Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1921-09-28
HER sULLEN DAY
BY MILDRED WHITE.
20, 1921, Western Newspaper Union. J

Molie decided to walk to the top OF
the hill. The early spring air was in.
MIGRATING and perhaps on the way she
might be able to think out her prob
lem, She had come to the country for
that very purpose, because the hurry
and confusing needs of life left her be-
wldered. Grandfathers death had OF
Cured such short time ago that Mol
lie, left alone in the rented fiat, had
been troubled about many things.
When the furniture was sold and
the house vacated. Mollie found she
must at once consider some means OF
earning her livelihood. To the girl, the
great business world was a perplex-
ing place for which she had never been
fitted. Grandfather, in his later years,
was an exacting charge, yet Mollie had
been happy-that was her way. She
! was happy now, as she climbed the
steep hill, and stood looking down on
the picturesque village. The walk was
a long one; it would probably take her
most of the afternoon. But here and
there, as she went, she spied clump
of snowdrops forcing their way
through the grass, or a hopeful bunch
Of yellow daffodils. When the rain
came all unexpectedly, Mollie was
trudging along, absorbed in her medi-
tation. She stood appalled,; all down
the long road there was no evidence Of
shelter. Her light suit would be wet
fhrny1Uh IN tbic chn hn
walled April showers that came in late
March, and were tinged with March
chill. But what to do? The walk back
to the village was more hopeless than
the stretch ahead - Mollie forged
ahead. And then, as unexpectedly as
the rain storm, she spied the old hid
den house. It's broken chimney sig
nailed her, far back among the trees
From above came sudden queer
jangle of music, for there was
music, even in the weird sounds.
When her first fright passed, Mollie
became aware that someone was
playing tremblingly on mouth or
gan upstairs. And while she was
hesitating between investigation or
flight, shutting figure came creeping
down the stair-an old man. playing
the harmonica as he came. His eyes
blinked at the newly kindled fire and
the girl seated on the floor before it.
"Who." he quavered, ARE you?" He
sighed in evident relief when she told
him. 81 was afraid" he said, that
you'd been sent to rent the house."
He Strengthened determinedly. Its
my house." he declared. land it is not
for rent"
"Yours?' Mollie questioned.
The old man nodded sadly. my
wife and came here when we were
first married." he explained, land we
lived in these rooms life of such
happiness as few creatures are per-
mitted to know. Our children were
born here, and lived and grew and
then went their different ways. My
wife went her way, to Heaven. Then,
as there was no one left in the house.
my children agreed I'd better live
with Tom. Tom is a good son but,
you see, he's married to SUSIE"
The ending was eloquent and Mol
lie sympathized.
"And Susie is not good to your"
"She doesn't understand" the old
man excused, land when I feel more
in the way than usual, l come up here
to the old place and light fire and
dream of those past days-maybe,
sometimes play bit on my old har-
monica"
The faded eyes were apologize.
"Susie don't like the harmonica," he
said. An auto came crushing it's way
through the brambles A man sprang
from the car and in a moment was In
the fire-lighted room. He was good
looking young man, and his gaze rest
ed indulgently on the bent figure at
the girls side.
II came up after you, father" the
young man said. 1T is storming out
side. Susie told me I'd find you here
I drove out from the city"
The old man came forward with
dignity. This is my son, Paul Wor-
tuy, MISS, uOu UellcNc you ulcll
toned your name" he paused.
II am Mollie Moore" the girl re.
piled, land l sought shelter when it
began to rain"
The three fingered around the fire
as Paul Worthy sought and added an
other log. Then he discussed with
Mollie very frankly his fathers for
lorn condition.
"He can't be happy any place but
just here" said Paul, land as I am
obliged to live in my bachelor apart
ment in the city, l would willingly
fix this old place up to make it home
like for father, If I could find the
right person to take charge and make
of it-really home. Mrs. Ryan from
the village would be quite able to at
tend to the homework, while her boy
Tim could take care Of the garden.
But a trustworthy home manager
that is our unanswered problem"