The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1918-01-05
Mary Benson's Victory

Out-of-doorS, though the day was
late in May, the wind walled and the
rain fell constantly in gray, depress-
ing sheets.
Mary Benson, drumming her slender
white fingers restlessly against the
window panes, down which innumer-
able sparkling raindrops chased each
other increasingly, gave vent to her
feelings presently in a groan of dis
content. The trees beyond the gar
den were blurred gray-green mist.
The lilacs hung their drenched bios
SONS and dripping leaves disconso-
lately, the tall white narcissi in the
flower beds by the window made q sad
and stricken spectacle of adversely
as unexpected as it was surely unde-
served.
What rotten summer weather."
said Mary suddenly and viciously. She
was eighteen years of age, very pref
ty and not a little spoiled, and on
such day as this inclined to regard
the encircling walls of her home just
as would an unhappy poor wild bird
the imprisoning bars of it's cage.
Mrs. Benson WINGED visibly as her
young daughter spoke. She was rath-
er an old-fashioned woman, and as
yet had never grown used to the
| slangy expressions and the free and
Independent attitude of the modern
young maiden.
My dear, wish you would not use
that ugly adjective SO often" she de-
plored, in gentle, tired accents, as
| she tackled on a patch to a corduroy
knickerbockers, the property of the
youngest of her three schoolboy sons.
But it is rotten" persisted Mary,
in disgust.
Gods weather is good weather.
as my poor father used always to
say, Mrs. Benson replied with smile
of tender recollection. Then, you
know the old saying, Mary, my dear,
| that:
| A wet and windy May
Fills the farmyard with corn and hay
And with all this terrible war upset
| ting the world and raising food prices
| to such degree, I'm sure any wealth.
er that would help to let people live
should be more than welcomed by
| u.s."
Mary was silent for minute.
1T is SO rot-so dreadfully dull,
she corrected herself, ito be kept all
day in the house with absolutely moth
| ing to do. And | was SO looking for
ward to going to the Dennison garden
| party. 1t was to be their farewell
entertainment to the neighborhood;
but of course it couldn't possibly come
| off on day like this, and now, just
as likely, they may not have it at all
l don't know what I'll do when Jenny
and Elsie are gone. If ! could only
go and be nurse with Elsie."
| A troubled look came into Mrs. Ben
sons pretty blue eyes, faded from
| their first sweet forget-me-not tint by
many long years of anxiety and sad
ness.
MY dear, | don't know how I could
| spare you,' she said, in a GREATNESS
half-frightened way. And your poor
father would miss you terribly. Oh
| Mary, there is so much that you and
| should do for bim--for as the days
go on l grow more miserably afraid
nay, certain--that he will never, never
be any better There-he is awake
now, / think-I am sure | heard him
cough. And if you would go up for a
while and read to him | should be sc
| glad. There are SO ilany things
want to do doWnstairj this evening;
and know it would Please him great
ly, too, dear"
| Mary looked at her mother in sur
prise. But don't think papa really
cares for me to read to him. she said
then. He told me | might stop last
evening after l had been reading for
hardly quarter of an hour
He does, dear, | assure you-you
know he loves to have you near him
and about him. But, you see, dear, he
is so fond of you that he does not like
to tire you, and fears the atmosphere
of a sick room might make you dull
and sad. And then, Mary-I-I think
your father sees that you don't do il
willingly"
Marys pale, pretty face flushed
suddenly red all over. But do
mother she protested. you know
I'd do anything for father if I only
thought he wanted me to. And wish
you wouldn't say, mother, that father
will never be any better. lit hurts !
Mary's voice was choked with sobs
and her eyes grew suddenly dim.
My dear, | only hope it isn't true,
her mother said sadly. But DR.. Lyons
has been attending him for SO long
and without, as far as can see, the
very slightest Improvement.
Then I'd get another doctor, if
We're you, mother Mary replied hot
ly. Il always did think DR.. Lyons a
regular old crook. For goodness sake,
why not have Specialist" Her new
born realization of her fathers dan
ger made her speak almost angrily.
IF we could afford it" her mother
sighed. But your father would not
hear of it when mentioned the mat
ter the other day. He knows how
| hard it is for us to live at all; and to
get in a specialist at great expense
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