The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1911-05-27
EVELYN Var BureH1 .....,..,.. ,,u

chunks of wood FOR children; how do I know
what dare burn up?
Valera turned swiftly back to the wooden
chunk buried in the leaves.
"Don't ever burn this one, Grandmother
DEAR" she raised it for close inspection, see
what lovely baby it makes. It's heavy
enough to be real, and these little knobs on
each side are like arms and the holes are eyes
and this little knot is mouth-oh, it'salove-
ly face. Ireally have feeling here -" she
placed an eager hand upon the pink-yoked
little chest, strange feeling about this
block-of-wood baby. If it got burnt up"
No adequate words were forthcoming,
only little throaty gasps.
And Grandmother Pollard could not
speak either. There were things she did
not understand. She watched the child
bury the block of wood lovingly in the
leaves and vanish.
cts that Something, she murmured I'M
certainly, "that's like her mother and no
body understands" The old lady gath
cred slowly an armful of the wood. at
seems to last so long lately" she com
planned, "and he won't come till it's near
gone. 1 We been thinking of the boy all day"
With her gray head thoughtfully bent
she entered the house.
After knocking three times at Betsy
Smiths door without getting an answer,
the Pollard twins lifted the latch gently,
and, Valera first, slipped into the kitchen.
Betsy was not at the carpet loom and the
evenings milking was done, for there were
the bright tins of it in row waiting to be
put away.
Then, Betsy Smiths querulous voice was
raised in the next room. And high-pitched
above hers, the rich young Mrs. Spencer's.
The door between the rooms was ajar. The
twins stood, waiting; thay always waited
when Betsy was too busy to give them the
milk and she was, they knew, weaving some
heavenly-colored rag rugs for Mrs. Spen-
Ger.
&c. Through our apple orchard into
his mothers yard and cuts and piles that
wood up for her Mrs. Spencer's words
caught Valora's attention" regularly once
every month. Why should he sneak -"
Betsy Smith interrupted; her words were
always hurried and indistinct because of
false teeth.
ellis wife's running away turned his
head2" Mrs. Spencer laughed at what old
Betsy had said. "He was warned of her
before he married her; what did he expect
of poor, little, cheap, wandering thing;
of a"
"Of what?" Valera had not caught
it. She held up finger to Narcissa.
"Renegade" came from Mrs. Spencer.
Whatever it was, they were calling her
mother that, too. Betsy Smith began
speaking. Valera strained to hear.
"Well I s'pose if old Mis- Pollard can
stand it-takin' care of his twins-and keep
their mothers picture on the wall turned
face out, we can; it's year now too, since
she went off an there her picture hangs
same's if she was respectable dead. Poor
old Mis- Pollard! Not that she wants for
anything. He's always been dootiful son
that way"
"But his sneaking-"
A piercing shrek rent the air. Valora's
outraged senses, her overstrained nerves,
had given way. She drew back and hurting
her little milk pail at the door of the adj
joining room, cried out:
cts big lie! My papa don't sneak.
He don't SSH
She turned and burst from the kitchen,
hands outstretched gropingly before her.
Silent, stunned to speechlessness, Narcissa
followed back across the street and into
the house to Grandmother Pollard. Her
arms, her dear, soft, .tightly-buttoned
breast, was an ever-ready haven for the
storm-tossed Valera, and there now, with
out questioning, was she held tight, tight,
until the words could come.
Over her sob-shaken tow-head, the
grandmother's old eyes looked out at Mar
cissa Narcissa, who looked back with the
soft, blue-eyed gaze of her father. Like
him, she bore her sufferings silently, Sc
cretly; only in her eyes dwelt dull, ques-
tioning wonder at the things that hurt.
And while Grandmother Pollard's heart
yearned for this child, her arms comforted
the other-the passionate, not-to-be-under-
stood Valera
why" Narcissa began, "we didn't get
the milk"
This was not the point, but the delicate
pink in Grandmother Pollard's cheek had
faded and she looked suddenly, angrily
expectant.
whats Betsy Smith been saying?''
She pushed Valera round and looked into
her face.
"That my papa's sn-sneak and my
mammals picture ort to be turned to the
wall?' Valora's eyes deepened. from their
grayness to brown; she was wringing her
hands.
1T wasn't meant for US to hear, dear
Grandmother" Narcissa's embarrassment