The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1917-12-21
h0MESlCK
BY H,LpA MORRIS.


the city to be substitute teacher In
the township high school. She had
been there only a month, but already
the country air had begun to work
wonders with her pale cheeks and hol-
low eyes.
If only 1t weren't so lonesome"
she thought, as she walked country
road one bright, windy Saturday at
ternoon. But just then she heard
some one calling.
Hi therel" a mans voice shouted.
'Hi there, Miss Grayl"
1t was Richard Harding, greeting
her in the local fashion. Christine
stood and waited as he came striding
toward her, fine, strapping young
man, clad In farmers overalls and a
flannel shirt.
"Are you taking a walk?' he asked
as he caught up with her. His voice
had the easy modulations Of an edu-
Gated man. He was graduate Of an
eastern college.
Eyes, I'm going through your ceme-
terry. It's SO quaint! I'm only used
to crowded city cemeteries that reach
for blocks and blocks. Tell me, are all
the people In this town related"
Richard laughed. Every nearly. The
Bullits are related to the Emmets and
the Emmetts to the Hardings and the
Hardings to the Bullits again. We're
all kin somehow"
'All but me-" said the girl, laugh
ing a little wistfully. ut must seem
| <, finnc0
Richard did not appear to have
heard her remark. He was looking
ahead at the big square red brick
farmhouse where he lived with his
mother and sister. His mother, SUM-
bonnet on her head, was cutting tul-
lips from the rows, that bordered the
garden walk. She Strengthened up as
they approached, and came to the gate.
"Howdyi" she said cordially. TITS
right cool for an April day, isn't 1T?
Have you been walking, Miss Gray?
Well, do come in and have cup OF
tea. I made some cinnamon cakes this
morning that must be eaten"
Christine hesitated.
ut isn't five o'clock yet" said Mrs.
Harding, royalty sweeping aside the
girls unspoken objections. Richard
was holding the gate open, so almost
before she knew it Christine found her
self in the big square sitting-room OF
the Harding homestead.
She had not been In a private home
Of this size for years and years, not
! since her childhood days and before
I. long arid years Of furnished rooms
Q The house gave her rather an awesOmt
9 impression of vastness and elegance
1t had been solidly built for posterity
> by a forebear from New England. tt
+ furniture was mid-Victorian.
"Have you always lived In the city?'
Miss Lottie Harding asked In her timit
q voice. Miss Lottie was an "old maid
= who spent her years in making endless
yards of tatting.
"Since was two" said Christine.
"Are your parents living?" pursued
Q Miss Lottie, to whom family was onei
) most interesting attribute.
t mo-" answered Christine.
This put a somber period on tn
= conversation, broken only when Mrs
Q Harding brought in the tea.
y In spite of herself the girl present..
p began to feel the homelike warmth
!. Of the place. When she left, steppin
n out into the damp spring dusk, |
L seemed as though the chill wind struc
IL her with redoubled force. She shi,
cred, and hurried back to her ding
E. room in the village hotel.
IS The next day Christine met Richar
IT Harding on the corner by the post O.
n fee.
'e "Can't you take a driver" he Gale
eagerly my teams just over vol
der"
7 The girl perked her pretty head 6
though considering.
10 "Why. perhaps" she conceded, ''ft
a little while"
Presently they were riding off dow
a winding road bordered with do
at wood and the picturesque iowerir
20 Judas tree.
IN 'Im going home next week." 81
le announced, as calmly as though ht
heart were not beating furiously.
hit "Home" he queried.
IL. "Back to the city. where 1t isn't
I'll lonesome. / only came to substitu
lOT MOHlll, anyway, anu III Ia
In used to the country. It's too qui
"a for me-"
an II suppose 1t Is" Richard assente
We letting the reins drop loosely. II su
H. pose you couldn't stand 1t here. b
We I've something to ask you, Christir
IN. II / should be willing to come to {
ed city and live your way-give up tt
tie quiet country life-would you mar
hit me, Christine?"
yn Leave here" cried the girl jncred
It'll lous. "Why, Richard, II like y
uff best here. You belong here. Oh, Rie
~ ard" she breathed. II was so hon
ng sick was going to leave because
by could not stand 1t to see homes a
ng fireplaces and mothers all about mi
"Well," he answered joyously, ~
needn't ever be homesick again. Y
e have me, all right"