The Watertown news. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1917-1919, 1918-11-22


come to Elton, she had loved the blue
rim Of the mountains, the shining
leaved rhododendrons, and the wide
bowlder-strewn river. Nor had she
grown tired Of her work among the
girls, but sometimes she had felt some
thing was lacking in her life.
81 ought to change Schools" she
thought periodically, "it's staying too
long in one place."
But Miss Lister, the president, had
been there in content twenty five
years, and Miss Spear, the sewing
teacher, nearly as long. SO Anne
stayed, and her eyes that were starry,
grew wistful
On Saturday there came in the mail
for her a box holding six red, half.
blown dollhouse roses.
"Dear Lady Of the Song," the card
beneath them read, "please wear these
tomorrow instead Of the arbutus of
which robbed you last Sunday"
Anne divided the roses with her
roommate, but slipped the card out Of
sight.
Two weeks after the Rev. Nathan
Ledyard was installed as pastor Of the
church, and with his wife and baby
moved into the parsonage. A week
later Anne, at the station, saw the
young pastor greeting q brOad-shOul-
dered man, with thick, grazing hair.
Unseen herself, she had time closely
to observe Palmer before they went
away. She wondered she had not OBJ
served before how well set up he was,
and how his fine black eyes lost their
usefulness when he talked.
The next Saturday evening Anne,
invited to take tea with the Ledyards,
found Palmer in their little parlor. In
the course Of the evening she learned
that his conversation was delight and
his laugh infectiously boyish.
I'D love to stay for tomorrow" he
told her as he escorted her home, "but
must 60 to Lone Fir, where I preach
once each month. You see, some folks
want me, If I must only whisper my
sermons to them, but they can pay me
but little, so I've little money to do
good with. It's been only three years
since I could preach, but I ought not
to complain" he went on, "I'm getting
some success since I began to write
for the ma gazines-but find I'm want
ing, with all the heart in me, some
thing I've no right to wish for, or ex-
pect to get, and it goes hard!"
II intended my work to fill my life
she said to herself that night. II
thought If I ever permitted myself to
think of anything else-he'd have to
be q success in what he'd chosen to be.
Don't you go crying, Anne Mccall ;
you're thirty-five years old, remem-
BERT" -.
But the dignity Of thirty-ive years
did not keep the little teacher from
sobbing herself to sleep, nor from cry
ing over the beautiful letters that az
ter that came weekly from Trentville.
"Palmers going to preach in Bars
town tomorrow" Ledyard said to Anne
one Saturday in late July. "Cicely and
I will miss him awfully."
Under his keen glance Anne flushed
painfully. They had long since read
Palmer's secret and were doing their
best to help him to his hearts desire,
but even Cicely had begun to des-
pair. -s ...-.
The next morning the flood came.
| BY noon the river, raging torrent,
was over the links on it's bank and the
timbers of hundreds Of houses were
coming by on the yellow flood.
"Half Barstown's gone by this time, y
| Anne heard an old man near her say,
| and drowned!"
Anne could not sleep that night. He
might be among the dead! The next
! morning Edith called her.
They're sure six were drowned at
Barstown, Anne-Mr. Palmer, for. one.
He was rescuing a baby somebody'd
| left, and-well, 1t might be best for
him-afflicted so. Why, Anne, Anne!'
Anne was shaking her. flush! she
| said hoarsely. He'd a better right to
| live than you or Iv'
In the early morning the Ledyards
came for Anne. They were going to
try to walk to BarstOwn. 1t was only
five miles, but it seemed a thousand
| to Anne. Once they passed a baby's
| bed in a mass of drift across their
path. Anne felt her heart break at
sight of that little empty cradle.
II wish I had let him know I loved
him." she told herself, her lips cold.
II could have taken my savings and
| bought us home, and he could have
| written and studied. He wanted-he
! wanted to tell me he loved me, and
| was not willing to listen!'
"Mr. Palmer wasn't drowned" q
man told them at the ruined town,
''but somethin' hit him and he's badly
| hurt"
At the house in which Palmer lay
| the doctor met them.
"He's not dangerously hurt" he told
them, "only got some broken ribs"
Anne waited outside until Ledyard
and Cicely came out. Then they made
| her go in. He was lying, spent with
suffering, his eyes shining like Goals
in his white face. She had meant to
say she was glad to see him alive, to
know he was not dangerously hurt
She had meant to be very calm and
| self-pOssessed.
Instead she threw herself down by
the cot and laid her dark head on his
l