Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1903-11-21
AGATHA Glars THANKSGIVING
BY HOPE DARING.
CO WO weeks from tomorrow j;

CO WO weeks from tomorrow IL
Thanksgiving. Let Us NO to Orley
"a to spend it." $50 to Olley! Why,
Agatha, you must be craxyt' Agatha
Clair pushed back her unfinished cup of
coffee, a decided frown on ker smooth
white forehead. Indeed, Eugene" there
was a note of irritation In her voice, Il
fail to see why a woman should be pro-
nounced crazy because she expresses a
desire to visit her home, after an alb
sence of year and half" 'Homew
he echoed the word little rsproachfully,
his eyes wandering around the neat din
ing room. This 10 hsma. Agatha. The
first real one we have either Of US had
for years"
The color deepened on the wife's
cheeks. Her husbands words were true,
her girlhood's home, with an uncle in a
distant city, had not been a happy one
This uncle had been too proud to let his
sisters child earn her bread, and as there
had been more pride than love or money
In the home Agatha had realized the
bitterness of the bread of dependence.
The coy farmhouse, shared with the
quiet man who had won her love, had
seemed a haven of peace. Used all her
life to the hustle of a city and to home
crowded with gay young life, Agatha be-
gan, after a time, to long for change.
Just now a letter from her cousins, tell
ing of concerts, lectures and parties,
made the uneventful winter stretching
before her look very dreary.
She sat toying with her spoon until
her husband had finished his breakfast.
Then she looked up, a coaXing light in
her soft gray eyes.
why can't we go, EugeneY'
Cant afford it," he replied little
ungraciousy, for her persistence annoyed
him. Besides the railroad fare, there d
be lot of new clothes wanted and"
Clothes" Agatha was angry now.
"Really, l didn't suppose you knew that
a woman ever had to have clothes. I've
show any such knowledge on your part.
I'm tired of this scrimping and saving
and stagnating."
There was a pause. Husband and
wife confronted each other, both with
flushed faces and hurried breath.
And I'm he began holly. Then,
moved by some memory, he stopped. A
moment later he cried out, "Oh, Agatha.
never dreamed that you felt that way!
1t cost so much for us to start and the
crops have been poor. | thought you UNI
derstood," and breaking off abruptly, he
strobe out through the kitchen on his
way to the barn.
AS the heroine Of a nineteenth century
story, Agatha should have sat down and
burst into tears. But there was little of
the heroic about her. She was only an
ordinary woman whose temper was
aroused. although not to such an extent
that she could entirely forget the unusual
chord of pain in her husbands voice
However, she went about her work set.
ting down her pretty china with an I'M
necessary amount OF energy and saying
TO herself, Il think it downright NEAR
In Eugene. wonder how | shall eyel
endure this long, lonesome winter. NJ
place to go and no one TO see." The mat
ter was not referred TO again. But ther,
was a cloud between husband and wifi,
the first since their wedding day.
The third day after the scene at tn,
breakfast table a neighbor. Mr.. Ferris
called and asked Agatha TO accompan,
A< % q meeting of the Sewing Society