Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1911-06-09
bssssssssssssssssesssssss'
A Living
Memorial
Long Parted Friends Fortui-
tously Reunited
A MEMORIAL DAY STORY
BY Emma Archer Osborne
J Copyright by American Press Asso-
A MEMORIAL DAY STORY
BY Emma Archer Osborne
sssssssssssssssssss
Copyright by American Press Asso-
citation. 1911.

There's just one thing more l wish
to speak about" said Mrs. Walker, the
matron. addressing the board of lady
managers of the Old Peoples home as
they prepared to leave the stiff look
Ing parlor which they were gracing by
their presence at the monthly meeting,
"and that's Mr.. Prentice"
whats he been doing nowT asked
Mrs. Banks, the president, in voice
implying that the person mentioned
had been heard from before.
''Well," replied the matron, with an
aggrieved look and an injured air, mo
matter what do he persists in driv-
ing nails into the woodwork and the
walls Of his room, and right after our
spring vanishing and papering too"
"Have you suggested to him that
that's rather destructive?' mildly ven
tured quiet little Mrs. Wing
"Why-why," the matron hesitated.
"Have you said anything to him?''
also asked the president.
"Not exactly said anything" re-
piled the matron. 'but I've done
things. When he has been away Wis
iting I've taken out the nails, left him
lot Of molding hooks-oh, well, you
see. he's the kind l can't exactly say
things to-"
81 know; know" nodded the presi-
dent. Hes a nice old man-just like
sweet old lady or dear innocent
child. A good deal over eighty, isn't
he Mrs. Walker?"
"Eighty-six," the matron replied.
"And you couldn't scold him any more
than you could scold week old baby.
But his being sweet and all that
doesn't repair the woodwork and the
walls" she added practically. Some
body ought to forbid his doing it
some member of the board, perhaps"
What does he need. so many nails
for?' asked Mrs. Wing evasively.
ITO hang his treasures on, as he
gals them. though they're nothing
more than so much trash as far as |
can see He still has few old things
stored away in the attic of his friends
house in Jersey, and whenever he goes
over there he lugs back something to
have with him in his room. He al
ready has gone away beyond the allot-
ted number of articles an inmate is
allowed, and when cleaning day comes
well, such a time as we have with
his old rubbish. Lately, he has taken
to hanging things up, and that's why
he is driving so many nails"
Every one Of the ten women present
was gazing pensiyely down at the
cheerless green and oak ingram carpet.
"What manner of rubbish has hep
inquired Mrs. Banks softly.
"In the first place." went on the mar
rator, there's the family portraits
pictures from ceiling to foor, pretty
nearly-and l can't begin to say how
many of that son he lost in the war.
AS far as he knows all Of his people
are dead, but he misses his son the
most-has a sort of insane idea that
he will come back some day 1t affects
his mind at times"
"Poor old soul" breathed Mrs. Wing,
who had buried boy Of her own a
couple Of years before.
"How can he expect the son to re-
turn If he was killed" some one in
terjected.
"Well, he wasn't killed exactly; he
was taken prisoner and reported dead,