The Washington herald., 1913-03-30

deserted mother and her little baby
| don't look starved, do /. Pshawi Ii
woman without a cent to her name.
and ten pounds in her arms can make
good. what about a big strong boy
like you with mother to smile every
time he hits the mark. And you'd bet
ter believe we got more than a living
out of life. Mother taught me geogra-
ply and history and the Revolutionary
War-you know history'S one thing
and the Revolutionary War is another
and every lesson she gave me was
soaked with love till it was nearly as
sweet as her own brave eyes. Maybe
! wouldn't have liked it. if I'd had to
study on hard bench in stuffy
room with the world shut out, and a
lid put on my voicc-but anything S
good that's got a mother in it And
tell these gentlemen you're sorry for
punching that boy
"Sorr,,' muttered Jakey shamefac-
edly.
Il am glad to-hear it" Abbott ex-
claimed heartily. you can take your
cap to 60, Jakey.'
'Lemme stay Jakey pleaded, not
budging an inch.
Fran lifted her face above the
tousled head to look at Abbott she
sucked in her cheeks and made a tri-
umphant oval of her mouth. Then she
seemed to forget the Young man 5
presence.
But when mother died. real trouble
began. 1t was always hard work. while
she lived, but hard work isn't trouble.
la, no. troubles just an empty heart !.
Well, sir, when | read about how good
Mr. Hamilton Gregory is. and how
much he gives away--to folks he never
sces-here | came But don't seem
to belong to anybody, Jakey, I'm out
side of everything. People wouldn't
care If ! blew away with the dead
leaves. and maybe will, some fine
morning-maybe they'll go up TO my
room and call. Fran, Fran and
there'll be no Fran. Oh. oh. how
happy they'll be then But YOU have a
home and mother, Jakey, and place
in the world. so | say Hurrah" be-
cause you belong to somebody. and.
best of all. you're not a girl, but a
boy to strike out straight from the
shoulder"
Jakcy was dissolved tears burst
their confines.
One may shout oneself hoarse at
the delivery of speech which, if
served upon printed page. would never
prompt the reader TO cast his hat TO
the ceiling. No more print under bold
headlines did Abbott read, but rather
the changing lights and shadows in
great black eyes. 1t was marvellous
how Fran could project past expert
cnces upon the screen OF the listeners
perception. AT her, When mother
died." Abbott saw the girl weeping
beside the death-bcd. When she sigh
cd, Il don't belong TO anybody" the
school director felt like crying, Then
belong to me- But ii was when she
spoke of blowing away with the dead
so pathetic and SO full
of clhsh witchery-that the impression
was deepest 1t almost seemed posi-
BILE that she might fade and fade to
dow. and be lost-Clinton had an odd
impulse to hold her. lest she vanish.
Fran now completed her work. She
rose from the immovable Jakey and
came over to Abbott Ashton, with
meekly folded hands.
He found the magic of the moon
lighthour returning. She had mel
-glowed-softened ned-womanized-
Abbott could not find the word for it
She quivered with an exquisiteness not
to be defined-a something in hair, or
flesh, or glory of eye. or -softness of
lips, altogether lacking in his physical
being. but eagerly desired.
Prof. Ashton" she spoke seriously.
Il have been horrid. might have
known that school is merely a place
where Young people crawl into books
to worm themselves from lid to lid,
swallowing all that comes in the way.
But I'd never been to school, and |
imagined it a place where a child was
helped to develop itself thought
teachers were trying to show the pu-
pills the best way to be what they were
going to be. I've been disappointed.
but that's not Your fault; you are just
a system. If boy is to be a black
smith after he's grown, and if girl
in the same class is to be a music
teacher, or a miliner, both must learn
about abe and def. So I'm going
away for good, because. of course,
couldn't afford to waste my time in
this house. | know the names of the
bones and the distances of the planets
are awfully nice. but I'm more in
terested in Fran"
But, Fran Abbott exclaimed i'm