Warren sheaf. [volume] (Warren, Marshall County, Minn.) 1880-current, 1918-01-30

''Talk about me and my complex
ion !" gasped Carol, wiping her eyes.
I'm nothing to Connie and her fam fam
lily pride. Where will we live now, IA.
sther?"
S. Wen rent a house any house We
like u.
Rent! Mercy, father, doesn't the
conference furnish the elders with
houses? We can never afford to pay
rent! Never!' y
oh, we have salary Of twenty-five
hundred year now" he said, with ap.
parent complacence, but careful t,
watch closely for the effect Of this
statement. It gratified him, too, much
as he had expected. The girls stood
stock-still and gazed at him, and then,
with violent struggle for self-com-
posnre Carol asked: 0
"Did you get any of 1t in advance1.
need some new slippers. 2
So the packing was finished, a suit.
able house was found dern. with
reasonable rent-on Maple avenue
where the oaks were most magnificent.
and the parsonage family became just
ordinary folks" q parsonage house
hold no longer.
Mr.. Starts new position necessitated
long and frequent absences from home,
and that was a drawback to the family
comradeship. But the girls pride in
his advancement was so colossal, and
their determination to live up to the
dignity Of the eldership was so deep
seated, that affairs ran on quite Sc
renely in the new home.
One day this beautiful serenity was
broken in upon in a most unpleasant
way. Carol lo,ked up from de Senec-
tute' and flung out her arms In an all
relieving yawn. Then she looked at her
aunt, asleep on the couch. She looked
at Lark, who was aimlessly drawing
feathers on the skeletons Of birds in
her biology text. She looked at Con-
ME, sitting upright in her chair, a small
book close to her face, alert, absorbed
oblivious to the world. Connie was
wide awake, and Carol resented It.
ssWhat are you reading, Coma" She
asked reproachfully.
Connie looked up, startled, and COZ
ored little. "Oh-poetry," she stam-
mered. ".-- -.s..~
Carol was surprised. Poetry" she
echoed. "Poetry? What kind Of
poetry" =. .r-..~..
Connie answered evasively. ut is
by an old Oriental writer. 1 don't sup
pose you've ever read it. Khayyam Is
his name" ....
"some name" said Carol suspicious
~. "What's the poem?" Her eyes had
narrowed and darkened. BY this time
Carol had firmly convinced herself that
she was bringing Connie up-a belief
which afforded lively amusement to
self-conducting Connie.
"Why, it's The Rubaiyat.' It's :"
"aThe Rubaiyat!'' Carol frowned.
Lark~looked up from the skeletons
with sudden interest. The Rubai-
yat? BY Khayyam? Isn't that the old
fellow who didn't believe in God, and
heaven, and such things--you know
what mean-the man who didn't be-
lieve anything, and wrote about it?
Let me see it. I've never read it my
SELF. bit I've heard about IT, Carol
turned the pages with critical disap-
proving eyes. 49,. ss...s5e....
: II don't believe it, you know Con.
nie said coOlly. .:I'm only reading it.
How can know whether it's trash or
not, unless I read it? - 5r-,.@
Ministers daughters are supposed
to keep their fingers clear of the burn
ing ends of matches" said Carol neat
~. "We can't handle them without
getting scorched, or blackened, at least.
Prudence says So"
Prudence said Connie gravely, us
q dear sweet thing, but she's awfully
old-fashioned, Carol; you know that. -
Carol and Lark were speechless.
They would as soon have dreamed of
questioning the catechism as Pru-
dence's perfection. .::+. &
"She's narrow. She's darling, OF
course, but she isn't up-to-date. I want
ITO know what folks are talking about
| L don't believe this poem, I'm chris
tian. But I want to know what other
folks think about me and what be
lieve. That's all. Prudence is fine
but know a good deal more about
some things than Prudence will know
when she's thousand years old. .
The twins still sat silent.
"Of course, some folks wouldn't ap
prove of parsonage girls reading things
like this. But I approve of it. I want
to know why I disagree with thi:
poetry, and can't until know where
1--WE disagree. It's beautiful, Carol
really. It's kind of sad. 1t makes M
want to cry. It's
1--WE a big notion to tell papa OF
you" said Carol soberly and sadly.
Connie rose at once.
"I'm going to tell papa myself"
Carol moved uneasily in her chair
"Oh, let it 60 this time. III just men
toned it to relieve my feelings.
won't tell yet. I'll talk it over witt
, you again. I'll have to think it owe