Weekly Caledonian. (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1919-1920, 1919-04-02

= ing something around. Richard mu.
h put his baseball things away,
d keep telling him that IN burn thei
y up if he persists in dropping then
$ when he's done with them, nu
q of course wouldn't. A boys
: boy"
o Madam lola entered the little vnS
! sitting rOOm-the room with the "a
}, carpet on the floor that was ono
: Jacks mothers with one or two high
L backed old horse hair rockers Wit
!, Tides; the handicapped cente
l. table; the what-not in the corner; tn
2 high old secretary and the enlarge,
picture of Jack in crayon over tn
! mantel. II was a homcly. quiet com
Portable old roorl--a typical room TO
: woman with family of growing
, boys being raised in the country-th,
: windows massed with geraniums
pctuniaS, inch-plant and heliotrope
> Madame lola took one of the heavy
h0rse-hair rockers and ran her eye
over the things in the room dcprc
ciatingly.
"I'm glad you came" volunteered
Mary politely. 81 get so few visitors
way out here these days-with my
work in the Office keeping me so busy
during the week. Mrs Morrow is
over to the Browns this afternoon-'
Lord sake, Then why do you live
way out here" Why not move into
the village where there's something
going on"
ITS home" replied Mary
weakly.
Mbb glanced the room over again.
She glanced Mary over also--from
the worn frayed shoes on her weary
feet to the dark hair streaked with
gray done hard and fiat upon her
head. Truly it was difficult to realize
that these two women were almost
of an age.
MARY" she said finally, cts :.
too bad"
"What's too bad Mabcl?'
"Thc way you've ruined your life,
Mary. We started out equally, Mary.
You remember what | told you the
day after you and jack were n.;lried.
But you wouldn't take my warning.
You were dead set on this love bust
ness. You said the hard work didn't
matter. Ard look what it's got you
at last, Mary. Nothing but this.
And again hcl eyes glanced over the
room.
"It's home, Mabel" said
Mary again.
(Which isn't saying much, Mary.
l feel sorry for you, Mary. Indeed
| do! Oh | know that you think I'm
a snob and all that. Bot | Go feel
sorry for you, Mary. Pm sincere in
saying it. You've worked hard all
your life. You never went anywhere
nor had any good times. You're
spending the best years Of your life
in that pokey old printing Office now.
living out here in a lonesome
ole place in the country struggling
to raise six boys! 1t must be awful.
If there's anything could do for you
for old times sake, I'd do it in a
minute. That's really the tue reason
why | came out here this afternoon.
/ heard in the village how you were
living and-I came out I'd see
couldn't help you-money OF some
thing"
"You can't" replied Mary soft
ly, trfc hoarscly. 81 said this was
home. | mean it, Mabel. You can't
appreciate what that means. You
never had home, not real home.
Jack and l bought this place when
we were young and life was all sort
Of full of hope and pronise-again
you don't know what that means, I
Mabel"
81 was too WISE" cut in Mabel.
Catch me tying myself up to a man ,
md having kids that twist you out {
If shape and take away your good
ooks and make you dowdy and {
rumpish and tubby-but we've been
III over that before"
$50 you cannot appreciate the as
went on Mary. "On the
wallis here, Mabel, are scars OF little Il
household accidents the boys have
made growing up, the banks Of their i
oys and the prints of their grimy n
title fingers on the wall paper to il
Indicate the passing years. Jack died
here in the east room. His casket
'as carried out this door. Every piece
f furniture is dear TO me, Mabel. f
very room and door and window C
nd corner holds associations and Il
Mabel sometimes C
l the dark there's little ghosts y
lay around through these rooms,
label" :"
"For Gawds' sake quit, Mary. You tt
Xix spookish; it's enough to get on N
party's nerves. l should think b
ou'd go crazy living out here in this p
lshion with no man around to pro- I
,ct YOU m
"Thcy're dear to me; these things, f,
lese associations are, they've been A
y life, Mabel. You can't live in one in
ouse a. long time without every stick W
nd stone and nail in it bcin' sort &C
like your flesh and blood! a
"1'm thankful haven't got any as Sc
'ciations like those, Mary. There's tn
,thing like that to make me miser fiji
lie on dark and rainy days. I've ia
ways had good time and kept my to
re on the future. And if you'd done w
e same don't know as you'd been Gu
ing through this hell of worry and m