Judsonia weekly advance. (Judsonia, Ark.) 1???-1922, 1921-01-13
CHAPTER lV-Continued.

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"Jim," she said, after a while when
the noise of the milking was drowned
In the creamy froth, I'm getting near
the end of this kind of thing Fathers
getting more and more set on money
all the time. He thinks should slave
along too to pile up more beside what
he's got already, but I'm not going to
do it much longer. I'm not afraid of
work, or hardship either. I'd live in
q shack if had to, I'd"
would you live in a shack?" said
Jim.
She shot a quick look at him. But
he was quietly smiling into his milk
pail and she decided to treat his
question impersonally.
Eyes, I'd live in a shack, too, if
had to. l put In my first years in a
sodhouse, and there was more real
happiness romping up and down the
land then than there is now. In those
days everybody was so poor that
money didn't count. It's differ
,ent now"
Jim did not pursue the subject, and
the milking was completed in silence.
Jim finished first, and presently the
rising hum of the cream separator
was heard from the kitchen.
"There he goes, winding his arm off
for me-" said the girl, as she rose
from the last COW. '"Poor JIM wish
/ knew whether it's just human kind
ness makes him do it, or whether"
She stopped, eoloring a little over the
Thought that had almost escaped into
Words -@---- .--.---.--
When the heavy grind of the sepa-
rating was finished Jim went quietly
to his own room, but the girl put on
clean dress and walked out through
the garden. At the lower gate she
stopped to pick a flower, which she
toying lightly with it in her fingers,
she slipped the latch and continued
along the path leading down into the
ravine To the right lay the bench
where the sodhouse had stood, not so
much as a mound now marking the
turned yearniHgly to il, and to the
days of the lonely but not unhappy
childhood which it had sheltered.
Presently she reached the water
and her quick ear caught the sound
of muskrat slipping gently into the
stream from the reeds on the opposite
bank; she could see the widening
wake where be plowed his swift way
across the pond. Then her own figure
stood up before her, graceful and 1.-THE
as the willows on the bank. She sur
veyed 1t minute, then ficked the
flower at her face in the water, and
turned slowly homeward. She was
not unhappy, but dull sense of loss
oppressed her-a sense that the world
was very rich and very beautiful, and
that she was feasting neither on its
richness nor its beauty. There was a
stirring of music and poetry in her
soul, but neither music nor poetry
found expression. And presently she
discovered she was thinking about
Jim Travers.
Her mother sat in the dining room,
knitting by the light of the hanging
lamp. Her face seemed very pale and
lovely in the soft glow.
'Don't you think you have done
enough?" said the girl, slipping into
q sitting posture on the floor by her
mothers knee. You work, work,
work, all the time. l suppose they'll
have to let you work in heaven"
"We value our work more as we
grow older" said the mother. :.
"It helps to keep us from thinking"
."rhere you go" exclaimed the girl;
hut there WAS a tenderness in her
voice. "NNorrying again. I wish
they'd stay home for a change"
The mother piled aer needles in
silence. "Slip away to bed, Beulah,"
she said at length. 81 will wait up
for a while"
Late in the night the girl heard
heavy foot deps in the kitchen and
bursts OF loud but indistinct talking.