The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1919-11-20
SHOWED IN
BY NELLIE a. FAIRBANKS.

hand, as she watched the small white
snowfakes whfrl around, then land in
little piles outside the window.
"How | hate this old, lonely farm
house with its rickety old roof" and
Jean shivered as the low moan Of the
wind broke the stiffness.
"Just because Toms father left him
this old rattle-trap is no reason why
should spend my life here"
Living in the old, lonely farmhouse
had been the bone of contention BE-
tween Jean and Tom ever since he had
brought her there bride one year be-
but beauty in the place that had al
ways been home to him, jeans heart
ached for cozy little apartment in
the city.
The sound Of heavy footsteps told
Jean her big, good-natured husband
was approaching, and she realized 1T
was supper time. Leaving the win
dow, Jean started for the kitchen to
be greeted by her husband with the
words: "Well, grille, | guess we are
I'm for big snowstorm." Jean did not
reply, but prepared the supper in
gloomy silence.
After the supper dishes were.
washed and put away Tom put some
logs in the fireplace and drawing an
armchair close to the fire he gently
pushed Jean into it, and seating him.
self on the arm they watched the
burning logs in silence. Suddenly
Y wwxsTN a.
the city tomorrow, Tom, and see
mother for a few weeks. 1t doesn't
seem as though / could stand this
place any longer" "All right, Jeanne;
perhaps the change will do you good"
Tom said good-naturedly. But as the
light from the cracking logs fell upon
his face Jean could not help but see
the panied expression. Nevertheless
she had made up her mind TO go and
longed for the noise and excitement Of
the city; and the next morning, al
though it showed hard, found her ON
her way.
The train was four hours late, and
when Jean arrived at her mothers
coy four-rOom apartment she was
tired and cross. Somehow her
thoughts kept turning back to Tom as
she saw him last, standing by the win
dow, smiling and waving until she was
out OF sight.
The evening hours dragged slowly
by, and 40 the steam pipes sizzled
Jean found herself comparing the
kissing noise to the soft cracking OF
the logs at home.
At ten o'clock she went to her old
room, and after she had prepared to
the curtain she gazed, as she had the
night before, at the white fakes pill
Ing MP on the roofs beyond, and as
ehe watched she pictured Tom. sitting
by the log fire. The wind blew the
wet fakes against her window ana
Jean hated the sound. She looked at
the dock on the tower across the way.
Tt was now IL 80. Just ten hours be-
fore the next train home! Home, how
strangely sweet the word sounded.
Then an awful fear seized Jean. What
af the snow continued and the trains
would be unable TO rum Her fears
were realized, for when she awoke the
next morning the snow was still COM
ing steadily down. Mother. and father
pleaded with her to stay, but nine
o'clock found her on her way to the
station.
The train was stalled for hours at
different places, and it was not until
nine o'clock that night that Jean
tho T9tflo country cfo&inn Cnd
as no caTyall put in its appearance
she started afoot to the farmhouse.
The big drifts i'm places were nearly
to her waist, and lie 1t were not for
the bright light in the low farmhouse
window ahead Jean would have lost
her courage.
At last, cold and wet, she crept soft
~ up the steps, then quietly opened
the door. Tfp-toeing softly, she made
her way to the sitting room and up to
the old armchair, and by the light of
had fallen asleep. Pushing back his
RULED hair from his forehead, she
pressed her cold cheek against his
warm one.
With q start Tom awoke, exclaim-
ing, happily: "Why, grille, what does
this meanY Then Jean explained
]. how unhappy she had been the night
before. ''f had been obliged TO walk
oil the way from mothers, Tom.
would have come just the same" and
ms the wind moaned again through the
chimney, Jean nestled closer and
whispered: That's music, dear, com.
pared with the kissing OF steam pipes,
and the dying light from the logs fell
upon O contented couple4
copyright, 1919, by the Mcclure News
paper Syndicate.)