The Rock Island Argus and daily union. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1920-1923, 1921-08-17
The Daily Short Story

had lent.
Pm in college" she beamed. 81
must study my lessons for tomor-
/ row." She would pore over the
! books, thinking of the great things
| she would do some day.
BY and by the father and mother
| died. The farm went to pay the
| mortgage and Catherine moved
into a small room near the mill
1t was poorly furnished and looked
| out on to other houses as poor as
itself Catherine had no one but
herself to talk to of her grand
surroundings" but what did it mat
! ter? To her the room was full of
F, appreciatiVe listeners
do sit in this easy chair" she
would say to imaginary Mrs. Brown.
! "or perhaps you would like the
sofa better, it is so soft. Isn't this
beautiful painting over the dress
er? That cost a. thousand dollars,
and this one over the piano cost
five hundred"
She would gaze at the play pie
lures in rapture, then become en-
thusiastie over the prospect from
the window To her it was quite
real. Such great trees and lilac
bushes! The lilac is my favorite
flower, but those roses are lovely
and look at the mountains-the
sunsets over those hills are gor-
geous-you must come at sunset
time, Mrs. Brown"
She would spring up, take an i'm
aginary baby in her arms, rock it
TO sleep and lay it in the cradle,
singing a lullaby.
Sometimes Catherine would tell
the mill girls of her beautiful home,
its furnishings and her family and
the visitors, but they did not I'M
derstand.i They laughed and called
her queer.
Thus the years passed and Cath
crime grew old. She could no long
er work in the mill. With the few
dollars she had saved she hired a
small cottage where there were
grass and trees and air.
Better go to the Old Ladies'
Home" the mill people told her,
where you can have someone TO
take care of you" But she shook
her head
This is better for me-" she smil-
ed. II can take care of myself, and
| can entertain my friends here"
They wondered who her friends
were.
AS the days went by Catherine
was not lonely. There were real
fields and sky. and the imaginary
callers. 81 think I'll invite Mrs.
Day and her children for tea to-
night" she beamed, folding her
tiny note to send out.
Then she put on her alpaca,
shiny >and mended but clean; a
white apron and a ribbon at her
throat. She always dressed for
company. She put her teapot on
the small oil stove, set the table
with clean white cloth and plates
for six. Sitting at the head of the
table, she would talk with her iHl-
aglnary guests, passing plates of
cake and pouring white tea" for
the children.
Sometimes Catherine went to the
door to watch her grandchildren"
play In the yard, calling them by
name. Carrie, that was a good
Jump" BE careful. Mamie, don't
let Tommy fall; he's little, you
know. The blessed dears; they're |
Just as their fathers and mothers |
were at their age
Catherine never felt alone. Her
llfe was peopled with those she
loved, friends who could sympa-
thlze with her and understand her.
Could anyone have more than thate !
She gave her thoughts, her love, |
her sympathy to those children of |
her brain, The spirit of unselfish- |
ness and sacrifice was hers. She
lived a life of sympathy and love
and felt that love returned. What |
more in life is there to ask for?
Did she not have 1t all?
Catherine lay down enc day upon