Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1915-12-11

And now the white hairs were hurry
ing too. like the snowhakes that sudden
! ~ hll the air But with this snow came
the quickening OF pulse and glistening OF
eyes the reddening of cheeks that the
snow brings.
The white fell about her hair as II she
stood bareheaded in a snowstorm. There
was kind OF benedlction In IT, It
soitencd something about her face, as the
snow softcns old rubbish heaps and
droary yards and bleak patches.
People began to say. "flow well you
look Debhv" They began to dignity her
as Deborah or Miss Larrabce." Her
( oId contcmncrs came TO her counter with
/ a new meekness. Age was making 1T
| harder and harder for them to keep TO
I the pace. Bright colors did not become
/ them any longer. Their petals were fall
| ing from them; the velvet was losing its
| nap, rusting, sagging, wearing through
Ihe years, like moths. were gnawlng
| gnawing.
| One day a sad. heavy figure dragged
along Deborah's aisle and sank upon the
/ mushroom stool In front of her Deb
| orah could hardly believe that Il was
Josie Shillaber. She could hardly force
, odck the shock that leaped 20 her OK
! preston, From the thin white llps,
cruhpled with pain, came voice like
ruStling of dead leaves in a November
| gust, And the voice said with n kind
OF envy In 1t:
Why, Deborah, how we'll you look.'
On am well!' Deborah chanted.
Then repressed her cheer unconsciousIv
~ was not tactful to be too we'll THAT
H. m tol'ahlc. And how are Won this
| awful weather." ''' '''''
not WELL Dolby. I'm not bit we'll;
Nv, ! M never well any moro. why.
I E'ur hair is getting quite white, isn't II
GEAR But It's real becoming to YOU.
awful ~" SUI out II
Indeed It's not IT'S fine, Your chill
uren must love 1t, don't they?"
On the children!" Josie walled "Whnt
uo they think Of me? It's awful. getting
oId' isn't 1t, Debby? 1t don't seem 70
worry YOU, though. suppose lt's he
cnuse You haven't had sorrow I'm your ufe
uS l nave, I'm looking for something TO
,,.i DGohy' The styles aren't what they
~ u', Nhat are people coming to?
can't find a thing to wear What ,So,,Id
you suggest DO help me-
Deporah cmptied the shelves upor tho
'ouE'ef' sent TO the stock room, for row
shipments that had not been lIstod go,
runsacked the place; but there was no,b.
Ins therc for the woman whose husband
owned 1t all. '''''u
DeoOTahs hand went to her heart
where there was an ache or pity for
one who had never pItied her II was
Deporah now that was almost girlsh in
iorin she was only now filling out, talk
ing flesh upon her bones and grace into
her members
few weeks later Deborah went again
10 'he Shlliaber home sat again on the
SON IN the dining room. The children
mad all come home. Josie was in the par
Ior' almost hidden in flowers. She did
not rise to receive her guests They all
i'Ieo ny and looked at her and shook their
heads' She did not answer. even with a
nod
Brdalinc wept over her. looking older
and terrified. but pretty.
Mr.. Crankshaw the undertaken, was
there officially, and 80 were his camp
stools. One of them had collapsed, and
the bass Of the choir had been unable TO
open his. Some OF the young people
EigEled as always at funeral. But even
for them the laughter was but the auto
matte whir OF released spring, and
there was no mIrth in the air.
Time had sung away the rose that had
been Josie. Deborah had heard the rose
cry out In its agony of dissolution and
now 1t was fallen from the bush, scent
less and dead
The store was closed for the day and
Deborah went home. thanking God that
He had not put upon her body the mort
gage of beauty, whose foreclosure was
such ruin.
CONTINUED MONDAY.