Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1907-09-12
THE BUREAU DRAWER
BY Wilmot Warning

sSthVA hSioOAA III ttO 0ay Va hOi buSy
iousewifery, and strange, almost
MYSTICAL silence seemed to have set.
led over the New England farm-the
silence of death.
Martha was dying. The big. bust.
ing woman had come to the end of
Ter days work, and she was aware Of
Just as her youngest daughter was,
pretty, delicate Almira Earle, who sat
~ her mothers bedside tanning the
lying woman with big palm-leaf fan.
or the heat of the heavy August after
loon was excessive.
"Almira, I'm dying-ain't II"
Martha Earle broke the dull silence
u 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
.ance.
"Mother--my dear, dear mother!"
That was all that Almira could an
swer but her tears betrayed her.
"Almora, don't cry! It's all right"
Martha smiled family. Listen, honey,
there's something yer have got to do
,cr me when I'm dead-something ia
Their 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.
when the breath Is out OF my
body" Martha continued, take the
little key that yerll find In my purse,
an open the drawer | alters keep
locked in my bureau, the small top
drawer"-she gave low, anxious
sigh. "Yer'll mind which drawer--the
small top one"
"Yes, mother" the girl answered
obediently. The drawer that alters
kept locked" she added.
Inside"-Martha's voice dropped to
a low whisper-'yerll find packet Of
letters, an few sprigs of lavender
q handful of withered rose-petals.
Yern 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 1t 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
q fortune for me, an who came back
too late, for 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"
IT ,dn't yer love father?" Almira
spoke in sharp, strained tones.
Her mother kept sullen silence
for a few moments, then she said
with a sudden burst OF newborn
strength:
Il made him a good wife. guess
no one can say hev' not been a good
wife or q 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
Il know, alone of all yer children"
Like enow," the dying woman an
swered. Her voice had softened. II
hey' often thought" she went on
dreamily, 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 l kept his letters
kept them in locked drawer. Seem.
ed as II I 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 mantelpiece struck
the hour of five. Outside, across the
fields, came the faint lowing Of cattle;
the golden day was wearing to its
close.
"Put me down again on my pillow"
commanded Martha.
A rigid sternness came over the
face. She was bracing herself to face
the Valley of Great Silence and the
stream which is cold as ice.
"Ill fetch father" murmured Almira
softly. Then she bent and kissed
Martha Earle with rare passion. "Oh.
mother, mother" she whispered. IAN
l never guessed"
Martha Earle took no notice OF her
daughters speech. She had done with
all earthly matters, her concern with
this worlds affairs was over.
II was late--close on midnight-be-
fore Almira found time and opportuni.
ty to fulfill her dead mothers request.
Moonlight was pouring into the large
bedroom through the window, and
shining on the white figure that lay
stiff and rigid on the bed.
Almira's hands trembled little as
she unlocked the drawer, then she
started back with a low cry. for the
drawer was bare and empty-swept
and garnished.
Mother" she cried In low tones,
addressing the motionless woman,
yer burnt the letters and forgotten
got as the busy years went by"
The dead woman made no answer.
The Marvel of identity.
Seasons may come and 60 Hone