The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1901-09-27

Mayhem, hanging up her birdcage al
the right of the dove colored door
thrilled with sudden joy and lifted hel
eyes to the tall alder tree. Surely that
was Spring herself tiptoeing across the
hills in her pale green gown, with
blown golden hair about her and the
laughter of rills following after heI
footsteps. There was a wreath of stal
flowers around her brow, and about hel
waist was buttercup zone. Her breath
had the sweetness of wild rose thick
ct, and she bore the altar Of lost &c.
stasy in the pink cup of her hand. And
all, the irresistible lure of her
Then a cloud fell upon Mrs. May.
hew's face. She turned with sigh and
entered the house. Her brow was lined
deep with care.
A sweeter faced woman than she had
never come to that western town. She
had laughed and sung herself, in sheer
happiness, into every ones heart. The
men admired her; the women loved
her; her husband adored her. For two
years she had been the envied leader
of all-the most beautiful, the most
gracious, the most accomplished Of her
sex.
Then the change came. The choir,
the church, the Red Cross society,
knew her no more. She was not well,
she said, and her white face and dark
circled eyes We're silent witnesses in
proof of the assertion. At first there
was wonder. then curiosity, then put
ting together of heads and gossip.
Mrs. Mayhem suspected nothing.
There were other things to occupy her
thoughts. Life was holding another
cup-a new cup-to her lips. and she
was drinking it without murmur.
The graveSt sin one can commit
against her neighbors is to bear a
trouble in silence without taking them
into her confidence. This sin. Mrs.
Mayhem had committed. People of a
certain belief, endeavoring to explain
their conception of sin and it's newt
able punishment to unenlightened
minds, usually assure us In childlike
argument that ''if we put our hands in
to the fire we will be burned" When
Mrs. Mayhem kept things" from her
neighbors, she was unconsciously put
ting her small hand into a hot fire. A
day was to come when she would take
it out, only to learn that it was too late
for remedies to be of avail.
On this spring day, then, she hung
the birdcage on the right side of the in
nocent looking door. A few moments
later man came hurrying from the
dark wood. She opened the door at
once and admitted him.
Twenty minutes later Mrs. Dean,
Mrs. Frazer and Mrs. Hostetter stood
before the same door and looked at one
another. Their hearts had pumped the
blood all away from their faces.
"Shall we knock" questioned Mrs.
Dean in thin whisper.
KNOCK" said Mrs. Hostetter's un-
compromising bass. "And give him
time to hide? What's the use in comm
if we don't take 'em by surprise? Let
me git a-holt of that door handle You
both look as white as pillowslips. I'll
lead the way. amt afraid
The door swung open readily, and
they rustled and swished into the wide
hall. They closed the door behind them
and stood listening. The hall ran clear
through the house, with rooms opening
into it on both sides. From a room at
the farther end a murmur of voices
came family through closed door,
They looked at one another and nodded
their heads silently.
Down the hall, huddled together like
frightened sheep-only sheep are in
nocent things and harmless-went Mrs.
Hostetter, Mrs. Frazer and Mrs. Dean.