The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1902-03-05

or out to the farm WIN Aunt hachei
We won't urge either course, but you
must decide something before Satur-
day."
Mary's mother stood In the doorway,
buttoning her gloves. She looked anx.
iously at Mary. who sat on the lowest
step, holding three open letters that
she evidently was eager to read.
well. mother dear. here is my last
complete and unconditional deci'
sion'
Really. Mary? You aren't going to
have another before night?"
mo. mother, I've wavered long
enough"
"You certainly have"
Don't be 'sarcastlcal' to your one
and only Mary" said the one and only
Mary. with an embrace that almost
ruined her mothers chiffon ruchings.
You see. mother. II | go to Aunt
Rachel's, shall get so bored that
Aunt Rachel will regret she ever
asked me. ana forget that she had ever
labeled me n sunny presence Or
course II would be near enough Tor
Cousin Burney to come out aud stir
It's up but Burney is so absorbed In
his summer hospital that he can talk
of nothing else nut slum children with
the measles. Burney is a perfect bore
at times-since he got his NJ. d."
my dear"
Nov don't be shocked with your
own Mary. | don't mean anything
dreadful, but I'm not Interested in
measles and germs. Now If | go with
you I'll have lovely time. and Aunt
Rachel will be none the worse In the
end So | am going with you. Are
you glad?' she asked, with a wheed.
lesome smile.
"Of course I want you myself, dear;
but Aunt Rachel does need the sunny
presence. She is so lonely! II you
should change your mind again, re-
member that Aunt Rachel will enjoy
having as many of your friends visit
you as the house will hold" said her
mother.
"Ye-es. | know; but I shall not
change my mind now. In fact, don't
want to go to Aunt Rachels. mother.
don't like farms, and would rather
go with you"
A little shadow came over her
mothers face; but she merely said:
Then IL Is decided that you go with
u.s."
Aren't you glad?"
81 am always glad to have you with
me. Your father and I would be quite
desolate indeed without you; but,
dear. | wish you would learn to be
more Interested"
"In uninteresting people? Perhaps
shall some time, but | am so tired of
them now Durney doesn't know any
other kind: and really mother. |
couldn't stand a whole summer filed
with a farm-and-and Burney's in
evitable enthusiasm over dirty little
children-aside from Aunt Rachel
who Is always urging me to help
Burney. No, it's dreadful! But don't
believe in Burney's giving up his sum
mer to keeping children alive who
have nothing to live for"
I'VE won't discuss that again." her
mother said, gravely. 81 must go
now. Good-by, dear"
Mary returned to her seat on the
steps. Mother doesn't understand" >"
she thought, wistfully. 81 never want
| ed Burney to study medicine; and to
| give his time to saving lives that are
better ended, when he might at least
| save valuable ones, 1t Is too much. |
simply won't stay near him all sum-
mer and listen to him! 1t will teach
him lesson" she concluded virtuous-
| ly.
She had never wholly forgiven her
cousin because he had, against her
advice, studied medicine with the in
tention of devoting himself to the free
wards of the city hospitals for chill
| dren.
"Why don't you do something that
will benefit humanity, Burney.' she
had repeatedly said, instead of keep
ing children alive who have no past
no present and no future but misery?"
"You don't understand" Burney as
repeatedly had said, that am reliev'
ing their misery for the moment. You
| don't know what they may have 70
live for. They are little human chill.
dren and have a right to their lives
they want them, and l shall help them
keep them"
"You are very foolish and sentimen-
tal," Mary said; but possibly she re
spected his foolishness and sentimen-
tality more than she admitted.
81 think Burney might at least con-
slider his family and come to Califor-
MIA, instead of setting up summer
Fresh Air Hospital" she said plain
lively to herself, as she unfolded her
first letter.
1t was from Aunt Rachel; and 1t
said, in part, II hope that you will
spend the summer with me,
dearie. ! am getting to be an old
woman, and won't lave many more
summers. You may fill the house
with 'Iretty maids all in a row. ii
you like. Do be kind to Burney
He is doing a noble work. Let him
| taD oh