Grand Forks daily herald and the evening times., 1914-07-24
The Evening Story y
Til DOVE r CHEST.
Copyright. 1914, by w werner.>.

er came the shock Of a blast that set
the very earth to. qUaking and echoed
for moments after. 1t was his death
signal.
So there vas no occasion to wear
the wedding dress after all. She had
packed it away with the other things
she had made and taken up a new
way in life. Her parents had died
and she had come away from the
farm to this little house on one Of
Westernmore's back streets, which
was the nearest to h country n
could get. She lived alone with her
sewing and the many ghosts of her
dreams and the memories which her
dover chest contained.
She cried softly as one by one with
heavy fingers she lifted out pieces OF
table n bed linen; undergarments
exquisitely embroidered in intricate
designs of leaf, flower and butterfly.
and, lastly, the beautiful dress Of
clear ivory with time. Now she
went to an old chest in which she
kept some treasures Of her youth ard
brought out a rich purple satin dress,
trimmed with some beautiful old lace,
How strange the room looked with
all these things lying upon the chairs,
the tables, the couch. Nancy stood
looking at them wistfully. 1t came to
her that they were symbolic of her
own spoiled, wasted life. Poor, pitt
full things called into being, yet never
of them after she had passed on?
This thought of her going and leav-
ing what she had to leave behind her
was not a new one to Nancy, but it
seemed to hold a strangely unusual
vitality Of meaning for her this norm
ing. Out there was the freshening
spring, her rose bush struggling tow
ard leaf, all that suggested youth, or
at least renewal, and here was she,
of her W hands. Yet the linens,
the satin gown would last long after
her body had dissolved back into the
elements Of dust.
How could she bear to have these
precious mementos of her one bright
year Of happiness go into uncar1ng
hands? For the hands of the very
distant cousin to whom, according to
right of kinship, they must descend
the linen and bleach it and use it un-
til it dropped to pieces on the wash
board. And the dress she would prob
ably cut up into squares for a satin
quilt or else use as a covering for sofa
pillows. Nancy shuddered and her
lips trembled. Suppose she should die
suddenly! She was ffty-hve; her own
mother had been nc older when she
written request that the dover chest
be burned unopened. But requests Of
the dead are so often looked upon as
mere vagaries Of the spirit hesitatlng
to depart. There Was one way in
which she could rest assured Of their
safety. She could burn them herself:
What better time to dispose OF. them
than this morning of all mornings =?
She could make a little fire in the back
them till the last shred was ash.
Heartbreaking business this. but. not
nearly so heartbreaking as to picture
them grown to dissolution on Ellen
McCurdy's washboard.
Nancy was quickly resolved. She
got some papers. and kindling and
! matches and went out and made her
fire. Sure of her altar she went to
bring forth the sacrifice. But when
ming themselves aha taking the air
like so many doves hsr heart nearly
failed her. HeresYfwas d fresh agony
for her. She went from article to. ar
tiole. Not the tablecloth, no, nor the
monogranmed sheets. nor the towels
yet. Certainly not the petticoat, too
full now. or the nightgown, with its
dear, dear butterflies. Some little
trifing piece. But which? All, this
would do. h snatched up a pillow
slip. heavy with crocheted lace and
fairly ran from the room with it.
AS she stepped over the threshold
of her back door intent upon her err
rand Nancy saw, with a start. that
somebody was standing beside the fire
looking wonderingly upon it a slen-
der, very young girl, whose thin,