The Brandon news. (Brandon, Miss.) 1892-1961, 1907-10-24

comm On the same track! Switch
her offcan't you switch her ont
Something snapped under her fing-
ers: the switch refused to work. The
down train met the one with telesco-
ping effect. She found herself groan-
Ing in conjunction: with the other
switchn1an. Together they supplied
the anguished clamor appropriate to
a head-on collision. Then the child
wriggled over the floor to her post
and anxiously examined the tiny
switch.
Its broke Here there was real
anguish. You've broke it-o11, gee.
gee!"
Esther Wakefield, single and be-
ginning to grow old, sat there in the
litter Of childish playthings with the
odd conviction that almost every one
has at some time in his life,s that it
had all happened before-that she
had sat on the floor like that and
tended" tiny switch, and that
there had been child there with
her. She was conscious of humor-
Gus longing to remember how the
child had looked at that other time
but surely he had not been shabby!
And that other little child had surely
matched"
! We'll, why don't you say you're
sorry? If had broke tt the
| complaining little voice broke off alb
ruptly. The old nurse stood in the
doorway, and Terry stared at her and
at the dainty woman on the floor
speculatively. One of them was his
mother probably, and it couldn't we'll
be the one in the door. Terry turned
to the dainty one:
Are. you his mother? Were Won.
you, mean, when he was liver
She WINGED in spite of herself. The
question touched hidden tender.
places.
mo. But if / had ever been, L
should always be. Mothers stay
mothers always"
This was beyond Terry. His was
not a reasoning mind, and he had
never, anyway, had experience with
mothers that last always. Moreover,
all his mind energies now were bent
upon the tragedy of the broken
switch. It was tragedy to Terry. 1t
entailed an awful obligation. The
forbidding face of the Lonesome Man
doomed mountainously before him.
I'LL have to own up!" he nut
tured
Esther caught the words. mo,
oh, no, for you did not break it," she
hastened. It's who must confess"
You're woman person." flashed
back the boy, leaping from the leth-
argy of dread to knightly courage.
Its men that do hard things. You
needn't worry-I'll tend to it,
The sound here of heavy steps
down stairs sent the boy limping past
the astOnished Jean to his difficult
task. The two women gazed at each
other and listened. jeans good, dull
face was blank, but the face of the
other woman was calmer-for it had
all happened before. Even this last
that other child she had played
with on the floor in the other dim
time had gone stumping away like
this, to confess.
"Hark! Don't make a sound,
Jean. Isn't he a plucky little chap!
Didn't he go stumping away! Jean,
he's lame. Who is he, Jean?"
But petrified Jean was glued to 81
lence. From below drifted upward a
hurried, agitated little voice:
It's broke-it won't work any
more. I broke it,
Il clumb in the winder an played
with it, but only meant to look in.
The winder was open. When the
winder's open an there's things in
there you've wanted to play with al
ways-oh, gee, such things!"
The little voice failed -trailed out
helplessly, as if buried under the
things that had been in there.
John Crowell's voice doomed out
It was not loud. but had the effect of
being SO.
go on. What else?''
Would the small, sharp voice go
on? What else was there? The
woman above who was listening held
her breath. Odd how interested she
had become! In her gentle, rather
colorless life something of note
seemed to be happening. To Jean,
the old nurse, the wonder was all at
hearing child's voice again in the
silent house.
Why, I told you / clumb in, didn't
I? Then-then played. Oh, gee, /
played like everything halter. oh,
guess you'd have to if you looked
in the winder! Everything was in
there-everything!" He had forgot
ten the throne and the golden little
crown. Then she came, an there
was goin' to be a smash-up, an it
won't go any more. s'pose they'll
lock me up, but I had beautiful
time playin' I never had beautiful
time playin' before, an I'm glad
the little voice rose to a ringing
pitch-"I'm glad clumb it! Only
it's broke"
And the beautiful time playing
was "hr0ka -. tn tho 1ictoninu xry<xro