Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1907-12-24
PeneI0pe
Problem.
BY Constance DARCY Mackay.
Copyrighted. lsU7. BY c. H. sutcliffs.

ooooooooOOOOO0
It was nearing the first week OF
July. The sun blazed down on TIE
noisy. unshaded street wiers Penelope
Compton lived. and the air was rifo
with the smell Of heat parched brick
and pavement. Penelope's sister,
Ruth, a pale, gaunt young girl, spoke
from the sofa, where she lay propped
up with pillows.
Don't you think there's any way,
PenelOpeY'
"None 80 far, DEAR" said Penelope
cheerfully. But one never knows
what may turn up"
For ut least month Penelope had
been hunting a place In the country
that should shelter her widowed moth
er, her sister and herself and be with
| in the compass Of her slender purse.
With two invalids boarding was out
Of the question. and summer cot
tage. no matter how small. had 80 far
been beyond the means Of Penelope,
the breadwinner Of the family.
| frail but determined girl, the idol OF
| the crowded city schooroom In which
she taught Day after day since
| school closed she had answered adj
vertisements. only to be disappointed.
And 1t was imperative that the two
invalids should have country air. Ruth
grew paler week by week. and Mrs.
Compton-but Penelope never dared
TO think OF that. for she needed all
the courage ut her command. On THIS
particular afternoon the pathetic pa
tience OF Ruth's question nerved Pencil
ope to further effort. Something must
be found! 1t was matter Of life and
death!
Rising suddenly from her seat by
the window. Penelope caught up her
hat that lay on chair near by and
began to pin 1t on with swift. nerv-
GUS gestures.
"Are you going to try again" said
Ruth. the quickening Of hope In her
voice.
81 am going to take street car-any
Garland 90 out to the end Of the line
and then ask from door to door till /
find what want" said Penelope We
hemently. do you feel strong enough,
dear. TO be left alone with motherT
ooh. YES" responded Ruth. brighten
Ing. as she always did ut the expecta-
ton that their FL Dorado might yet be
reached.
| Penelope stumbled blindly upon the
first car that came Beneath her brave
exterior she was weary and sick at
| heart. but the keen rush Of the air past
her Us the car left the crowded streets
and took a downward grade in more
sparsely populated district was tonic
| and refreshing She began to feel less
| tired less hopeless. The car whiZzed
on through suburbs with trim. fenced
In houses and green fields that stretch
ed away In pleasant undulatiOns. The
leaves of the trees rustled. silver green
In the afternoon light. When the end
Of the line was reached Penelope got
out. her spirits rising. Surely among
the cottages dotted here and there
would he one that answered her re-
qurements But Penelope soon discov-
cred that they were all rented. 1t was
q thriving community. and there were
no vacancies Tears welled In Pencil
ope's eyes. and she was forced to stop
and wipe away the Drumming drops.
81 must find something" she said al
most savagely. 81 must! will"
A shady road opened before her.
She had not dreamed that so truly
rural a scene could be within easy dis
lance of the city. Elms grew on either
hand: bird song foated down to her.
drowsy with the heat: wild roses sent
up n sweet briery perfume from the
roadside. Cottages became fewer and
fewer. Finally there were none at all.
1t became very stffl. Now and then a
twig dropped or a tree toad chirred.
The peace Of 1t was balm to Penelope's
tired nerves. She delighted in the flick
ering, leafy shadows. the warm es-
sences Of the earth. She paused to
lean on fence rails and look at bits Of
views framed by swaying branches.
She fingered to gaze at the ruins OF
what had once been fine brick man
sion and which now stood fire charred
and desolate. A little way farther on
Penelope came upon the barn belong
ing to 1t. 1t was large. spacious
structure. Its red paint storm worn
and peeling. its weathercock still twlrl.
ing merrily as If In defiance to sun and
rain.
Il Moved by an impulse she could
scarcely define. Penelope tlptoed up to
1t and looked In It's window. The inte-
rior was clean and airy. A few wisps
of straw showed at the edge of the
NOW: the stalls were dimly hospitable
But 1t was the great width down the
center of the barn that made Penelope
thrill with sudden resolve. II only her
Idea were feasible! She wrenched at
the door. 1t was bolted and did not
yield. She looked in the window again
and then. fired with the rapture of bel
find. went back along the road whence
Il
hardly to touch the earth. By diligent
inquiry among the cottage colony she
learned that the barn belonged to peo-
pie by the name Of Mason. but they
had been abroad for years. and u Mr..
Frederick Carey was in charge Of the
property. Back to the city went Pc
neope. hunted up directory and aft
erward Mr.. Carey. To him she breath
lessly preached her plan. Would he
rent her the barn for the season!
Mr.. Carey's lips twitched. Penelope
was so pretty. so desperately IN ear
nest. Then as her words tumbled over
each other In her eagerness he caught
feetlng glimpse Of her life. grim
with struggle against desperate odds.
He took Off his glasses AMI smoothed
bis iron gray hair. II his own daugh-
ter had lived she would nave been
about the age of Penelope. He cleared
his throat
my dear Miss Compton" said he. IL
have always considered an empty barn
menace to tie public Sooner or lat
er 1t draws tramps or firebugs. So let
there be no talk Of rent 1t will be a
favor-a positive favor to the Mason
estate II you and your family will oc.
cupy 1t during the summer months.
When can you move in?"
"The end of the weekly Saturday
i Il