The Chickasha daily express. (Chickasha, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1899-current, 1907-01-14


dull, I fear, at times He seizes the
others hand. shakes it--and tears
himself away"
Again a brief pause: you may
think that / am becoming prosy, as
well as sentimental in my old age,
Reggie, " Kitty remarked. But, some
times, one likes to think quietly Of the
past. 1t helps one to be honest,
and"
"Tolerant?"
4 was going to say-humble," CON
fessed her ladyship. We'll, my Man
reaches home, and let's himself in with
his key. In small, neat front room
sits small, neat woman; with the
dearest, truest face In the world, She
is knitting quietly; and turns her head
with some quick, bright word Of well
come on her lips. One sees
Kitty held up little hand, as If to
shield herself from the blaze Of our
fire. One Sees she added, gently,
that the small neat woman-is
blind"
Why do you talk Of it Kit?g asked
!, softly. 1T hurts you; and there is
no need. One should reread only the
pleasant pages in Life's book"
1T helps me to be honest, persist
ed Kitty, slowly. There are moments
when one SO nearly forgets
My Man asks abruptly for his son;
and learns that he has not yet come
In. This house is almost an hotel,
says the father, grufly and little
unfairly. A shabby one-but it serves
for him to sleep in, and eat In. He
draws his chair to the fire and sits
there moodily; whilst his wife, putting
away her knitting, noiselessly busies
herself getting the supper The door
opens, and the mother smiles as she
hears her daughter enter Such a
queer little girl, Reggie, with a pig
tail Of mouse-colored hair! Shg glances
shrewdly towards her father, and notes
the tired, pinehed features; the scars
Of the many wounds that Time has
dealt upon gallant, if rather impa-
tent fighter. She crosses ia him, and
coming behind his chair
Il can see you, Kit" I interrupted.
And pig-tail and ALL / don't find 1t
strange that | should SO dearly love
YOU
Hush! / ought not to remember
these things, aloud But you, Reggie,
are somehow different from all the
folk meet. Please don't mistake my
meaning. / get into a way Of speak
ing very intimately with you, | am
afraid"
You make me very proud, kit
Proper pride. let me believe, an
nounced Kitty, deciding for us both.
but now-supper is ready and we all
sit down! Well, halfway through sup
per- there sounds a knock at the door.
The son presently comes into the
room. He takes the mother back to
her chair-she had gone to the door
to meet him-and he stoops to kiss
that dearest face. Sorry to be late,
Dad says he, wee bit nervously.
But got kept at the Office. An old
chum Of the guvnor's turned up, just
as was leaving. He waits to see
II the frowns win reappear, ere tell
ing US the rest Of a marvellous tale.
The clouds have lifted, in
deed The boy had stayed late to
good purpose. He had been summoned
to the guv'nor room SO soon as the
old chum' had left 1t. Had been Of
fered grand post a tremendous lift
up. But-abroad"
Kitty turned toward me. "You Gym
les win say that that's the way Of
things, she declared roundly, as if on
her defense. Its not truel Perhaps,
sometimes the good is hidden away
like the kernel in a nut-and we have
to crack hard shell to get it out.
Its there, Reggie, though
You will have guessed that my faith
ers 'schoolmate' and Mr.. Tyson's old
chum' we're one and the same? He
had gone straight to Tysons, and
whilst my brother was fidgeting at his
desk, the two men had been discuss
ing matters. weighty enough for us
all, in the end She smiled whim-
sically, at another thought, which must
have arisen then.
MY father grew younger and young
er as weaall talked Of Philips future;
SO assured. 50 dazzling in its many
possibilities. It was good of old
Frazer; it was splendid Of him. cried
my father, in his best and biggest
voice. He wanted to help me, i could
see 1t. And ] resented It, too, sir!
BY Jove, he has stolen a march on me.
/ never should have credited any man
With having such Rne instincts. Our
friends. mother, eh? Tonight, as
was coming along, | was nearly for
getting-oh, host Of things
but. save us, woman. what's there to
cry about? Aren't you glad, mother
mine? For our boys sake-isn't it
crying for Joy yon are?"
Kitty faltered On those last words:
and hid her face from me. But / knew
the rest of the story-how Philip had
gone valiantly forth; how blind eyes
had wept uneomplainingly and un-
selfishly. What blessed women theirs
are IN This worlal / da mt Ana 4 -