The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1917-12-28
Worth
Winning
u
By George Elmer Cobb
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was liberal, too, and he made haste
to tender the fullest service.
There was no hotel at Bassford, but
there were half dozen grain eleva-
tors which drew the farming commu-
nifty for miles arond. This meant es-
tablished trade for the one general
store which was a customer worth
having for the jovlal travelling man.
Beardsley had to stay overnight at
Bassford always. for the trains were
infrequent. At his first visit he asked
the storekeeper if there was any pros
pect of making an arrangement for
meals and room anywhere in the vii
lage.
"Why, yes" readily answered the
merchant. Mrs. Isle has done some.
thing in that line for transients. She's
II widow, and thrifty, and Industrious,
and needs all she earns. Fine woman,
sir but had a scallawag of husband
who drank himself to death. leaving
her house and lot and little child
of five. That's her place." and the
speaker pointed out an old-fashioned
house block distant. Tell her l sent
you, for she is shy with strangers"
Neither the blooming, kindly faced
widow nor the pretty, lively little Ruth
were long shy with Beardsley, how
ever. He hustled in upon them, frank
and hearty. He paid what was charged
when he left avowing that the laven-
der scented bed awarded him had in
duced the soundest sleep he had en-
joyed for years. and the scrapple and
pancake dainties would leave lasting
longing for more. Something seemed
to pass out of the lives of the mother
and child when he came to bid them
adieu. He waved kisses to the respon-
sive little one until he was out of sight,
with his great echoing voice promis-
ing her the prettiest city doll he could
find, on his next visit.
Beardsley and the doll arrived on
second day at the neat homelke domi-
ellie of the widow, Beardsley was more
ELUSIVE than ever III his enthusiastic
appreciation of the comfort and atten-
ton awarded.
After that, not only Mrs. Lisle and
Ruth, but he himself looked forward
to these monthly meetings as an event
in their lives-he always the genial,
pleased visitor, friendly, but respect
full, the widow CHEEKY, eager to pre-
pare for him her best cooking, and lit
tie Ruth delighted while he was in the
house and in tears when he went away.
One wlntry night belated train car
ried an unusual and unfamiliar John
Beardsley through the drafts and
snowdrifts, for the smile was absent
and the kindly eyes dulled with gloom.
Beardsley had just left town where
former fellow travelling man had set
tied down. A memory of the CHEEKY
home, the loving wife. the comfort an
chored husband made him reflect that
he was missing the best gifts of life.
He was lone sheep, indeed, he mourn
ed, wanderer a species of domestic
outcast. However, once beside the
cheerful fireplace of the Lisle home his
ordinary good nature revived.
He awoke the next morning at the
sound of vigorous knocking on his
bedroom door
"Oh, Mr.. Beardsleyl" called out
Ruth's voice, mamma says you've
hardly got time to get up to eat break
fast and catch your train"
s'No wonderl' retorted Beardsley.
"After those hotel beds this one is a
luxury. I'll be right down, little one"
He hurried his breakfast. for he had
limited leeway of time his watch told
him. He ran up to his room, lit a
cigar and began piling his traps into
the satchel. He placed the lighted
cigar on the window sill and forgot all
about it, leaving it there and rushing
down the stairs and Mrs. Isle called
up:
'Mr. Beardsley, you have barely four
minutes. and | hear the train already
whistling at the crossing. Ruth insists
on seeing you off"
"Good for little Ruthie !" cried
Beardsley. "Here am and they left
the house in company, and he had just
time to pile into the rear car of the
train as it pulled out of the depot.
He stood on its platform, swinging
his hat, while Ruth threw him kisses,
and Mrs. LisIe waved him a friendly
good-by.
The dull season came on. and it
was three months before Beardsley
again visited Bassford. During the in
term he had sent little Ruth gifts from
time to time, and when he was ready
to start on the road again he wrote
the Bassford merchant, telling him
when he would call on him.
1t was dark when Beardsley reached
Bassford. A little figure was there to
greet him, Ruth, and her mother was
with her.
swell, 1 declared It's heart warm
ing to have true friends waiting to well
come you" cried Beardsley, and he
not only grasped, but held the prof
fered hand of Mrs. Isle.
Mr.. Morton, the storekeeper, told
us when you would arrive" exclaimed
the widow diffidently "and as we have