The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1903-04-02
THE 1.-THE PILLOWS
BY RosHwILLIs JOHNSON.

| through the ollyrEreen. The little Pillows
watched her lazaH
Lets go 'slppe, 'Phim," Audley sug-
gested. Its lonesome. Wisht I'd went
with daddyv'
Seraphim reached back to a refractory
button. She was slim, quick, dark-the
brains of the family. Aud,ey was the
commonplace middle" Aristotle the baby
All right she said. Lets! There
are berries down by Auntie Hibbard's
Come ONT won't be supper time till
daddy comes, if that's tomorrow
There was n quiet exodus across the
plank, along path worn by their feet.
They were barefoot all: Seraphim's dis
couraged button gave up, and rolled away
IN the mud. Audley had the brim of a
hat. and AristOtle-dear little chubby
Iotle"-hadn't even brim. But the
sunshine of contentment radiated from
each face.
Rabbit Hollow lay green and still under
cloudless skies. The path made many
turns, ending At Auntie Hibbard's.
Auntie Hibbard was the poorest person
in Rabbit Hollow, and was aunt to every
body's children. Her hut stood close to
the grade. behind n clump Of marsh will
lows. There were holiyhocks in profusion,
white, pink and red, and the broad, kindly
| faces of sunflOwers leaned against the
whitewashed walls.
Auntie Hubbard had grown old in this
spot. She was happy sOui--poverty
never hurt her. There is a painful stage
of poverty; she and the little Pillows had
slipped past that. With nothing to con-
ceal, no pretensions to keep up, there was
little to distress.
A cheerful, monotonous bang-bang
troubled the lazy air. Seraphim stopped
wonderingly. why" she exclaimed,
'Auntie Hibbard's in the loom!'
back across the -slimmeriDg garden.
The girl pressed forward. '.For goodness
sake. ,Auntie," she said, what are you
doing?"
A 'kerchiefed white head peered around
at her.
"Come in, 'Phim: come in.' she smiled
''Set. Why, dariin,' I'm got job. / amt
had nothin' better'n knittin' this long time.
The lovely rain we had a week ago
brought me great good luck"
at wasn't lovely rain, either" Audley
pOuted. 1--WE couldn't play out bit. We
wanted berry cobbler, and couldn't get the
berries
Auntie Hubbard regarded him with large
compassion. How should he know, babe
as he was, that Gods free winds blow
good to some one always?
'Ye got the cobbler next day, doubtless, y
she said gently. ''The waitin' did We good
lit larned ye." She came back to her
theme. 1T rained hard. dear, We remem-
Der. A carriage came down the grade
stopped at me door. A Vision go out-a
Vision, Seraphim.l 1t was never no COM
mon mortal likejyou and me.''
Seraplim waited, with looks of awe.
She had smiling eyes," Auntie contin-
ued. She was very young. The silk of
the corn curled round her pretty neck.
She talked wi me, and was in no haste.
though the clouds broke. She spied my
bit. broken sugar sbowI and my mother
loom. Can you weave? she asked. and
laughed at her. Sure l said Granny.
she said, .weaveme pair of blankets. If
you will I'll give you $40 in gold There,
'Phim!''
''Therew 'Phim answered, as she ought
II went to THY Pinter's for the carded
wool. A week is been spinning. l find
I'm slow as l 1sed to be. Yesterday /
warped. See hQwtpretty the twill runs!'
t. The cloth, growing with the movement
of hands and feet, was indeed thing to
admire. 'Phim watched her breathlessly.
She knew what Anntie' would say next
she felt the thought-presence.
Ten dollars, 'Phini-$1O! Now Benny
shall have the marble for his little grave!
It's what I've always wanted, for he
sleeps among so many babies, my dear
so very many babies? I've had n fear
there was break in her vOice-'a fear !
might get him mixed! It's worried me o.
nights. Marking-stakes rot and blacken.
and things change in looks as new babies
keep crowdin' in. Doubtless the graveyard
man could always set me right-but I'd
never be sure, if once 1 got 'wildered l
went to the marbleman. He'll gi' me n
nice little stOne-about so big-wi' his
name and age, for $40. But the money
must be had down."
Out of the scanned. white face looked
blue and youthful eyes. There were tears
in them.
"You didn't know Benny. did you,
darlin'? He was my grandbaby. His
mother died when he was born-his father
was just no count. Benny was a great
comfort. He was like vi'let that blooms
out in the Fall-when it has no business
to-and is Il surprise all the time it stays.
He was just leven months cd when he
went-just Il dot in n red calico slip.
creepin' over the floor, but he creeps there
yet!
There was pup as used to sleep in
yOn closet. Ben was rather feared o. the
pup, but he'd crawl across. fling wide the
door, and look back at me and scod.
Sometimes he'd venture clear inside. with
the pup-set and watch him. He called
the pup tat and me 'Nin-nin' Don't you
know l step soft yet-though its five
years gone-and listen for his little
voice.
Her words dwindled away into silence.
| Doubtless she was seeing the baby in red
calico, its dimpled hands on her floor.
Phim Obeyed an irresistible impulse to go
to the hanted closet, but there was moth
ing there but the rag-bag, an ancient
feather buster and cobwebs
Every afternoon now the children went
TO Aunty Hibbard's to watch the blankets
grow. "They do grow, 'Totlew Auntie
teased: Like things you put in the
ground and cover up. You'll see. Some
day they'll be-big enOugh-to wrap a
giant!'
They were done ut last bleached to
creamy whiteness and folded away. Then
Auntie and her loyal comrades waited for
the Vision.
The little Pillows saw her carriage pass
one day. Where the road bends to the
river, tall, plume-like. fiery weeds run
riot The Vision stopped and filled her
hands. "For Auntie," they surmised
By and by the ponies came back around
the bend, glittering and prancing, to be
lost once more in cloud of dust. Then
'Phm called her followers.
"We'll go to Auntie," she said eagerly
Don't be noisy. children. This is her great
day--she will want you to be good"
Auntie was sitting Oh the step, Il gentle
joy shining in her young eyes. She held
up something triumphantly.
"I've got it, Seraphim! She was good
as her word. Ten dollars. in shining