Hopkinsville Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1889-1918, 1912-12-28

II seem little touchy. perhaps my
trip has something to do with IT,"
"Of course It has. returned the
pleasant voice Of Priscilla West
Good night"
"Of course It hasn't" commented
Miss Baxter to herself, as she went
into the house There isn't place
in the world where you're welcome
for your own sake, and you know it.
With sunset a breeze sprang up
from the south and the air grew
cooler How light the biscuits were
and how sweet the honey Ready.
made friends! From the west win
dow Miss Baxter could see a gray
wall. She wondered what 1t enclosed.
Perhaps she would go to the brow Of
the hill and make sure.
AS she walked down the lane that
entered the churchyard, a little boy
rose from the side of a newly-made
grave, picked up a crutch and stood
looking at her with wide open eyes.
Miss Baxter felt vaguely uneasy.
What are you doing hereY she
asked.
I've been planting sweet briar.
She loved the smell OF them In the
rain. Arc you the lady that's going
70 live In the housed"
I'm going 10 stay a spell. II no one
turns nae out"
"Shs used to tell me stories. Shs
said you would. VIII your
Miss Baxter started. She had never
told story to child In her life Here
Was another of the ready-made friends
Il don't know" she said. Perhaps so.
Come over tomorrow and we'll talk
It over"
Summer passed into autumn, the ari-
tumn brought winter In its train, the
air grew sweet with the promise Of
spring and still Miss Baxter dwelt un-
molested in the house by the cross
roads. OF the mystery of that life
and death so strangely linked with
hens, she understood but little. The
village folks soon learned that she
would neither listen to nor speak OF 1t.
Their testimony that the place had
never looked so we'll, and the money,
steadily growing in the minister's
cs>re, served as balm when her con-
science stirred uneasily.
One eyening in the long twilight,
Miss Baxtnr climbed the hill to the
churchyard t. see If the flowers were
sprouting on tn, grave she had grown
to look upon as hers AS she rose
from handling the moist earth, wo-
man stood leaning en- a neighboring
stone, watching her. Miss Baxter took
a step backward; a stalk of sweet
briar broke and fell to the ground.
Strangers seldom visited Prattville,
and the cemetery was a mile and +,
half from the village The newcomer
wore a bright plaid waist and neat
hat, but her shoes and skirt we're
soiled with mud, and she chung to the
stone as If exhausted.
Are you related to herr" asked
Miss Baxter, pointing to the mound at
her feet.
I'm Fannie" answered the stran ger
with a touch of defiance. came back
to see about the property. don't
suppose she left any for me, and
don't need it, but came back to see
Did she leave any messages for me?"
Eyes, she left messages, and the
house, and friends, ready-made friends.
My name is Frances Baxter; I've
been keeping things for you. When
did you conner"
To-day, on the afternoon train, and
/ walked around by the back road.
No one saw me- When I got to the
you came out of the house
and l followed you here. Did she say
about forgiving me?"
Then it was that a great purpose |
and desire filled Miss Bakers soul |
If she could comfort and care for this |
weary sister, If she could see her |
to the end of her brief earth |
ly journey, then in very truth, she |
could claim as partly hers that life |
that was sleeping JUST over the brow
Of the hill
Suppose you stay with me a spell |
and sort of visit We can say you're
my cousin. and both of US belonging
10 her that's lying yonder makes us
some related, reckon. You'd like It
here. It's pretty, slightly place. and
summers coming on. I'm lonely soul
here and you're lonely soul in the
,ity. We'd kind of be blessing to
each other, and be living more T. 40
way folks was intended to live"
'1've been pining for the old O,.oo
or ten years, but hadn't the <corra 80
o come back. and now, IT'S too Iata
dany's. the time I,ve'got As far as tba
station to take the train. You don.t
NOW what you'pe asking. amt verv
trong nor very cheerful. Some
lines have the horrors. NoSodv
n Prattville would take me in"
Fannie's hat had fallen to the floor
md the lamplfght, streaming over her
vowed head, seemed to gIorify II in a