Heppner gazette. [volume] (Heppner, Morrow County, Or.) 1892-1912, 1910-07-21

| and brought several old candlestick.
from the parlor. The attic was a greai
ow room extending over the whole
of the house. 1t was upholstered. Box
es and barrels abounded. Bunches OF
herbs, long dried. and garden tools
hung here and there; in corner an
old saddle was suspended by one stic-
rup Pieces of furniture covered with
cloths were distributed under the
caves, their draperies heavy with dust
and the light of the candles gave them
spectral appearance.
There were several trunks of her
mothers clothing and Zelda peered in
to these bravely. Her mother had ar
ranged them thus shortly before her
death. The girl was touched by their
nice order; they were folded many
times in tissue paper and were sweet
with lavender. One fiat packet had
been crowded into the top, and the lid
had crushed it, so that the paper
wrapping had fallen aside. 1t held a
small address book. bound in red leath
er; and Zelda ran the leaves through
her fingers. noting the names of per-
Margaret Dameron" was written on
one of the fly leaves. The book had
been intended as a register of visits,
begun at the threshold of her married
life; but, from appearances, it had
been abandoned soon as an address
book At the back, where the ink was
fresher and of a different kind. some
of the pages were filled. The girl car
ried the book close to the shrouded
table where her candles stood and
opened it.
This is to you, Julia or Rodney,
They have told me to-day that l am
a long time The end is nearer than
they think it Isl and l am going to set
down here an appeal that l can not
bring myself to make to either of you
directly 1t is about Zelda / think
she will be like US. God grant it may
be so. I know what l hope her future
may be; but l dare not plan it. My
own-you know that l planned my
own. Save her as you tried
10 save me from myself if it should
be necessary. She is very dear and
gentle; but she has our pride. l can
see it growing day by day. They say
hat we Merriams are hard and proud:
out she will never be hard. Do for
Ter what you would have done for me.
Do not let him kill the sweetness and
yentleness in her. Keep her away
rom him if you can; but do not let
Ter know what I have suffered from
lin. l have arranged for him to care
10 ha.
10 that she may never feel that / did
lot trust him. He will surely guard
What belongs to her safely
Perhaps l was unjust to him; 1t may
rave been my fault; but If she can re-
Ipect or love him / wish 1t to be So"
Zelda read on. There were only a
ew pages of this appeal, but the
words sank into her consciousness
With the weight of lead. She was TO
De saved from her father, If need be,
~ her aunt and uncle but she must
lot know what this dead woman, her
mother, had suffered at his hands
There was the heart ache of years In
he lines; they had not been written to
Ter, but fate had brought them under
Ter eyes. She closed the book, clasp
ng it in her hands, and stared into the
lark area beyond the candlelight Her
mind was busily reconstructing the life
If her mother, of whom she knew so
little. The book that she held, with
is pitiful plea for her own security
md happiness. opened new world 10
Ter; her mothers words brought the.
past before her vividly and sent her
thoughts into the future with a fierce
haste of transition.
This was her home coming and this
was home! She forgot for the moment
hat she had friends anywhere; she
'elt herself a stranger in her native
eity, in the house where she was born.
Her heart went out to her mother,
across a distance that was vaster than
any gulf of time, for there was added
The greater void that sympathy and
owe would have filled if mother and
child might have touched hands to-
lay.
Her fingers came upon the broken
wrapper that had fallen from the lit
lie book. She lifted it to the light and
read:
i.Private. For brother Rodney or
sister Julia"