The Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1???-1928, 1907-09-23
THE BUREAU DRAWER.
BY Wilmot Warning

Martha Earle lay ON her big four
poster bed, her large bony fingers
plucking restlessly at the patchwork
counterpart which she. had pieced to-
gether herself in the days Of her busy
housewifery. and strange, almost
mystical silence seemed to have set
tied over the New England farm--the
silence of death.
Martha was dying. The big, bust
ling woman had come to the end OF
her days work, and she was aware OF
IT iust as her youngest daughter was,
pretty, delicate Almira Earle, who sat
by her mothers bedside tanning the
dying woman with big palm.leaf fan,
for the heat Of the heavy August after
noon was excessive.
"Almira, I'm dying-ain't II"
Martha Earle broke the dull silence
Of the past hour, and raised herself
heavily on her pillows; but her voice
was no longer hard and autocratic,
and she seemed to speak from dis
tance,
.fMother-my dear, dear mother.
That was all that Almira could an
swer. but her tears betrayed her.
.Armora, don't cry. It's all right
Martha smiled family Listen. honey,
there's something yer have got TO do
for me when I'm dead--somethlng IA
ther and none Of the Others are TO
know about. guess can trust YER
Surely, mother" the girl replied,
softly: then she bent over the other
woman. and propped Martha up In her
soft. warm arms.
"Whea the breath is out OF my
body" Martha continued, take the
little key that yer'll find In my purse
an open the drawer alters keep
locked in my bureau. the small top
drawcr" gave a low, anxious
sigh. "yerll mind which drawer-the
small top one"
Eyes. mother" the girl answered
obediently. The drawer that alters
kept locked" she added.
-Martha's voice dropped TO
a low whisper-"yer'll find a packet OF
letters. an few sprigs OF lavender
a handful of withered rose-petals.
Yer'l burn the letters in the kitchen
fire - burn them to ash, Almira -
trust yer not to read so much as a
word of them. But the dried rose
petals an the lavender--put them In
my coffin, ghosts OF dead flowers. Al
mira-all that's left OF lost summer.
Her voice died into silence.
What does it mean?" whispered
the girl. Mother dear. I'll give yer
my oath that I'll do what yer ask, an
not read one word OF yer letters-but
who wrote them
That's no matter" replied Martha.
Some one who loved me, honey, be-
fore ever your father did. A young
man who went TO New York TO make
a fortune for me, an who came back
too late, for I guess couldn't wait
for Gillian for ever. Besides, there
was yer father an his fine farm, an
my folk all pressing me TO marry.
Didn't yer love father?" Almira
spoke in sharp. strained tones.
Her mother kept a. sullen silence
for a few moments, then she said,
with sudden burst OF newborn
strength:
Il made him a good wife. guess
no one can say hev' not been a good
wife or a good mother. / hev' worked
fer yer father-baked an brewed-
scrubbed an sewn. hev' borne him
sons and daughters. an in my way. ]
hev' loved him"
mot as yer loved the other" Al
mira lowered her voice. "Oh. mother.
mother" she went on. Il understand
II know, alone Of all yer children"
Like enov," the dying woman an
swered Her voice had softened. Il
hev' often thought" she went on
dreau1ily. that yer had queer look
Of him. honey. Yer smile as he used
ter smile, Almira, an yer eyes are
the same deep blue. But there
there" she sighed impatiently. Its
all finished an ended. for put Gillian
out OF my mind and out of my heart
after yer father had given me my wed
ding ring. But / kept his letters
kept them ia locked drawer. Seem
ed as II hadn't the heart to burn
them. nor the withered flowers that
Gillian had plucked me-roses warm
an red when he gave them to me-
sweet smelling an fresh"
A clock on the msnteipiece struck
the hour Of I've. Outside. across the