The Forrest City times., 1914-07-31
CHAPTER iI-Contlnued.

SFlptF h it-SOHiib1Cb.
 Under the pink rose a soft pink flush bloomed on either of the old lady's cheeks. Her eyes flashed with unconquerable pride and her square, firm chin she held very high; for now, indeed. she was filled with terror of what folks would say" to this home leaving, and 1t was a bright June after noon, too clear for an umbrella with which to hide ones face from prying neighbors. too late in the day for a sunshade.
 Angy tucked the green-black affair which served them as both under her arm and swung Abe's figured old car petbag in her hand with the manner of one setting out on pleasant journey. Abe, though resting heavily on his stout. crooked cane, dragged behind him Angy's little horsehair trunk upon a creaking. old, unusually large toy express wagon which he had bought at some forgotten auction long ago.
 The husband and wife passed into the garden between borders of box "OON, bCsoHu Wulth lOddcu llC HCauS of Angys carefully tended, outdoor "children"-her roses, her snowballs, her sweet-smelling syringas her wax like bleeding-hearts and her shrub of bridal-wreath.
 Jest a minute" she murmured. as Abe would have hastened on to the gate. She bent her proud head and x.,fth sion fluffy white spray of the bridal wreath. Now overlapping the hus- bands silk hat, the shrub had not come so high as his knee when they two had planted 1t nearly a half-cen- tury ago
 You're mine," Angy's heart cried out to the shrub and to every growing thing in the garden. You're mine. I planted you, tended you, loved you into growing. You're all the children l ever had, and I'm leaving you" But the old wife did not pluck single flower, for she could never bear to see a blossom wither in her hand, while all she said aloud was: I'm glad twas Mis- Holmes that bought in the house They say she's a great hand ter dig in the garden"
 Angys voice faltered. Abe did not answer. Something had caused swimming before his eyes which he did not wish his wife to see, so he let fall the handle of the express wagon and, bending his slow back, plucked sprig of 'old-man." Though he could not have expressed his senti- ments in words. the garden brought poignant recollections of the hopes and promises which had thrown their rose color about the young days of his marriage His hopes had never blos- somed into fulflment. His promises to the little wife had been choked by the weeds of his own inefficiency. Worse than this. the bursting into bloom of seeds of selfish recklessness in himself was what had turned the garden of their life into an arid waste. And now. in their dry and withered old age. he and Angy were being torn up by the roots. flung as so much rubbish by the roadside.
 Mother be dretful sorry ter take yew away from your posies." muttered Abraham as he arose with his green sprig in his hand
 With shaking fingers, Angy sought a pin hidden beneath her basque "Fa- ther. shall l pin yer 'old-man in yer buttonhole?" she quavered. Then as he stopped for her to arrange the posy. she whispered: "I wouldn't care, 'cept fer what folks must say. Les hurry before any one sees us. told everybody that we want a-gwine ter break up till termorrer mornin'."
 Fortunately, there was a way across lots to the Old Ladies home, an un- freQuented by-path over a field and through a bit of woodland, which would bring the couple almost unob- served to side gate.
 Under ordinary circumstances Ange- line would never have taken this path :; for 1t exposed her carefully patched and newly polished shoes to scratches. her fragile, worn silk skirt and stifr. white petticoat to brambles. More over. the dragging of the loaded little wagon was more difficult here for Abraham. But they both preferred the narrower, rougher way to facing the curious eyes of all Shoreville now. the pitying windows of the village street
 As the couple came to the edge of the woodland. they turned with one accord and looked back for the last glimpse of the home, Blazing gold red against the kitchen window famed the afternoon sunlight.