The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1917-06-16
EVENING STORY
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BeinE Useful

Being Useful
(By Myrtle Craig.)
stephen was not woman hater,
altho of late he was supposed to have
little use for the fair sex. Perhaps
Eleanor Davidson had something to do
with it.
This idea was not little reinforced
when he gave up his well-furnished
bachelor apartments in town and re-
tired to the solitude of the country,
where the family farm had lain in
useless idleness for many years. He
sent for Viola Fillister, his little niece,
whose mother was dead and whose
father was an officer in the army.
Viola was for company; also salve to
conscience. The little girl, pale and
growing fast, needed the country, he
thought. This was Stephens philos-
ophy of life. 1t was his creed that
every one should be doing something
for somebody else, and that was why,
little by little. he had learned to dis
like society. Its selfishness had palled
upon him. He had told Eleanor so.
This may sound as if Stephen was
misanthropist, but he was not He
liked people, but yet he felt like a
person who has lived for months on
/ diet of caviar and .errapin-he needed
plain beefsteak and potatoes for
change-for his souls sake.
So he took Viola, and Jake and Sal
, ly, the servants, and went to Roseboro.
d
| paint outside and in, sent for a carload
of white furniture, and blue and yell
, low and pink cretonnes. and when the
| place looked like little private cor
ner of heaven be looked out of the
| window at the broad brown wasted
acres and a strong resolve took hold
/ of him. He would make that part OF
| the earth yield as no farm had ever
yielded before. So he bought a dozen
gray flannel shirts. tractor and some
other things and went to work. He
had studied farming.
His blowing and sowing done, he
/ turned his attention to the vegetable
garden. Spring was advancing-and
after all this was the part of the work
/ he liked. He laid cut four acres, plant
! ing beans of every variety, peas early
and late, lettuce, radishes, onions, Gu
| cumberS, tomatoes, corn, everything
self-respecting gardener could wish.
One day Viola, who was watching
him, remarked: why don't you put
in some flowers. Uncle Steve?"
'"They take too much time, dear
Besides they aren't useful like vege-
| tables
you could sell them and get just
as much money for them. couldn't
you?"
Perhaps. But it isn't money
want. little girl. I like to have the
feeling that I'm producing something
that will help the world along. Do
/
all this stuff? I'm going to send it
all to one of the training camps Won't
it be wonderful to think we're help
ing to feed the army?'
t'Oh, yes, Uncle Steve,'' she cried,
fired by his enthusiasm, 'I wish there
/ was something 1 could do. You said
the other day that everybody in the
world should be useful
He was thoughtful a minute, then:
How would you like me to buy you a
pony and little cart. dear-all your
| own, you know? Well have a red
/ cross on the side and when this stuff
grows up you can take the best of the
| things and sell them to the houses
near town every day and get money
to send away. Wouldn't you feel use
| full then? ''
ooh, Uncle Steve. I'd love it. That's
a lot better than wasting time on flow
ers, isn't it?'' bit wistfully.
II think so. dear. You and I shall
! be what they call producers It's what
the world needs"
| Summer came The garden began
to bear and the day came when Viola,
full of Importance, was to make her
first trip. Prince, the ST etland pony
and the little wicker cart were adorn-
ed with Red Cross flags and she
proudly helped Steve to lift in the
baskets of fresh, crisp greens.
Steve looked at her proudly. She
| was SO much healthier and roster than
white collar and cuffs, her blue sailor
hat her golden curls and clear gray
eyes, all made a wonderful picture.
She'll smash some hearts when she
grows up he thought fondly, and
then aloud. Take care, dear, and keep
to the right always. Prince is as safe
as red flannel
He watched a little anxiously when
it came near luncheon time. But it
i was all right. The little cavalcade
triumphantly, with empty baskets and
over Sc in the purse.
"Oh, Uncle Steve, it's just grand,
and they paid me more than I asked
and I'm to go every day. I'll have
$40 or maybe $40 to send this week
Why, 1 feel like a queen!"
It's better than flowers. isn't it,
Viola?''
Yves. I guess it is. But, oh,
Uncle Steve. I was in the most beau
tiful garden today, and there was the
most beautiful lady digging in it She
said she knew you, too I think her
name was Miss Eleanor Davidson"
You were at the Davfdsons', then.'
quickly.
/ Memories came rushing back-the
old city days and the time when he
had felt that he could care for Elean-
or very much.
had told himself, and lest he should
care too much, he had gone away.
Yes, 1 was at the Davidsons', and
wish you could see the flowers
roses and marguerites, and peoples
and peonies, and everything! 1 just
thought 1 could never come away.
And see the arnful she gave mel She's
the incest person L ever knew-and
the prettiest.''
i Yes, Miss Davidson is pretty, dear.
And it's nice of her to show you the
garden and give you the flowers. But
II wonder if she's a useful person.
Viola? Do you think she ever does
anything for anybody? / wonder if
she doesn't work in the garden just
because it's pleasant, something like
doing embroidery, you know"
oh, I'm sure not, Uncle Steve She
Dricked her finger dreadfullX and she