Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1914-03-30
THE EVENING STORY.
A COLD MORNING.
Copyright. 1914. by W. Werner,

Copyright. 1914. by W. WernerD
Minerva Marsh had been restless with
cold all night. Toward morning she
| fell into deep slumber. from which she
was aroused by the I o'clock whistles
| blowing. The sounds told Minerva that
a cold wave had arrived. But O'Clock
was her rising time in winter, and,
snatching up her clothes, she hurried
into the next room. where there was a
stove, to dress. The room was like ar
icebox For the fire had gone out.
In the icy atmosphere Minerva went
about. reconstructing the fire. But II
was a long time before she was aware
that her fingers were anything more
than so many icicles.
She lived alone in her tiny old house,
which was all the property she owned.
She sewed for a few people and 30 paid
her taxes and bought food and fuel OF
the scantiest proportions. 1t was not her
fault that she had been born proud or
that one by one her relatives had died
and her friends Withdrawn until she was
n,acticallv alone in the world. OF char
itv there was abundance, but she would
not accept charity
After a while the fire got to burning,
frozen. She had no hot water. but she
lit the lamp and set two fiatirons to neat
;nr and went to work. 1t was an hour
before the first drip OF water issued lro"i
the faucet. She had accomplished her
task without bursting the pipe or calling
in a plumber. ,,,
Now" said Minerva, aloud. = III JUST
brew me a pot of tea and get right at
my sewing. There's Just little bit more
I must do to Mrs, Sands black serge
before she comes after it at noon.
For a week she had been looking Tor
ward to finishing the black serge and
getting her pay for it. Mrs. Sands was
a good customer. who always Palo
promptly. And Minerva greatly needed
money. The coal was all but out, the
kerosene can empty, and tax drawing
near The 81 which she would receive
from Mrs Sands would go far toward
setting her at ease until she earned more
money.
She had just sat down with her cup OF
stearning hot tea, her numb feet on the
stove hearth. and her ShaWi-Wrappea
body beginning to feel the inspiration or
warmth when there came knock at the
door. The frosty bolt stung Minerva $
fingers, and the door chung and squeaked
with cold before she got it open and saw
the face of the smallest Sands girl 81,
why, good morning susy,' SAID
morning. isn't it?'
II don't feel cold" said the child. and
I can't come in, cause it's most school
time. Ma sent me to tell you that she
can't come after her dress today. and
you needn't hurry to finish it, like she
said, cause she's got one of her attacks,
and it'll be a week prob'ly before she's
up and around again"
That's too bad" Minerva nurmured.
She drew her old shawl close. feeling less
the cold than the chill of disappointment.
I'm sorry she's sick" she added. She
went back to her tea and her glowing
stove. She sat down again and took up
her cup with fingers that trembled a
little.
ITS very cold morning." she said
to herself, DULY.
Her morning tea, usually so cheering a
beverage was as fiat and Intellectual as
mere hot water Her toast stuck in her
throat. She realized that there was a
lump there which would not admit her
swallowing. She sat looking about the
room. 1t was such a poor bare room.
and in the midst of it stood her darling,
her scarlet geranium, dead. Somehow as
she looked at the blackened plant 1t
came to her that the last bit OF bright
ness had passed out of her life forever.
Clarissa Penn had given her the plant