Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1914-11-12
Evening Story
FORGOTTEN.
BY Edna Heron.
Copyright, 1913, by the Mcclure News
paper Syndicate.

NO more COTuNllle lOI luS Ihc ivy
life and freedom and Her voice
faltered the least bit but 1t was enough
to take advantage of, Arthur Balm said
quickly.
"And what else? Failure. You are
not fitted to make your living In the
city. You have good home and
friends and all you know is to enter
tain and be your own sweet self among
them. What else? Regret, Elsie Man
ming, for leaving all this and placing
yourself where you ought not to be.
"Never!" Elsie tossed her head de-
family. mo failure, no regret for me.
ri succeed and I'll thank my stars IN
future years that broke away from
little burg and lived my own life. AT
thur regarded her with real concern
in his honest eyes, Was this gentle
little Elsie--his Elsie?
DO YOU remember the promise you
made me-have you forgotten that al
ternoon on the hillside-our hillslde?'
Elsie broke in quickly, startled by a
husky note in his voice that she mad
never heard before.
"I remember, of course, Arthur, but
want to forget mean to forget-all
the hillsides and valleys too, and the
old weather-beaten church and the
postoffice and"
"And me, Elsie?"
81 want to remember you always as
a friend she began bravely.
"No!" She didn't know Arthur could
speak like that or look like that!
She trembled little, but her deter.
mination did not waver. She stood
looking up into his blue eyes winch
lust now had look of steel.
"No," Arthur repeated, my life is
here. Your place is here, but since
YOU choose to forget the promise you
made me and all the things that make
up life to me, then forget me, too.
Goodbye"
"Why, Arthur, you'll come to say
Goodbye"
Goodbye he repeated, land good
luck to YOU" and this new Arthur walk
ed swiftly down the path without turn
ing his head. 49,
It had never been such a beautiiui
morning Elsie thought as she contln-
ued her packing after Arthurs depar-
ture. The sun streamed through the
windows and lit up her bright hair and
warmed her sunny features. 1t was
early spring and the sweet odor OF
peach and cherry blossoms was waited
to her on the breeze. She smiled 1or
pure happiness.
What did she say she wanted? Life
and freedom? Life, yes but freedom
was hers now in a measure. Ihere
was none to say her nay She and her
mother had lived in their own little
home until her mother died. The little
house was still hers. It was to be shut
up lust as it was while the daughter
went to the city to win fortune.
Friends she had in plenty, and Arthur
she knew was fond and true But as
part of the life she was leaving she
must forget him. He himself had said
so.
Forget Arthur! How strange the
spoken words sounded to her ears.
Why. she had known Arthur always
But friends came in to chatter and
disturb her thoughts. Packing was
endless, So many little things had
been forgotten, so many things to 40,
goodbys to be said. advice to listen to,
that all thought of Arthur was driven
from her mind.
Evening came. Her chums had all
The last little task was completed, and
the two little trunks were strapped and
ready for the morrow. At Z IN the
morning Old Jake Morse would bundle
them to the depot Her little house
would be locked up, she would take a
last look at Cornville, climb aboard the
train and all her dreams would come
true.
Somehow, sitting alone in the little
parlor in the somber twilight, these
thoughts did not cheer The joyful
anticipation did not come. A vague
dread took it's place. After awhile she
wandered restlessly out to the kitchen,
and from force of habit stood looking
up the village street. No familiar fig
ure swung down the path. 1t was his
hour, but he was not to come. She was
to forget him and be herself forgotten.
Oh-be forgotten. She hadn't thought
of that A queer little catch in her
throat came for moment. Be forgot
ten, Yes, surely, if she wished to for
get Cornville and all that belonged to
It she must wish herself to be forgot
ten, Of course! And then there was
the wonderful city to take its place.
But everything was done. If she
could only find something left to DO. 1t
was foolish to wander around the old
familiar rooms in the gathering dark
ness. It was o'clock-late for coun-
try callers She found herself once
more in the kitchen gazing yearningly
up the street.
Then she went back in the parlor,
lit the lamp and opened wide the front
door Soon a bevy of girls focked in
Gust for a minute" Elsie was gay
with the rest: her cheeks burned and
her eyes shone but there was strain
ed note in her voice, and her laughter
seemed near tears
Finally the last of the girls had gone,
leaving fond kisses on Elsie's lips and
few honest tears ON her flushed
cheeks. She closed the door. The
neighbor woman who stayed with her
nights had gone to bed and Elsie sat
once more in the little parlor all alone.
After while she went up to her lit
tie room for her last sleep in the little
white bed that she had always known.
The hours we're like centuries. Until
morning dawned she lay with her eyes