Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1920-12-03
JOURNEYS END
BY ETHEL NJ. FARMER.
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uONH Oh EtiuloNn y Hldil street uuii
the very cobblestoneS under foot gave
forth the heat of an oven. Major Car
ter's sorrel mare, her head hanging
Imply like that of toy horse on u
WORKOUT elastic, bore in stolid pa
tience the flies buzzine about her ears
too weary to swish her tired old tail
After the wholly unnecessary pre-
caution OF tying the browsing mare to
a nenrby hItching post, The widow Of
the late, Well-remembeTed Major Car
ter made her way past row Of Ian
guild radISheS and dropping lettuce
heads which adorned the front of Elm
towns combined grocery store and
meat market Once inside, she rested
her capacous market basket upon the
counter as with an abstract air she
awaited the clerks attention.
Good morning, good morning. Mrs.
Garter! Amt you little late getting
down this morningT
Recalled TO herself by that worthy's
voice, she inquired gently:
Have you some real nice tender
loin steak today? About two pounds,
/ think"
"Yes, ma'am," the butcher replied
cordially; right off the ice!"
But the tiny package he put in the
old lady's basket never in the world
weighed more than a fraction of what
she had ordered This fact, however,
passed unnoticed; she was calling for
three dozen of eggs and four loaves
Of bread.
The butcher, his back turned to
shield his action from the lady's eyes,
put three eggs in a bag. These and a
single loaf Of bread he placed beside
the meat in the basket. Still, with the
same occupied air, his customer paid
what would have been surprisingly
small amount for her purchases and
departed.
The diminutive figure of an "errand
boy" who had been interestedly OBJ
serving the transaction from behind
the shelter of a cheese box, now
stepped into view. He addressed him
self to the man.
That's the way yuh do em, is it,"
The butcher turned with a sudden
softened look in his eyes.
Poor old soul" he said, "she can't
remember they are all gone She comes
in here day after day, ordering food
enough to feed a family of four men.
l don't suppose she has ever rightly
gotten over the shOck-two sailor sons
drowned at sea, the youngest lost in
France and the major snuffed out over
night. Folks say she just lives IN the
past, always waiting for those boys
and wondering why they don't come"
Twenty minutes later Martha Car
ter drove the mare into the barn, quite
as ramshackle an affair as the beast
itself. When she turned her tired feet
down the path worn to the kitchen
door by the three boys, whose happy,
hungry faces she was always expect
ing to see, her mind was pitiessly
sane
No, they would never come back;
they were gone, gone.
The bare. brown canes were leaf
less. But there was no surprise In
her faded eyes; she had known now
for several weeks that it was dead
Jim's rose was dead; yes, and Louis
they were all dead, The tears streamed
UNDECIDED down her thin, brown
cheeks her heart was dead, too.
AT last, with a small trembling hand,
she dried her eyes and turned to 60
but of a sudden something caught her
attention, She stopped quietly over
the tiniest bush and the pulse in her
withered throat tluttered-for heart
breaking second stood still! Johns
rose was alive. Yes, yes, there was a
wee bud on the stem Yet, why if 1t
bad not died did 1t wait till July 70
leaf out? There was no one TO an
swer the unspoken question, but the
warm drops that sparkled on the last
little bush were tears of gladness,
The rest of the day the widow spent
in reassuring herself Why, of course,
her baby couldn't have left her. Be
day more than 90 years ago, when
John, yellow-headed and round as
butter ball, first wobhed on his uncer-
tain little legs, His father was hold
ing the tail of his lacy white dress
while she on her knees waited with
OutStretched arms to receive the bold
adventurer What bravery that Jour
ney required But he had conceive
courageous steps and he was Growing
in her arms, triumphant.
"Oh, darling. darling she had said
smuggling kiss in the pink folds OF
his little fnt neck, MAY your journeys
always end In your mothers arms"
The sun sank AZ last. and with the
sweet graSsy-scented dusk that sense
of waiting which for SO long had per
vaded the mothers heart deepened
She felt her boy coming Before the
dim mirror over the kitchen sink she
patted her soft hair. She "ddied up"
her black dress and smoothed the
cre0ses from fresh white apron.