The enterprise-recorder. (Madison, Fla.) 1908-1933, 1908-07-30


would they put her in the asy-
lum," she wondered. IF they caught
herr"
Folks would surely think she was
crazy.
She stopped at the stone wall 70
rest, and looked back timorously &C
the old familiar scene
Far behind her stretched the mead
ows, a symphony Of olive and green
in the late Fall Here and there the
sunken boulder stood sOidiery golden
rod, OF berry bushes clothed now IN
scarlet and gold. At intervals IN the
long slope stood solitary trees, where
futtering, brittle leaves fell In the
.gentle chill air. In Summer time she
remembered well the haymakers rest
ed in the shade. and the jug with
ginger water she made for the men
was kept there TO be cool.
She seemed, as she sat there, to re-
member everything. The house was
all right, she was sure Of that, the
Key was under the kitchen door mat,
the fire was out in the stove, and the
cat locked in the barn.
She held her work-hardened hand
TO her side, painting a little. for Il
was a good bit Of a walk across the
meadow, and she was eighty years old
on her last birthday. The cows feed
ing looked homelike and pleasant.
Goodbye, critters" she said,
aloud; "meny's the time I've druv' ye
home an MIXED ye, an ! allus let ye
eat by the way, nor never hurried Sc
as the boys done"
With a farewell glance she went
on again. smoothing as she walked
the scattered locks Of gray hair fall
ing under the hood, and keeping her
scant black gown out of the reach OF
briars. Across another field, then
through a leafy lane where the wood
was hauled In Winter, then out
through a gap in a stump fence, with
its great branching arms like a petri-
fed octopus, TO the dusty high road.
Not a soul in sight in the coming
twilight, John, the children and the
seolding wife, who made her so I'M
happy, would not be home for an hour
yet for East Mills was a. long drive.
Down the steep hill went the brave
little figure, followed by an odd shad-
ow OF itself In the waning light. and
by the tiny stones that rolled so
swiftly they passed her often aud
made her look behind with start 70
see II a pursuer were coming.
They'd put me in the asylum
sure she muttered, wildly, as she
trudged along. AT the foot Of the hill
she sat down upon an old log and
waited for the train.
Across the road. guarded by a big
Sian, Lockout for the engine" ran
two parallel iron rails. which were to
be her road when the big monster
should come painting around the
curve.
AT last the dun rumble sounded. a
shrill whistle. and she hurried TO the
track, waving her shawl to signal
This, in the conductors vernaeu-
lar was a crossroads station. where
he vas used to watch for people wav-
ing articles frantcally. The train stop
ped. ana the passenger was taken
aboard. He noticed she was a
brisht-eycd old lady. very neat and
precise
"How fury'
Boston"
-Git there in the morning. he said,
kindly. waiting for the money, as
she opened queer little reticule.
where. under her Knitting wrapped IN /
q clean cotton Handkerchief. was her
ruise with her savings Of long years I
1.-The little sums sam had sent her
when no FIRST began 10 prosper in the
West. ana some money she had earn.
"a herself BY knitting and berrypick-
lne.
AT a cross road. as they went
swiftly on. she saw the oid sorrel
horse. the rafting wagon. and John
with his Family. driving honovard
she drew back with little cry. fear.
nr ho m.ghl see her ana stop the
train. but they went ca So fast that
co1ld not be. ana the ol5 horse jos