The Washington herald., 1920-07-11


bing by its side; and presents
two strange figures approached
the church. The long shadow
was made by Miss Phoebe suns,
mers. the organist, come to prac-
tise. Tommy league. aged
twelve, was responsible for the
shorter shadow. 1t was Tommy,s
day to pump the organ for Miss
Phoebe. and his bare toes proudly
spurned the dust of the road.
Miss Phoebe, in her lilac-spray
chintz dress. with her aecurate
little curls hanging over each
.ear, courtesied low to Father
Abram. and shook her curls cerc-H
moniously at Miss Chester. Then
she and her assistant climbed 4
the steep stairway to the organ
loft. -
In the gathering shadows be-
low, Father Abram and Miss
Chester fingered. They wero
silent; and 1t is likely that they I,
were busy with their memories,
Miss Chester sat. leaning her +
head on her hand, with her eyes
fixed far away. Father Abram
stood in the next pew, looking
thoughtfully out of the door at (
the road and the ruined cottage.
Suddenly the scene was trans-
formed for him back almost n
score of years into the past. Fore
as Tommy pumped away, Miss
Phoebe struck a low bass note
on the organ and held 1t to test
the volume of air that IL CON-
tained. The church ceased TO,
exist, so far as Father Abrarn,
was concerned. The deep, booun2i
ing vibration that shook the little
frame building was no note from
an organ. but the humming of :
the mill machinery. He felt sure
that the old overshot wheel was
turning; that he was back again.
dusty. merry miller in the old
mountain mill. And now eve
ming was come, and soon would
come Aglaia with flying coIors.-,
toddling across the road to take
him home to supper. Father
Abrams eyes were fixed up IN tho, !
broken door of the cottage. -
And then came another wonder.
In The gallery overhead the sacks
OF Hour were stacked in long,
rows. Perhaps a mouse had BEEN.
at one of them. anyway the jar
OF the. deep organ note shook Z
down between the cracks of the
gallery floor a stream of -four.
covering Father Abram from head
to foot with the white dust And
then the old miller stepped into
the aisle, and waved his arms and.
began TO sing the IniIler's song:
The wheel goes round.
The grist is ground.
The dusty miller's merry. - n 80
and then the rest of the mira.-
Gle happened. Miss Chester was
leaning forward from her pews
as pale as the -four itself. her.
wide-open eyes staring at Fathssz
Abram like one in wakiDs<-
dream. When he began the sou-s-
she stretched out her arms tor
him; her lips moved: she called to
him in dreamy tones: Dada,
come take Dums home"
- Miss Phoebe released the low
key of the organ. But her work
had been done. The note that
she struck had beaten down the
doors of closed memory: ana
Father Abram held his lost ASIais
close in his arms
When you visit Lakelands they
will tell you more of this story.
They will tell you how the lines
of it were afterward traced. and
the history of the miller's daugh--,
ter revealed after the gypsy wan
derers had stolen her y on that
September day. attracted by her
childish beauty. But you should
wait until you sit comfortably on O.
the shaded porch of the Eagle
House, and then you can have the
story at your ease. 1t seems best
that our part of it should close
while Miss Phoebe's deep bass
note was yet reverberating ssftly.
And yet. to my mind. the finest
thing of il all happened while
Father Abram and his daughter
were walking back to the Eagle
House in the long twilight, almost
too glad to speak.
Father" she said. somewhat
timidly and doubtfully. have you
a great deal of money!"
"A great deal?" said the miller.
We'll that depends. There Is
plenty unless you want to buy
the moon or something equally
expensive"
Would ii cost very, very
much" asked Aglaia. who had
always counted her dimes so care
fully, ITO send a telegram to At
lanta?"
"Ah," said Father Abram, with.
little sigh, II see. You want to
ask Ralph to come" 20
Aglaia looked up at him with .
tender smile. :
Il want to ask him to wait"
she said. Il have just found my
father. and I want it to be Just
we two for a while. l want to
tell him he, will. have to wait" ."'
Copyright, 1920, by Doubleday. Page & Co.
Published by special arrangement with tn