Middletown transcript., 1908-09-26

sell III u COLulOTGdtIS CIlalF Ill the
farmhouse kitchen. | stopped
for your mail, but they said it
was too late.
Mrs. Headley nodded toward a
letter beside her. She never
talked much when Mrs. Morris
dropped in. She never needed TO.
About David I? questioned her
guest.
From David, was the answer.
Well, responded Mrs. Morris,
DR.. Wilson was saying last night
that it was just wonderful, his
being called to that church. |
hear he went there to preach for
'em when their minister was
going to leave. and some Of the
big bugs made up their minds
they'd have him and nobody else.
Lands! WhenI think of the way
you took that helpless little baby
and brought him up, and you i
widow and no kin at all, and how
you've sold most half of this little
farm to educate him? My! |
hope you'll get a little gratitude
for it, and some reward!
David is my reward, quietly
answered her hostess.
Oh, yes, of course. Then after
pause, ! suppose the salary's
awful big.
It Sc ems so to me; was the
reply.
Well, with a little look of dis.
appointment, | must get along.
suppose you'll go up with DR..
Wilson to hear him preach his
first sermon as pastor?
Then the old face opposite
flushed little.
Oh, no! It's so far and there
will be so many people there, |
suppose; oh, no, I couldn't go.
Mrs. Morris considered a mo
ment. Well, I don't know.
should think you'd want to see
how he looks among all the high
flyers. Of course, it costs lot
to go so far, and with a quick
glance at the little figure before
herr you mightn't feel real easy
among 'em. Well, goodbye.
Anyway, faint as if he was your
own.
Then she was gone and the
sensitive soul was left with the
sting, and the wound, and the
pain.
He wasn't her own! He wasn't
her own! Oh, the sharp, keen
pain it brought her. She "might
not feel easy among EN-" She
knew that, but why did we'll !
meaning Mrs. Morris say ii? She
did not belong to the great world !
out there-David did! She, if !
she went to be present at that
wonderful service, would hardly !
know how to act, unless-and |
she almost held her breath-un-
less she might slip in a rear seat !
where no one would notice her /
at all.
She picked up David's letter
again; she had read every word |
of it four times that day. Itsaid:
You must come. DR.. Wilson will
take care of you in the train, and
then I will take care of you!
Much more there was in the long
letter. It doesn't sound as if he
and the thought sprang out at
last-feels ashamed Of the coun-
try mother. David would do his
duty, anyway, and maybe want
too much. The tears rained over
her face, but presently she lifted
her head and asked herself what
they had been for. Hadn't David
always loved her? Hadn't he
always been kind and good and
attentive 10 her?
But down in her heart she
knew that only David himself in
some way could remove that
haunting fear. He's no call to
be so very grateful, she said in
loving excuse. I'm a selfish, ex-
acting old woman, that's what !
am, shedding tears when Id
much better be thanking the
Lord that my boy s able to preach!
So she rose above the worry,
stilled the voice in her heart that
whispered, He isn't your own,
he isn't like you, wrapped about
her the mantle of unselfishness
that she had always worn, and
wrote David that she guessed
she'd better not come.
But because of the great love
in her heart, and because DR..
Wilson insisted, it came about
that the mistress of the little
farmhouse took the long journey,
and found herself one of many
who were entering church that