The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1911-10-19
GOING BACK.

thickest and the wind blew every
day, where sage-brush and buffalo
grass flourished. they lived. The
Church at home had sent them out
there as home missionaries, and they
| had never gone back. 1t was three
years now and If sometimes the long
ing to see old scenes and old faces
grew too strong within them, they
resolutely pushed it back. To them
religion was nc light thing, and they
had not hesitated.
And so they had braved the biting
winds and the long winters, and the
sitting summers, borne the inconven-
fences of small salary never
promptly paid, and gave no sign. But
one day as they read the papers from
home, she saw in one of them an
announcement of great meeting
that was to be held there. She read
it, and her eyes grew dreamy. She
saw it all-the dear church, the old
and cherished friends-home! And
what a meeting it would be! o, she
wanted to go-go!
Donald" she cried, couldn't you
attend it, dear? Think what it would
mean to get into touch again! Think
Of the fine addresses, and the music,
and the new IDEAS
He shook his head. 1--WE haven't
any money, Edith; and besides,
there's-you."
"Me? o. couldn't go. l know we
couldn't spare money for two. Be-
sides, I'm not presentable. I haven't
had a hat for three years, and my
skirts are out of date; but if we saw
ed and scrimped and managed, could
you not go?"
He kissed her fondly. ST could
not go and leave you here alone. No,
don't say another word; I would not
think of such thing"
Stephen Hartley, tall and white
haired, halted the minister that
morning. II heard you give out the
announcement of the convention" he
said. cit strikes me, it's to be an un-
usually fine meeting"
eve hope So" was the quick reply.
There was a pause. Stephen Hart
ly broke it. "By the way, I wanted
to speak to you about Donald Street
and his wife. They went out as
home missionaries about three years
ago, wasn't. it,"
The minister nodded. Eyes, they
are over in the Cedaredge district,
little pocket completely shut off from
the rest of the world. But they are
doing great work. for there are
people there"
There was another pause. Stephen
Hartly broke it again. ST suppose
they are having it hard enough?" he
said laconically.
The minister laid his hand on the
other mans shoulder. Hard! MY
dear brother, is the life of a home
missionary ever anything else? No;
1t leaves its mark, its stamp of bur-
dens borne and sarried, it's weari-
ness and deprivations. But after
ward, oh. love to think of the home
MISSIONARY crown.
There was another silence. Then
stephen. Hartly spoke. "I would like
to have them attend this convention
as my guests" he said slowly. "I re-,
call her now as she went out, scarce
ly more than girl herself. I believe
neither of them has ever been back"
mo, the salary is small, and the
distance considerable"
II see. but IL I give my check for
their expenses to and from this con-
vention, will you get it to them?"
The minister grasped his hand.
"As If wouldn't" he said in a moved
voice.
When the letter came and the crisu
slip of paper fiuttered to the floor.
the home missionary and his wife
stared. They forgot the plain little
room. and the wind-swept plains, and
the cactus. and the alkali patches.
Going Blackjack once more into
the old life, with its privileges, its
charm. its old tried friends, Going
back to be near really fine music
again, and culture, and-then some
how she was crying on his shoulderi
my hat is three years old, and
haven't pair of gloves to my name.
but O. Donald. who. caresi Just think
of 1t. going back. going back, going
back!'+