The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1909-07-22
TIE EVENING STORY
Two songs.
(By CIarissa AIackie.)


The feather in Maria Woods best
bonnet nodded rakishIy in the fresh
south breeze, and her good-natured
face was creased into lines of pleas
ant excitement She took her seat in
the buggy beside her tall, grim-look-
ing nephew and watched him covertly
from the corner of her eye.
When the rapping hoofbeats of the
black mare had died out on the hard
macadam road, and they had entered
the deep sand of the wood, Maria
spoke.
HAD dreadful nice meeting today.
Anson," she ventured; eve packed a
barrel for some of them poor mission
aries in Africa
Him. grunted Arson disagreeably.
''The cold weather will be coming
on by the time they get that barrel"
pursued Maria Wood complacently.
II put in some of your winter I'M
derwear, Anson-they're shrunk SOS
you can never get into them again.
expect some poor missionary
Arson Woods morose countenance
broadened with an unexpected grin. II
expect some poor missionary IL cuss
you Busy Bee women when he I'M
packs that barrel, Aunt Maria. A man
don't need flannels in the torrid zone"
The Weather's SO changeable nova
days you can't tell what it'H be from
day to day expect that missionary.
Will bless the Busy Bees when he
opens the barrel They're cody men,
Anson Wood. and they don't swear
you've been down on missionaries ever
since" she hesitated.
fiercely.
Ever since Arthur Smith turned
missionary and went to India" Maria
aStOniShaA
in bringing up a tabooed subject
Anson's jaws snapped together as he
flxed his cold gray eyes upon her. His
bronzed face was pale and his lips
were white beneath the dark line of
mustache.
BUSY Bees been humming again,
suppose" he said in a strangled tone.
Maria shifted haughtily.s rive can't
If the Reverend Arthur Smith has
come home to marry Celia Long; his
mother wrote to him that Celia was
Just languishin' away. for love, and
how she plays and sings the same old
songs every day just at o'clock
harki''
AS they emerged from the wood
road the tinkling notes of an old piano
came down the Hill toward them. From
low white house, perched on a green
slope, sweet voiced floated down.
Celia Long was not singing THE
Last Rose of Summer" as she had
voice was lifted in triumphant strain
"A church hymn. Anson's lips moved
slightly.
tains. That's very proper for mis-
sionary's Wife," murmured Maria
Wood, approvingly. They're going
to be married next Tuesday and they're
going right back to India-he only had
They passed the house before Maria
spoke again. "Delia II be left all
alone then-there amt no likelihood
of her dying for any man.
When they reached home and Arson
helped his aunt from the carriage she
turned an inquisitive look upon him.
ST don't suppose you'll go to the we'd
ding Arson % she asked.
81 shall have to go to New York
about that time he said, grimly;
there's some machinery 1 want for
the farm
Maria gasped. New York! You've
only been there once in your lifel"
long week later Arson Wood left
the train and turned into the high
road that led toward home. The sta
ton stage rumbled past and left a
cloud of clinging white dust. The late
afternoon sun threw long red-gold
shafts across the road, and he seemed
to walk ladder of fire until he en-
tered the cool shade of the woods
Once there, his steps dragged wear
lily and his slow moving thoughts COW
cred bitter pasta past where he
saw himself, young and handsome and
loving and beloved by Celia Long; his
jealousy Of Arthur smith and his wild
outburst when he learned that Celia
had promised to marry the young mis-
sionary. Arthur Smith had gone away
to India and pretty, pale, Celia had
stayed behind, waiting for the sum-
mons to join her lover.
The years had fled and Celia had
grown delicately faded while She wait
ed.
Her sister had waited here and
there, placidly content in her single es-
tate-caring for no man and attractive
to none.
Arson had tried to stamp out his
passion for pretty Celia, but now-to-
day-llis heart was as bitter as it had
been twelve years ago.
He came out of the wood with set
white face, and when he reached the
little white house he paused before the
gate. Celia was gone-sile was mar
ireland Della was left. He would
go in and talk to Della Long-perhaps
thev would talk about Celia.
When the green suffered door open
ed, in response to his knock, Arson
Wood entered and then turned toward
the white-faced woman who had adj
mitted him.
It was Celia Long.
st came to see Della" said Arson, |
after awhile.
'sWhy-you know Della has gone |
married and gone away"
said Celia in a low voice.
Arson leaned heavily against the /
wall. ST thought it was you-you that |
was married.
give never thought of getting mar I
always been engaged to
Arthur Smith-they're very happy"
Celia's slender figure was trembling /
with emotion.
IT asked you-you didn't deny that
you was engaged to him-I've heard
you singing that song every day"
Arson paused and choked.
81 was angry that day. Anson-you
don't realize how you spoke to me
and about the song, sung it for Della
she wanted me to. and she can't sing
hut rTa al FaT ]