Perth Amboy evening news., 1920-07-01

49,
she makes you e Anne Carter,
love her. suffer with her and long
for the fulnllment of her dreams
for happiness.
CHAPTER /
There are all kinds of streets in
life. There are the broad, fair
country roads, bordered with SUI
mach and wild trailing vines where
the stroller along LIES roadway
may tread a path so straight and
own tombstone at the other end.
There are the city streets teeming
with people who jostle and push as
they hurry along. there are the lit
tie side streets that we journey into,
short cuts where we sometimes go
astray and journey days before we
reach the wider thoroughfare again.
Watch the wayfarers on life's road
way. Always their eyes are strain
ed ahead. They tread the stony
pathways unheeding in the hope
that tomorrow they may enter a
fairer, broader road. They hurry
along the narrowest, dirtiest street
for the glimpse OF something un-
known that they may glimpse just
around the corner
1t is always that way with life.
There is always the tomorrow. II II
had not been that way with Anne
Carter. she sometimes felt that she
would not have had the courage TO
go o n
Anne remembered her mother as
something beautiful that had been
hurt. In the dreary days of her
childhood her mother had been the
one bright spot of color, shielding
her from her fathers stony gray
ness She had been seven when her
mother died and subsequent hap
penings were rather jumbled in her
mind. Anne remembered a long
gray house set in a rolling country.
a house with many rooms, far too
many rooms for her mother to
manage. She remembered her
mother at the huge kitchen to put
something on to boil. She remem-
bered thinking how lovely 1t was,
all flushed with rosy color, for al
ways her mother was very pale. 1t
was only over the stove that her
face flushed to brilliance and she
looked SO beautiful.
Anne remembered the hot June
day when her mother fell on the
kitchen floor. She did not move as
Anne bent over he crying with
fright, and Anne had run out to
the fields to her father. He had
come striding back, his face dark
and sullen and with Anne trotting
behind him, her childish heart hfl-
ed with fear.
In the big hot kitchen he had
lifted his wife up as IL she had been
a child and had put her on the big
old-fashioned lounge. but there had
been no tenderness in his manner.
He wasn't sorry that mother had
fallen on the floor.
After that Aunt Martha had come
to stay at the big house. Anne did
not like to watch Aunt Martha bend
over the kitchen stove. Her face,
reflected in the glare of the Goals.
did not look like mothers. 1t was
big and dark like fathers. Aunt
Martha was fathers sister.
Mother lay in the big walnut bed
upstairs and Anne used to steal up
and sit beside her in the cool dark
ness. Mother wore a white night
gown with a frill of lace around the
throat and sleeves. Her beautiful
hair was strewn over the pillows.
Anne used to make up stories about
her, but she vas never allowed TO
stay with mother long. There was
always things for her to do down.
stairs. Aunt Martha said that she
might as well be useful, but her
mother used Il whisper:
Never mind, darling, next year
you'll be going TO school and things
will be different"
Aunt Martha and father used to
talk together every night. 1t was
always about mother.
81 always knew that she'd never
be a bit of good to you," Aunt
Martha would say in her harsh
] voice.
j, Her father would smoke his pipe
| gloomily, his eyes fixed on nothing.