am." he said: the
birds and the flowers have taught me many
q lesson In praise and thanksgiving since /
came to the country: till this last week or
30 there was a nightingale used to pour cut
song all the night through In the sp!nney
yonder. and at dawn the lark began his
hymn OF praise"
When I spoke TO Doctor Dacre. he prom
ised to call on the verger. but he said he
feared the man would never lose his cough.
ut has come to stay" the doctor said
rather sadly.
III.
1t was a day In March that reminded one
Of highly polished steel. Sunshine glittered
brilliantly on everything. but there was no
glow In the glare Of light. Sc keen a wind
swept round the corners that II seemed to
cut ones eyes and nose and fingers. ! had
been gardening. cutting back a purple
clematis. which should have been seen to a
month earlier. II there had not been so
much sickness in the village. An inroad OF
influenza had kept US both extremely busy.
but Mary Stetson had helped us wonderful
ly. 1t was a relief when she said she
should not leave the manor-house till May.
for she had gone way early in the pre-
vious year with her father to the Riviera.
Put on your gloves"-she was talking to
me while I transplanted my pansies-"your
fingers are blue with cold. What are you
going to do with that little heap Of green
thingsr'
Il beg you to speak more respectfully Of
pet children: those are for Job Etonor.
He wants them for a grave for which he
says heartsease Is especially suited"
Poor man: I heard his cough as I came
out Of church. Shall ! call In as l go back
and take him your pansiesT"
mo. thank you; I have not been up to
see him very lately. there has been SO
much illness at the other end OF the vii
iage;",
soon as possible. but there was a long de-
lay before / could get away. Our cooks