The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1907-09-30
THE EVENING Story
PeneIope's Problem.

4
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.
Penelope?''
None, so far, dear" said Penelope
cneerfully, but one never knows what
may turn up
For at least a month Penelope had
Deen hunting place in the country
that should shelter her widowed
mother, her sister and herself, and be
within the compass of her slender
purse With. two invalids boarding
was out of the question, and a summer
cottage, no matter how small. had 50
Iar been beyond the means of Pene-
lope, the bread winner of the family,
Trail, but determined girl, the idol
of the crowded city school room IN
wnich she taught. Day after day since
sehool closed, she had answered ad-
Vertisements, only to be disappointed.
And 1t was imperative that the two in
FaHoS should have country air. Rutn
grew paler week by week, and Mrs.
Compton-but Penelope never dared
10 think of that, for she needed all the
courage at her command. On this
particular afternoon, the pathetic pa
tlence OF Ruth's question nerved Pene-
lope to further effort. Something must
be found! 1t was matter of life and
death!
the window, Penelope caught up her
hat that lay on chair nearby, and be-
gan to pin it on with swift, nervous
gestures.
Ruth, the quickening of hope in her
voice.
81 am going to take street car
any car, and go out to the end of the
till find what I want" said Penelope
vehemently. do you feel strong
enough, dear. to be left alone with
moth er?"
ening as she always did at the ex-
pectation that the ElDorado might yet
be reached.
Penelope stumbled blindIy upon the
first car that came. Beneath her
brave exterior, she was weary and
sick at heart But the keen rush or
the air past her as the car left the
crowded streets and took a down
ward grade in a more sparsely popu-
lated district, was tonic and refresh
ing. She began to feel less tired, less
hopeless. The car whizzed on, through
suburbs with trim, fenced-in houses,
and green fields that stretched 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 be one that answered her re-
But Penelope soon dis
covered that they were all rented. 1t
was thriving community and there
were no vacancies. Tears welled in
Penelope's eyes, and she was forced
to stop and wipe away the trimming
drops. 81 must find something" she
said almost savagely, 81 must! 1 wilI!'
A shady road opened before her.
She had not dreamed that SO truly
rural a scene 'could be within easy
distance of the city. Films grew on
either hand a bird song foated down
roses sent up sweet briary perfume
from the roadside. Cottages became
fewer and fewer. Finally there were
none at all. 1t became very still. Now
toad chirred. The peace of 1t was
balm to Penelope's tired nerves. She
delighted in the pickering, leafy shad-
ows, the warm essences of the earth.
She paused to lean on fence rails and
look at bits of views framed by sway
Ing branches. She fingered to gaze at
the ruins of what had once been a
fine brick mansion, and which now
stood f1recharred and desolate. A lit
tie way further on, Penelope, came
upon the barn belonging to it. 1t was
a large, spacious structure, its red
paint storm-worn and peeling, it's
weathercock still twirling merrily, as
II in defiance to sun and rain.
moved by an Impulse Sne could
scarcely define, Penelope tiptoed up
70 it and looked in it's windows. The
Interior was clean and airy. A few
wisps of straw showed at the edge of
The NOV; the stalls were dimly hos
oitable. But it was the great width
made Penelope thrill with sudden re-
solve. If only her idea were feasible!
She wrenched at the door. It was
oolted and did not yield. She looked
n the window again, and then, fired |
with the rapture of her find. went
back along the road whence she had
irst come, her feet seeming hardly to
ouch the earth. By diligent inquiry
among the cottage colony she learned
hat the barn belonged to people by
he name of Mason, but they had
been abroad for years, and Mr.. |
Frederick Carey was in charge of the |
property. Back to the city went Pen
.lope, hunted up a directory, and af- |
oreathlessly preached her plan. |
Would he rent her the barn for the |
season?
Mr.. Carey's lips twitched. Penelope |
est! Then. as her words tumbled over |
Zach other in her eagerness, he caught |
| fieeting glimpse of her life, grim |
With struggle against desperate odds /
Ie took off his glasses, and smoothed |
lis iron gray hair. If his own daughter |
lad lived she would have been about ]
he age of Penelope. He cleared his |
hroat.
my dear Miss Compton," said he,
L have always considered an empty
BARN a menace to the public. Sooner |
,r later 1t draws tramps or f1rebugs. So |
ct there be no talk of rent. 1t will |
,e a favor-a positive favor to the |
Mason estate, IL you and your family
will occupy it during the summer
months. When can you move in %
THE end of the weekly Satur-
lay said Penelope, joyfully.
"Goodl I shouldn't wonder IL my
wife and I were out that same after
loon to look things over before my
ummer vacation. And by the way, I
wonder if you'd do us the kindness to
tore a Boston bulldog for US during
he summer months? He has healthy