The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1917-05-23
EVENING STORY
His Beloved Wife.

There isn't thing you or anyoooy
else could possibly say against Mel sat
terlee. He's steady going and thirty
He's got that big farm on his hands
and money in the bank, and l don't
see what more than that you want
Mary Ellen, or what you expect. Land
alive, when 1 was a girl we nave
thought half that was catch
! Mary Ellen smiled, little wlstIul
SMILE close Tipped, unsatisfactory, al
! together aggravating to any one VINO
| tried to influence her one way or tne
other. Her mother said you might
just as we'll strike up a conversation
with a telegraph pole as to Mary Ellen
| when her mind was set the other way
And she don't get that from my
side of the family, either" she would
add, triumphantly. That's all ray
| lor, clear thru"
She stitched along now. on her
| sideboard scarf of tan linen, Keeping
| one eye on Mary Ellen, nursing a
lame chick by the kitchen fire. There
had been four Taylor girls, every one
of them clever and pretty. and all the
| other girls were now safely married
off; but the youngest had been IKE
the lame chick in her hands, delicate
when young and brought up with eX-
ira tenderness and forbearance. She
was twenty-five now, a ripe old age in
Baldwick. Girls who had not step
ped off" before twenty-five were re-
garded with a dubious eye. And the
| worst of it was, Mary Ellen never
seemed to sense that she was hurting
traditions one bit. She had gone to
high school and later to normal
school.
Not from my idea at ALL" Mrs.
Taylor was fond of saying sadly. Her
father wanted her to be a teacher,
and she did teach for a spell, but she
didn't take to it one bit. Likes to
study botany and the stars. Reads all
| the time anything she can get from
the library. 1 think too much learn
ing spoils a woman for what she was
intended for. 1t didn't hurt me a bit
to marry and raise a big family and
1 do wish Mary Ellen'd make up her
mind"
How old is Mr.. Satterlee. mother
do you SUPPOSE" Mary Ellen's voice
held a low contralto note that always
seemed to clear the conversational at
mosph ere when she spoke.
Not a day over forty answered
Mrs. Taylor stoutly. Fine looking
man, too, and you can't say he isn't,
Mary Ellen.
1T isn't himself at ALL" said Mary
Ellen. IT'S his beloved wife, Ann
Every time 1 think of him l see her as
1 remember her when 1 was a little
girl. Wasn't she dear, mother? You
used to send me up to their house
after strawberries, I know, and she'd
| gather lilacs for me to bring back to
, you. She always looked so run down
and poorly, and he's so big and ro-
bust. / know l loved the columbines
that grew in her garden. They were
the prettiest anywhere around, and
one day he moved the whole lot down
Then there was one place in the low
, er meadow where arbutus grew around
the gray rocks. He blasted them al
out
. But that's just a mans way about
, such things, child" sighed her moth
err. 'Hewers of wood and drawers
4
. l don't see what else the pesky things
: are for, but a woman must be patient
1 remember Ann Satterlee. too-Ann
, | Jennings she was before she married
, him. Used to teach school for awhile
over at Hampton Roads. Naturally
curly hair and sang in the choir
( Seemed as if Mel did"
Did what, mother"
"Oh, just took it all out of her
, Even as a boy he was set in his ways
Course he took his fathers place sc
: young They say he's worth $1,000
now, besides the two farms and all his
} timber >
She died young, didn't she?'
Mary Ellens tone was full of compass
sion. "Ellwood was telling me how
sweet she looked the last time he saw
, her. He was only boy, but he re-
members. She wanted to die in the
east room, where she could see the
]
! in the north bedroom off the parlor.
, "Elwood's gossipy. Nobody had a
better funeral nor handsomer grave
. stone than Ann
, Mary Ellen smiled as she got up
from the chair beside the stove. The
r sick chick was doing in its box. Out
of doors the spring held full sway
over the land. She stood on the TIRES
hold for an instant, her eyes uplifted
to the beauty of the distant hills
!
! to the little village burial ground be-
, hind the church. it stood within its
four square rock walls, guarded by
pine and hemlock sentinels. Some of
! the old headstones were of slate and
half Sunken in the earth, a century
, and half old and more. Mary Ellen
made her way carefully along the
narrow paths until she came to the
one spot she sought 1t was the last
resting place of Ann. beloved wife of
Melvin Satterlee. Ribbon grass and
myrtle grew thickly over it, and a
white rose bush stood at the head
under the shadow of a tall, dark gran
lite shaft.
1t was just shutdown. Against the
reddening sky the pines showed in
dark silhouette. Mary Ellen knelt
down. pulling out some stray weeds.
Somehow she felt a yearning sym
patty toward the woman whose life
she remem bered SO well. She felt as
if Ann alone could understand now
and shield her from Mel Satterlee's
wooing. from money and prestige, his
woodlots and two farms, and if she
refused him she knew she could. not
remain at home. And besides there
was Elwood-Elwood only a year
older than herself, who had never
settled down, never made success of
anything he put his hand to.
They had gone to school together,
and she had always helped him to
pass his examinations. Later. when
she had gone ahead. he had written to
her of all his trips away from home,
of the long, joyous road jaunts he
took by himself. youths vagabond.
with only hope for comrade. Now he
had come into possession of the saw