The Goldfield news and weekly tribune. [volume] (Goldfield, Nev.) 1911-1947, 1918-01-12
HER AWAKENING
BY MARTHA

oah0C puSUcu Tie DIOW
Oh MS into the bank and then be-
gan making a home in the edge of the
ozark country. After getting a patch
or mountain and valley into some sem
Diance OF a home, he was stricken and
died. Sanders was an unmarried man,
n the one whom he named as heir to
n little speck of a mountain home
was Grace Milton, then in her early
teens. 1t was with no little degree of
surprise that young Miss Milton re-
ceived the announcement at her home
In Virginia that she was the heir to a
certain tract of land In the Ozark
mountain country.
The months stretched into years dur
Ing the time that the little place had
no tenant, and the space that Ralph
Sanders had cleared there in the forest
became a wild tumble of young pine,
sassafras and bamboo. And before
long the low house that he had built
was completely hidden from the river.
Meanwhile Grace Milton was grow
ing up in the society Of her surround
ings, forgetful of the little wilderness
that was passing from her possession
because of unpaid taxes.
Spring had come again and Virgil
Ferris, one of the boys who had
romped over the place, now a stalwart
man, began clearing away the young
growth, little thinking that this very
act would restore to him the sweet
heart with whom he had quarreled.
About this time Grace Milton was
seeking vainly for some refuge, some
place where the memory of her bitter
words would cease to burn like a hot
iron in her soul. For she too had quar-
relied with the man whom she loved,
and all because he refused to have his
wife independent of him and his for
tune, while she desired independence
for the sake of maintaining her So
called "wOman's rights"
She had sought f~orgetfulness In suf-
frage meetings, in society, in charities,
church work and travel. But the pain
at her heart grew and would not be
eased. Then a solitary camping and
tramping trip to her Ozark estate,
which had long been a source of mer-
riment among her friends, suggested IT.
self.
After she alighted from the train In
the village of Runkle she learned, by
dint of much questioning Of the sleepy
agent, that the Sanders estate was
"where We see them young pine sap
Inns, that's it. About a mile down tn
river"
Many paths crossed and recrossed
among the slender trees, but none OF
them seemed to lead anywhere. She
was about to despair of ever finding
the log cabin, of which she had heard
little and spoken much, when she heard
a sigh-almost q sob-not far away.
Holding her breath and listening. fear
ing she knew not what, she heard a
mans voice, deep and rich and all I'M
trained, singing an old ballad. He was
evidently using an ak, for now she
heard the even blows on a log. A girls
form darted down one of the paths and,
without thinking, Grace followed. She
halted when she came in view of the
young man swinging the ak. for the
girl was running toward him now,
frankly crying. Grace stepped back
among the trees, but still within a r
shot.
The man exclaimed, "Oh, you" Then
no more was said until the girls voice
broke out:
"Jack! Jack! I'm so sorry l ever
said I wouldn't marry you and be a
farmers wife. I will, / will /; but why
have you begun planting here? Don't
YOU know how you always said 1t was
a sort Of fairy place and its owner a
fairy far away, who didn't want 1t dis
turbed?"
"Yes, I know" said the man, but L
Just decided hat fixing up the old log
house and seeding the cleared ground
wouldn't be disturbing even a fairy's
place; and anyway, I'm doing 1t for he
fairy"
"Who owns it now?" asked the girl.
81 do" came the answer. ut was
sold for taxes two months ago and l
bought it in for u.s."
The girl laughed softly. SLOW did
you know"
"Oh, I just knew you couldn't help
knowing how 1 wanted you, and that
you would really rather live with me on
a farm instead of in n Of those
cheap, gaudy cottages in the Center.
They are not real, dear" he said. soft
ly. Nobody wants a place that isn't
a home"
Tears stood in Grace's eyes now. A
home! "Nobody wants a place that
isn't a home" The words pounded
themselves into her brain. This was a
home for these two, and hers was far
away.
"Good-by, young loversl Good-by,
Ozark estate, I'm going home"
Copyright, 1917, by the Mcclure Newspa-
per Syndicate.)
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