The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1918-01-05
EVENING STORY
On the Mountain.
(By Susan E. Clagett. }

to a cluster of houses, broadened into /
a narrow road, and came to full stop
before a rough porch, upon which sew
eral men were seated in varying de-
grees of comfort. /
They were listening to one of their
number. He was reading, with trace
of impatience-as if compelling him |
self to be neighborly when his desire |
was to hasten away-the market re-
ports, the sporting page and the stock |
market But what interested him, the /
war news, apparently did not hold
their attention. They turned deaf ears
to news from the front, but were alb |
sorbed in the Army and Navy ball
game that had taken place the day /
before in Philadelphia.
What a sigh of relief, Willy Warren |
at last folded his paper, wished them |
good-day and, walking rapidly away, t
was soon lost to view upon the higher |
path. AS he disappeared from sight |
the chair of Uncle Johnny Peyton
came down on its front legs with
thud, as the old man said addressing
no one in particular:
Pears like Billy's mighty low in
his mind. He's in a heap of trouble.
I'm thinking
, What sort of trouble, Uncle JOHN
girl asked casually, as she came
thru the door of the postoffice and
general store.
Now, Miss May, yknow he listed
an don't know whatll become O. his
leedle gal. He's feared he'll have to
go fore he kin place her"
Il had not heard: but things right
| themselves in time, and this Will be
Strengthened OUT
! Maybe, Miss May, maybe. But y
know Billys got no one, leastwlse
{ wn hyar. Thar's an old aunt in
low y. an I guess he's writ her. but
haint seen fit to answe-, so 1 reckln
areter her, but he's riz her diffrunt.
She's prtty leedle gal.
BILLY don't blong hyar, y'know.
He jest come. Something the matter
with him. Never hearn tell of his
wife. Jest cone with thot gal an
she was a baby. Hired thot cabin
u yonder an did'n make fIien's till
the fever TUX we-alls then he come
down an TUX kyar of JIM nodding
toward a mountaineer setting on the
steps, then he TUX hold O. me. Reckin
we'd both be in the bone-yarl if he
| had'n."
$50 he made friends after ALL said
! the girl. 81 think the child will be
taken care of, Uncle Johnny"
Sure. But thot's not the pint, Miss
May. She's riz diffrunt." His voice
| took on \ wheeling tone. Il jest
onder if you could'n think up some
way to help Billy? He sartinly needs
iti'
]
reference, Uncle Johnny. 1 scarcely
kno7 Mr.. Warren
| Don't take no stock in SIGH talk"
said Uncle Johnny, reaching for his
twist of tobacco and cutting off a
piece of goodly size. when it comes
to dom things. an thinking up things.
Miss May, you're right smart. You
didn know we-uns when you come to
the mountains, but you now has US
trained to eat from your hand-al-
most
| She threw back her head and laugh
ed heartily. Almost is well put,
Uncle Johnny: but 1 don't see how
can help you in this
"Twont hurt to think erbout it, any
how, an p'haps you'll see light" was
his concluding comment. as. with
| glance toward the family outlined
path she turned from the group and
walked away
She had been on the mountain three
! yearS-at first for her health, then be-
| cause it claimed her. She had heard
all about Billy Warren, had occasion
ally met him, but save for the merest
| courtesy no word had passed between
| them. For some reason he had not
| impressed her pleasantly. This was
| probably due to the fact that he had
made no effort to know better one who
| had made friends with all the noun
| tain people.
But the talk of old John Peyton, or
some subconscious sense of trouble
| in the man himself as he stood silently
/ beside her that morning, waiting for
his mail, influenced her in the direc-
ton of her walk that afternoon Yet
she was not aware that she had been
so influenced until she found herself
| watching a child dabbing bare feet
| in the rushing water of a tiny stream.
| the while she hushed a corncob doll
to sleep.
There was no fear in the chiId's
| eyes as she raised them to the woman
| beside her. Instead there was a whis-
pered Hush; you'll wake her. She's
been real sick and is just going to
| sleep"
Mary Hilton dropped upon the
| ground and in an equally low voice
/ asked what was wrong.
| 'Daddy's says it's case of mumps
| or measles, he's not sure which; but
she's been so awfd1ly cross and has
tired so, he says there is no living
| with either of u.s."
=. Betty, to- whom are you talking?'
| The voice came from the shadow of
| the cabin.
"A pretty lady, honey
Don't tell mel fairy tales, child;
pretty ladies don't climb the noun
| tain
"She looks real. daddy. Shall I
pinch her and find out?''
Il wouldn't. I'll come and find out
for myself" There was a rustic of
leaves and Mary Hilton raised her
eyes to Billy Warren's face.
She did not move, and the child.
| with steady advancing fingers, again
asked: Shall pinch her, daddy"
| He did not reply. Instead he drew
| his hand across his eyes as if un-
| certain as to the realty When he did
speak his voice was oddly unsteady.
! Thank God, Hereafter shall al
ways believe in prayer"
| Mary looked at him thoOghtfully.
You have been praying, and / am an
answer to your prayer? In what way
especially?''
| You have come"
| You wanted me?"
| Yes
Then why did you not come to
!