The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1916-06-09
CHAPTER II-continued.

CHAPTER tI--C0nelnueo.
The door swung wide. Behind Sam
Thomas Mary Alice saw pleasant
room, and through the open doorway
waited the ''homey, smell that always
denotes the farmhouse. In her over
powering WEAKNESS and pain, the little
girl yearned to that hearth, her big
eyes wide with longing.
We'll" said Sam Thomas, you
don't think I'm goin' to turn the poor
young one away, do you? What's your
name, child? And for goodness sake,
what's the matter with your forehead?
Looks like someone had hit ye."
Sam Thomas stepped out upon the
big fiat rock that formed his back door
step just as the sun licked its first
broad rays, like the tongue Of a cat,
over the saucer rim of the world. A
wistful mooing came to him from the
barn. The furry-green weeds that
matted the side yard were all dain-
-tily rimed with heavy white dew in
which Sans footprints would appear,
dark and distinct, as if in snow.
With humping of feet and beat
ing OF wings, half q hundred chickens
came hurrying and jostling to his feet.
"Gwan," said Sam. "Shoo! Mall
iced ye. Shoov'
He stumped of to the barn, a milk
pail rafting cheerfuiIy in each hand.
Some swallows issued, swooping, from
the tiny holes pierced high up in the
peak of the barn gable. They swung,
.circled and dipped, uttering small
cheeping notes of morning gossip.
Sam Thomas whistled q thin, tune
less measure, swung open the little
door In the big door of the barn, and
pushed his pals ahead Of him into that
fragrant gloom.
Mrs. Thomas, in the farmhouse kitch-
en-, washed her breakfast dishes with
the deft handling OF inbred eff
cheney. An oil lamp burned on the
shelf above the sink, for Mrs. Thomas
had arisen before daylight to make hot
biscuit Now, as the slant rays of the
sun crept in and turned the lamp flame
to sickly yellow, she blew it out. An
other day had begun.
The everlasting, ever-renewing bust
ness OF cleaning w0At on with scarcely
any interruption. Martha was always
cleaning something; she scrubbed,
secured, rubbed, FURNISHED and pol
Sshed by intuition. by inclination and
by habit And she did not find it
drudgery. She was plump, pink and
pleasant. In her manner lay deci-
sion, a firmness, which in a less per-
sonable woman one might have called
by harsher name. All the time, just
as her husband whistled his tuneless
measure while he did his chores, Mar
tina hummed soft half-portion of
song, song which kept repeating
itself endlessly without words or de-
ENABLE notes.
From somewhere within the house
came a call
"Mum-mee-ee-eew The last note,
long sustained, high pitched, was as
honeyed as birds call. Mum
mee-eer'
Martha stopped in the midst of her
tasks. Every morning the same thing
happened; every morning came the
little clutch at her heart, the little, ten
der, recurrent pain of realization. She
answered as always: "All right, sweet
heart; mothers coming"
She set her broom in the corner and
passed swiftly through the sitting room
into chamber. The morning sun
tflled the chamber with golden ra-
dance, and this radiance was reflected
and seemed to be enhanced when il
touched the shining yellow head Of a
child nestled in the pillows.
The sun come and walked me up
mummee," said the child. rs It time
to get up?"
III you want to, dearie. How'd
mothers boy sleep!'
100, grand. don't rummember any
thin but just one little teeny dream
Gee, 1t was a funny little dream"
Tell mother" said Martha. She
busted herself with basin and cloths
and towels. AS she bathed him, the
child went on:
well, can't just rummember every
thin; only, the was little girl in it
but she wasn't my sister Gee, mum
NEE. wish'd had sister"
Martha stopped short In her opera
tions. Land sakes!p she said. II for
got.
"Forgot what?r demanded the littl'
boy sharply.
~Nothing. dear said his mother
aud IL s;iss that SHE was tremulous