The Sauk Centre herald., 1908-05-28
=, ,'l;AkAhll
/ HOME FOR
A NIGHT
BY ALICE ANDERSON
W."
copyright. by Joseph b. Bowles)

lOr the drainage or the city. In the
river the sewage flowed; on the rail-
road, sometimes by train, but oftener
on foot, the human dregs of the city
drifted down, pressed out by the
weight above.
Mike, Biddy and Maggie, all bear
ing the surname of Flanagan, were
on the railroad vaguely bound for
somewhere. Mike carried bundle:
Biddy had a pocket, lucky woman!
Maggie carried herself and what
clothes she wore, which, to put it mod
erately, were not burdensome. Pro-
visions they picked up on the way,
or went without, as was most con-
venient
This is freedom; to be able to
sling all ones personal property on
stick over ones shoulder, and to walk
off on ones own two feet; to be
subject to no conventionalities requir-
ing ones shoes to be mates. and ones
hat to possess a brim; to know not
the necessity of meals at stated hours.
and of a roof to cover ones head at
night. All! the tramp instinct trans
mitted from our nomadic forefathers
still breaks out now and then to show
that civilization has not yet spoiled the
race for freedom.
"Wherell we get somethin' to ate
next, daddy?" asked Maggie.
We'll pick up bite some'er' along.
Don't ye be afther thrubblin' yerself.
me darlint," replied Mike.
Faith, hope and love!
Il wisht had a dhrink," said Mag
gle.
A thicket of young spruce grew be-
side the railroad, and the ground had
moist look.
There's wather in there, bet
ye. I'll go see," said Mike.
Now it chanced that a forgotten
country road meandering dreamily
through the quiet woods, dropped un.
expectedly upon the hot path of the
rushing railway demon, leaped clear
across it, and SHE'D around the bend
of the spruce thicket, where it ran
plump up to the doorstep of an old
house Mikes search for water
brought him through the thicket, and
into a tangle Of briers, growing up
through the ruins of what had once
been a cider mill. The stone walls of
the flume were still standing, with
ferns clinging into their crevices, and
a bit of brook trickled down over a
messy ledge, worn smooth by the flow
of the river which once had been
there.
Mike assured himself at a glance
that the house was uninhabited.
Come on, Biddy; come on, Maggie.
There's wather. And there's blackber.
ries!" he cried, and said no more, be-
ing too full for utterance.
Biddy and Maggie plunged through
the thicket and settled upon the black.
berry hedge. There was silence for
a space, the silence of absorption.
Then Maggie's growing sense of the
felicity of the situation expressed it.
self with a sigh, drawn from the very
depths of her being, and smile which
was unimpaired by the blackberry
stains about her lips.
Let us stay here tonight. Then
nobody'll put us in a tramp house"
she said.
"Roight We are, me baby" replied
Biddy. The door Of the house hung
ajar on one hinge. Maggie peeped in
curiously. A bird fluttered suddenly
from a nest over the window-casing,
and few out at broken pane. There
were young ones in the nest.
"Oh, N.Y. squealed Maggie
'Shure, it's foine house." exclaim-
ed Biddy taking in the scene with
charmed eyes.
ooh, nanny, don't We wish we
lived here?" said Maggie.
"Mebbe we'd best rint the place, an
take in dodgers" said Biddy, good-na.
turedly.
"Will ye plaze to look over the
house an see il ye thinks it'll suit ye,
ladies?" said Mike, opening one OF
the inside doors with a flourish.
Through all the musty, dusty old
ruins they looked, up into the cobweb-
by attic, into the queer little closets
around the big chimneys, and down
into the cellars, smelling of darkness
and mold and rotting timbers. Every
where they found treasures-two or
three rickety, splint-bottomed chairs;
a table on three legs; half dozen old
spinning-wheels and reels, clustering
together in an oak-paneled room, as
if rehearsing tales of days gone by;
a heavy wooden cradle, worn on the
tops of the rockers, where the moth.
er's foot had pressed; a broken accor.
dion with cracked and suueaky
voice; and hidden away in a dark cor.
ner under the caves, a dusty moth-eat.
en- rag doll, which Maggie seized with
a rapturous scream.
"Oh, nanny, niver had doll in
all me loife," she cried.
"Bless the choild!" exclaimed Biddy,
grinning broadly.
Mike brought the table and chairs
down into the bright west room.
"Will We set the table for tay, Mrs.
Flanagan, whilst just step out to
the market over beyant?" he said.
Where be yez afther goin'? Ye'd
betther kape an eye out ahead" warn.
ed Biddy.
"Niver ye fret. Mike Flannagan's