The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1918-06-28
EVENING STORY
From the Beginning.
BY LINCOLN ROTHBLUM.

unbeautiful and of uncertain age. |
pulled the cane-bottom rocker closer
to the window, and. folding herfthin
hands in her lap. heaved a great sigh. |
"Zebiah," called a weak, complain |
ing voice from the other room. And
Zebiah lifted her angular form and
nstlessly walked to the bed where lay
a frail, old woman.
''What is it, mother?" she asked
gently, tho her voice had q weary
note in it, aren't you comfortable 2"
cit jest seems as IL can't get COM
Portable" was the querulous response.
IF face the window, the sun bothers
me; and if face the door, don't see
| the sun; and if I set up. my bones
ache" And the voice dwindled OF in
| a whining wall.
Zebiah did not answer. She lowered
| the shade to cut off the bright glare of
| the sun, Strengthened the pillows. and.
drawing up a chair to the bed, picked
up a book preparatory to reading.
Il don't want to be read to and you
| ought to know it." the old lady NUT
tered. her brow furrowing in a mil
lion wrinkles, you don't pay no at
tention to me at all, tho don't know
as ought to be expectin' much more
| from a stepchild.'
| Zebiah seemed restrained from ar
| guing by the invalid's weakness. Now.
4 mother" she softly replied, laying the
offending book on the table. don't
work yourself up. You know Doctor
|
| cited-your heart won't stand it,"
Mrs. Seagrave waved her shrunken
hands dri m: tically. There you go
| mentioning that doctor again to me.
Amt told you " I hate him with
his vile tastin' medicines and pills that
stick in my throat?" Her voice rose
to a shrill ;-ccent. Anyhow, pears
| to me he don't come to see me-every
other day would be enough to take
| keer of an old woman, to say nothing
l@f% Il L. L. 49,
| aroun'. I suppose it's my money what
! he's after as soon as I'm cold-run-
ming up big bill like that" And the
cutburst of temper was &c Lowed by
/ protracted, racking cough, rendering
the body so weak and helpless it
seal ce1y seemed alive.
Zebiah petted the scant, ashy-white
hair. Il am sure Doctor Mortified
does not want your money, mother"
she soothed. HE hasn't taken a PEN
given you. We all want to see you
get WE'LL
Her ministrations were Interrupted
by the entrance of a quiet, earnest
| looking man, whose bald head and
bowlegs seemed strangely at variance.
He smiled encouragingly at Zebiah.
How did she sleep last night MISS
Seagrave? he questioned n = 1zx
| tone.
81 was up all night, doctor, as the
cough gave her no rest. She Is not
much better this morning"
AS the doctor turned with profess
sional interest toward the patient who
lay so white and still. Zebiah stole
quietly from the room. It was the
mirror in the gilt frame. sole adorn-
ment of the bare walls Of this Sitting
room" that claimed her attention. The
close inspection did not please her and
quick tears of self-pity came to her
eyes. AS she stood off so that the
small mirror might reflect her figure,
the flat-chested. hipless, colorless re-
Election brought forth audible suffer-
ing.
Yes, I've given her my best years,
even If she isn't my mother. I've
stood her abuse and I've given ZIP
friends"
The thoughts seemed too great for
utterance and Zebiah sank into the
cane-bottom rocker which creaked
sympathetically, as she buried her
head in her arms. her shoulders shak-
} ing with her sobbing. Doctor Merri-
fled entered the room.
| Come, Miss Seagrave," he COM
} forted, patting her head, you mustn't
take such things so to heart. Your
mother has been ill a very long time
and you know she has been getting
steadily worse
a handkerchief already sadly wet.
"Oh, it's not that
! ct know you have been very patient
and good,' the doctor continued, and
he added in a hesitating manner: II
hope you will be rewarded"
The pent-up gates of suppressed
: emotion gave way What has my
goodness and patience brought me?
, have become a recluse-even the chill
dren can point out old Maid Zebiah,'
our minister questions me what dispo-
: sition I will make of her money, and
7 but yesterday I heard Widow Bliss re-
fer to some one as homely as Zeb1a n ,
What reward can atone for all that ?"
"You must not let such unkindness
weigh upon your mind, Miss Seagrave.
We all have our crosses to bear. Even
my life has not been a bed of roses
Zebiah looked up at the kindly face
! in surprise.
For a great many years." he con-
, tinued, not noticing the Interruption,
] st turned over every cent I earned as
machinist to support my crippled
: father and invalid mother and to put
my brother thru school. I longed to
study medicine, but
The memory seemed too poignant a
: pain to recall. Zebiah's faded coun-
tenance assumed a look of sympa-
thetic understanding. land for how
when was thirty-five," he spoke
! very softly, father died. and mother
, lived but a month longer My brother
: married and then I started to learn
all 1 QlQ hot tlfOW. IL 10 AOl easy ~
learn at thirty-five-not medicine, al
any rate-and it was ten years later
before I got the right to hang out that
l sign you see in front of my office. And
7 at forty-five, new doctor does not
! easily build up a practice in a small
: town-indeed here were some nights
e kwhen 1 sent myself to bed supperless
: like a naughty boy being punished for
l having spoilt-his Hfe," he added Bit
r terly.
:. Zebiah forgot herself as she saw
D the need for quick sympathy. "But
t look how splendidly you have done.
doctor, in the five years you have been
= here. Surely that is encouraging.
: TT is, if it were not counteracted
J, by hearing people speak OF that old
batch old badly and 'bow1egs,' and
= wondering who'll he leave his money
| to when he dies"