The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1916-03-02
THE DAILY
SHORT STORY
The Port Of Shelter.
BY IzoLA FORESTER.
Copyright, 1916, by Mcclure Newspa-
per Syndicate.)

per 0yuQLCdIe.l- @(~n
Names Myrtis," Miss Cader said.
glancing over her spectacles at Ben.
"Kinder fancy, amt it, for a girl in
her position"
What 90 you call her position,
"Well, sort Of dependent. She's
Just getting over the fever and 'lt'li
take quite a spell for her to get her
strength back SO she a do any work.
Eastern understands that. She won't
be a mite Of good to me for weeks.
Still it's only March. Maybe by the
end Of June she'll be all right. ] want
her to help with the summer boarders.
She's been assistant librarian, but
that's too confning for her now and
anyway they won't take her back. I
guess she won't be in the way"
Ben laughed, lounging in the door
way with the Gordon setter posing at
his hand.
"You'd tuck any one under your
| wing, wouldn'teyou, Aunt Polly, If he
needed it? Old Brookside Farm Is a
regular Port Of Shelter in time of
trouble"
meet Aunt Polly's- latest wait OF
chance. Loving and motherly by ma
ture, with no child of her own to pet
and tend, she always semed to be
giving out help to some one.
Her sister Esther had written to her
about Myrtisj hampton. She had been
brought UP in one of the church homes
at Wakefield, the orphaned daughter
of a schoolmate of Esther's.
When she was eighteen, Esther had
found her position at the town II.
brary and had kept an eye on her as
she said, until the girl had come down
in the winter with typhoid fever.
"And I do feel 1t was my fault let
ting her board in one of those. cheap
houses near the river fats" wrote
Esther to Brookside. II could have
taken her in here with us just:a we'll
as not, but you know how fussy4 kn-
drew is, so I let her go. But Just as
soon as she's able to be, about l want
to send her out to the farm to You,
Polly. She needs loving and chirking
! upS that's ALL"
Ben agreed heartily when he saw
the lone figure get off the Providence
train and come toward him. White
faced she was, with big blue eyes, and
he knew by the way she got into the
carriage she was still weak and
shaky.
Through the long summer days she
lay out under the NAPLES lin}ithe ham:
mock getting stronger slowly. Miss
Calder would alt near in one ofithe
rustic rockers, reading or sewing, sing
ing softly to herself, and ready with
a smile when.Myrtis wakened.I
"I'm SO useless. Aunt Polly" she
said one day. "I'm no more good to
you than a weed"
Some weeds have turned out heal
ing herbs, dearie," answered Aunt Pol.
" happily. S"Just you rest and sleep
and stop worrying"
Late IN the afternoon on Sunday,
Ben would go into the parlor alone
and playion his violin. Maybe he was
totally unconscious of the figure out
in the hammock, butttf he was he sure
ly made good hit-or.miss guesses what
to play. Not new songs, but old,
| sweet ones that gripped the heart
with memories. Myrtis could remem-
her how her mother had sung some
Of them, "Atleen Aroon" "ThetLow
Backed Car" robin Adair," .Loch
Lomond." and ALLAN Water" a
Fl Just dread to think of going
away she said to Miss Calder one
day in early August. The latterilook-
ed at her over the tops of her glasses.
well. I shouldn't, it'll was you, ,Myr--
tis,"" sh~eiresponded pleasantly. Why
don't you take the school examina-
tion over here at the crossroads and.
teach there. It's twelve a week, and