Evening star., 1913-11-18
THE EVENING STORY.
The Narrow Road.
wright. 1919. BY W. werner.l

Mary shannon sat on the doorstep
watching the highway that lay, white
In the summer dust. half mile opposite
across the valley. Intervening charming
" were bright flats on either side of a
shallow, shadowy river. Beyond the high
way rose hills still and dark green, to-
ward a sky as blue as Mary's eyes 1t
was an expanse of beauty and the girl on
the doorstep felt it as such even though
she had been seeing it all her life long.
But the highway interested her more.
For there on this afternoon. as on others,
flashed the shining cars Of the towns
fortunate. filled with comfortable men
and sayly vciled and bonneted women.
Mary knew very well that the broad
highway was for the moncyed and Ia
yorcd ones. The narrow road was for
her 1t was so narrow a road and so
lonely, \ hundred feet farther down the
slope upon which her house stood it went
shamefacedly. like scorned thing, steal
Ing between rank weeds and bushes
which gathered the dust from an intre-
uucnt wagon For sometimes, a wagon
did take this way 10 town. but no auto
mobile ever had lcft the trail of its big.
padded wheels there.
The fact that the road was So seldom
travelled made the situation of Mary
house very lonely. 1t was ~ tiny house.
gray as the abandoned hornets nest
that cIung under the caves and as bat
tered by wind and weather. Before 1T
was a bit of ward where hoilyhocks.
sweet peas. petunias and pansies grew
In u tangle. \ few ruinous stone steps
led from ii down the bank TO the road
Mary had lived there all her twenty
years For six years she had lived un
mothered Tier father worked with
team in the big woods back on the noun
tain hauling lumber. There was danger
there but at least not monotony. Mary
thought that her father had the better
of it. Yet she never complained to nim.
Tie had it hard enough. She kept her
miseries silent and in other ways tried
to make him comfortable. 1t was all she
knew how to do. Yet. she had her long
ings, her dreams. She yearned for some
thing different than she had. However.
if ever she had tried TO put her feelings
into words she could scarcely have made
them comprehensive. She only knew that
she attained to the impossible in some
shape or other, and that she was not like
other girls.
tied. She had got a little schooling and
added to it by reading the books that her
mother had brought to the little gray
house. Her mother had been a rare
woman. When she ran away with Moss
Shannon her life ended as it WERE But
she had tried to pass something on to
the daughter who was like her. And
Mary had accepted the training. At
twenty her whole philosophy of life re-
solved itself into this one thinS-better
to live in the gray house forever than to
do what her mother did. And vet Mary
knew nothing of men for her father did
not bring his mates to the house, save
what her eyes showed her.
Now as she sat on the doorstep and
watched ihc highway she wondered
much. The day and the called
her. She was young; she wanted some
one to talk to; she wanted love and
tenderness. Since her mothers death
she had not known a caresS. She want
ed companionship. but whether that of
man or woman she Scould not tell. She
had read all her books until she knew
them by heart
Suddenly her hands, restless for em-
ployment, moved and grasped the ends
of the two endless heavy blond braids
that lay in her lap and began to undo
them. She was dimly conscious that her
hair was unusual. Even in pictures she
seldom saw so much hair on woman.