The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1904-08-26
Out of the
Ashes.
ONE afternoon she had heard mover
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By Ralph Henry Barbour.

tine afternoon she had heard movers
~ in the hall, and knew that the
fourth-fioor studio had been taken
The next morning unfamiliar sounds
fell from above-a mans voice, deep
and musical, leaping up and down the
scale, cheerful, companionable tor
rent of melody that brought respon-
sive smile to her face. After that she
heard it frequently. Sometimes it be-
gan early in the morning, while she
was yet busy over the tiny gas-stove;
sometimes it broke off in the middle,
and left her hearkening almost breath
lessly for the next note; sometimes
day or two passed without a sound
from the fourth floor, and she was dim
ly conscious of sort of loneliness quite
new to her who had experienced so
many sorts.
At first she had thought him a
teacher of music. Later she knew the
bursts of melody were but outpourings
of triumph, that he burst into song
when life and work were going well,
just as she. when she had finished a
howl or tray or bit of barbaric jewelry
that satisfied her soul, perked her
little brown head like sparrow, puck
cred her red lips. and whistled tune
with ludicrous effect.
On the door of her room was a
modest placard announcing to the
world that
ELIZABETH DAY
Designer and Worker in Metals
lived within. 1t had taken a deal of
courage to print that Elizabeth" for
all of her life-25 years, to be exact
she had been simply Beth" an abbre-
Walton far more suited to her diminu-
tive stature and gentle ways than the
more pretentious entirety. Nature
had intended her, with her soft and
dainty femininity for life of Deepen
dency in some still. untroubled corner
of the world; Fate had forced her at
70 into the swirling current of New
York. AS yet her work-bowls, trays
and vases of silver, copper and brass
decorated with enamel, bracelets,
chains and buckles set with unpublished
stones-beautiful and distinctive as 1t
was, sold slowly. But she possessed a
wealth of courage and perseverance
all unsupported ere the death of her
parents had sent her from the little
New Hampshire village to seek her
fortune. She had been in the old house
OF Washington Square almost two
years when the fourth-fioor studio
found tenant
One day she had learned his name.
Seeking letters from the pile in the
lower hall, she had found a colorman' s
catalogue addressed to John Timson,
ESQ.," She had smiled at the name:
Timson was so unusual and quaint
and-funny! John she liked; her
fathers name had been John. All tn
morning, as she worked at the dull
copper, she strove to picture a person
atty BETTING the name of John Tim
son.
A week later she saw him. They met
on the stairs, and he drew aside for
her; she passed. with a little inelina-
ton of her head. All the way TO the
top she felt his gaze upon her; but
recalling the grave eyes and respect
full manner, she felt 10 annoyance, only
wondered about the placket of her
skirt. After that they bowed, and then
spoke. Meetings became frequent.
Once he had found her under the
striped awning of an Eighth street
grocery waiting for a shower to pass.
He had no umbrella to offer, so he
shared her Imprisonment; and after
ward, when the sun came out and
shone resplendently on the wet roofs
and pool-dotted sidewalks, they went
home together and discussed quite in
the manner of long acquaintances the
relative merits of fresh and condensed
milk
That day she had examined him to
her hearts content. He was tall; her
head came just to his shoulder when
she tried hard. He was wide of chest
and shoulder, and his hands, brown as
though from long exposure to sun and
wind, were large and capable. His
mustache and short beard were brown.
as were the grave and earnest and
deep-set eyes. The nose was straight