Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1920-04-09
MISS TERRY
BY MILDRED WHITE.


bake, and went TO spread snowy
| luncheon cloth upon her mothers
| tray Every day as the hands of the
kitchen clock pointed to II 80 Miss
Terry did this very thing, the one ex-
| ception being when the potatoes were
either boiled. or creamed.
E'len's father had been stern man.
permitting no gayety or frivoIity in
his Own domain.
Miss Terry was treated with re.
spect by the community, her unsef
isb de- OtiOn by-word For few
stopped to consider the WEAKNESS of
her l.fe's routine, or fingered TO bright
en- its dullress. II was vision Of
years 10 come, like those which had
passed in samenesS, which came to
ellen upon certain morning rs she
put the luncheon cloth OF her moth
er's tray. A charge of some kind
must he wrought, Ellen thought des
perately, and when she had placed the
tray before the grateful invalid Ellen
took up last nights Farm Herald"
and an advertisement caught her eye
Young woman teaching In Farmdale
Academy would like board in quiet
home" she read Then Ellen Terry
committed the one daring act of her
life. She answered the advertise
ment, independently and without con
sulting her mother. then fearfully
awaited reply. The answer came in
person. Miss Betty Blair of Boston,
presented herself for approval, and
was apparently delighted over the
prospect of her new boarding place.
A new world opened to Miss Terry
within the shelter of her own little
home. Betty's presence seemed to
Oil each corner with new and joyous
interest. The letters which she
brought back from the little post Of
fee and shared contidIngly with Ellen,
were an interest In themselves.
was there never one that you cared
about? Never, really, dear?"
Ellen had shaken her head vigor
ously, but after awhile, when the
griddle cakes were carefully turned,
she had said apropos of nothing:
do you ever talk to Dan Wise, the
postmaster, Betty? Dams real
pleasant man. His wife died two
years ago. He went off away from
here when he was married and only
just got back after she'd died"
Betty flashed glance from her
bright eyes.
"You knew him years ago?" she
asked. Before he was married."
Ellen nodded 1--WE used to go to
school together"
"He often asks for YOU" Betty said
when l go. for the mail, 'Hows Miss
Terry today he'll say, and how's
her motherT"
The little teacher smiled as she
bent over the cakes, then as suddenly
she sighed.
THE time has just flown since I've
been with you, dearie Ellen" she said.
I'm almost sorry to go back to Bos-
ton"
When the girl had gone, It was FL
len who was sorry. Sorry with a
loneliness which sent her often to the
post Office hoping that Betty might
have written. Betty did write; pages
and pages, CHEEKY record of her own
doings.
Thought lots of you" big Dan Wise
told Ellen. always talking bout
how fine you were. Somebody else
thinks of you, too. it seems" he added
curiously, and handed to Ellen a sec
ond letter.
A pink glow Of surprise effused her
face now as she received the unusual
missiye At home again in the kitch-
en-, she sat staring at a manly Scrawl
across an lnclosed rose-bedecked card. |
You have won a true friend" she
read simply.
The mysterious message was but the
beginning of many More frequent
than even BettyS chatty communica-
tons. Brief were these messages, but
bespeaking always deep admiration,
true friendship. No name was signed
to the manly handwriting. Each time
that big Dan passed one of these en-
velopes through the post office win
dow his keen eyes searched Ellen
Terry's face, and Ellen becomingly,
but guiltily, blushed.
Reckon" Dan said laughingiy one
day, you've got a faithful friend
down there In New York. You might
tell us about him, Ellen. Leastwise
you might tell an old frlend-like
me. John Towne, his name is, see
it's on tie outside o this envelope"
Ellen took the letter and hurried
toward the door From there she
threw back At big Dan, an unaccus-
toned smile.
"Mebbe sometime l VIII tell you, If
you come over, Dan" she said, then
stood ahashed nj her daring
BE over tonight" Dan answered
promptly.
Ellen could scarcely concentrate
her mind Oh he letter, but the reali-
cation presently came to her that this
John Tonne OF New York, writer of
her adminng missiyes, was the