The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1914-04-02
HERE IS A VERY
PRETTY STORY
By Honore WilIsae
Continued From Page One)

But the front door had slammed on Mary
Jane and her charge.
The Webster house was mile from the
village. The only house on the way was
the deserted Williams place. 1t was a
night of scudding clouds overhead and
heavy snow under-foot. Mary Jane walked
firmly out of the gate to the road, pushing
the carriage carefully. The baby stertori-
Gus breathing deadened the creaking of the
wheels in the snow. Mary Jane began tell
ing herself that if the fear panic should
make her faint, Baby Rose would die in
the cold. She would not faint! MOI Not
If all the Things that made the darkness
| foul were to grab her skirts and harry her
heels!
Us her eyes accommodated themselves to
the intermittent starlight, she could see the
| snake fence bounding the road before her.
| Uncouth, huddled forms crouched in every
fence corner, leered at her, reached for her
with rafting fingers as she painted by.
Baby Roses breathing was so loud that
were the Things to come up the road be-
hind her, she could not hear in time
In front of the Williams house was a
drift through which the carriage plowed
slowly, oh so slowly! Mary Jane began to
talk.
| The Agony of Fear
''I'm here, baby! Mary James here, and
not b-b-bit afraid of the Things that live
at Williams. No, I'm not! Oh, little
Rose, don't breathe so hard! | can't hear
Them if They come! If should die be-
| fore l wake, l pray the Lord, my soul to
take! I'm here, baby. Mary Jane loves
you. She isn't bit afraid. She'll take
care of you. Oh, don't breathe so hard
it hurts me to hear you'll
The wind howIed maliciously around the
bleake old house. There was a coffin
shaped shadow at the pump. A gibbetted
| Thing tapped from the clothes-line. But
somehow the drift was passed, and Mary
Jane broke into a run. The sweat ran
down her face, and she wiped it off with one
mittened hand. The road beyond the
| Williams place wound through stretch of
| wood. The darkness here was so deep that
Mary Jane had difficulty in guiding the
carriage. She pushed violently into some
thing, and screamed with the startle of it,,
then sobbed when she realized that it was
only tree. When she emerged into the
starlight, Baby Rose had choking spell
and Mary Jane stopped to ease the little
thing by lifting her. The baby was in a
stupor and made no response to Mary Jane S
endearments.
''She's dying!' said Mary Jane aloud.
Then she lifted her mittened fists to the
Stars. ooh God!'' she called. eff you
let Baby Rose die, I'll never pray to you
again for anything! Do you hear?'
She felt a strange, wrathful strength after
her blasphemy, and started on at a run. A
long stretch of pasture land, and then came
the cemetery. Mary Jane closed her eyes,
but opened them at once as she could not
steer the carriage. CHASTITY shapes wills
pered and gibbered among the graves.
Goblin forms slipped through the shrubbery.
"Mary James here, baby" sobbed Mary
Jane. f'She-she-she' not afraid! God,
there isn't any such Person as You! If
there was, you wouldn't let baby like
little Rose suffer so. If should die before
l wake, l pray the Lord my soul to
take!''
Then words failed her. Thought failed
her. Mary Jane had reached the acme of
terror now. She was Fear, itself, without
thought or reason. She embodied all the
fear instincts of the race, touching terror
with thousand sensations, sensing it with
out knowing it. Again she closed her eyes
and ran, screaming as she did. At once
she careened into drift and the carriage
toppled over. Mary Jane stood still.
GIVE killed her, she said aloud, slowly.
'My afraidness has made me kill my little
sister,
She righted the carriage and lifted the
little, unprotesting form that still was wrap
ped in its blankets and still, as Mary Jane
turned it over, breathed with labored sobs.
In the sudden relief, Mary Jane forgot
everything save that Baby Rose was still
alive. Exhausted, trembling, crying, she
started on. Beyond the graveyard the road
turned, abruptly, and afar Mary Jane saw
the lights of the village. Somehow she
pushed the carriage through the drifts of
the hollow, somehow she reached the village
street and the doctors house.
At the Doctors
When the doctor opened the door, Mary
Jane showed the carriage in without ceremo-
ny. "Baby Rose!' she painted.
The doctor lifted the baby, put his ear
to her chest and shook his head. 81 m
afraid it's too late" he muttered, ''but
we'll put up fight
In the moments that followed, while the
doctor inserted the silver tube, Mary Jane sat
rigidly on her hands, her long legs twined
in the chair rungs, waiting. Within the
safe haven of the doctors house, the full
meaning of Baby Roses peril swept into
her brain and heart. If Baby Rose died!
Never to hear the piping voice, never to
feel the clinging hands, 1t was too terrible!
Such thing could not be. Nothing in the
world mattered save that Baby Rose was
dying. How lonely for such little thing
to die! Did nothing matter to God, any
how?
For the first time Mary Jane was facing
Real Fear. For the first time life's univer-
sal tragedy was turning her soul to lead.
The first of life's bitter realities was tearing
its way to her sensitive spirit. Mary Jane
sat silent, the noble head little defiant, the
sturdy shoulders little dropping, little
patient, as if her woman heart forsaw the
many, many years of learning ahead:
Suddenly Baby Roses sobbing breaths
stopped caught stopped, then began
again, slowly but deeply, more easily.
The doctor turned to Mary Jane.
''She' II do! You got her here just in
time. It's not nine o'clock. Are you