Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1922-12-05
Copyright, 1929

Copyright, 1929
Adelia Summer looked out at the
flying snowflakes and realized that
winter had come to stay for three
or four months at least, and that
she was a very lonely old woman.
Past her usefulness" She had seen
that sentence in a book she was
reading last night, and it had
haunted her sleep and arisen with
her this morning. Past her useful
ness" She had drunk it with her
coffee, thought it with her toast,
for she had little appetite for her
breakfast, and now the bitter salt
of it was in her fearful eyes.
Adelia was seventy, and strong of
mind, bone and muscle. She had
married at twenty, raised a large
family of boys, and seen them drift
out into the world and lives of
their own. Sometimes it seemed to
her that she had with her children
passed through something of the
same experience that a motherly old
hen would if she had been set on
partridge eggs and Matched a wild
brood instead of the tame one she
had expected. For a long time she
had had her husband; then he, too,
had drifted away into the beyond.
And now she was alone.
She always had been poor, but
lately, the boys had succeeded amaz-
ingly, and each We'd with the other
in sending her checks large enough
to provide for all possible expenses.
Her small four-room apartment was
very cozy. She had about her all
the beloved old things with which
her life had been ass -ciated for
years, but still she was lonely and
unhappy. For it seemed to her that
there was nobody who needed her
any lOnger-nobOdy to whom she
was necessary; nobody for whom
she could do one solitary thing.
And so she looked at the snowflakes
and Wept little. But it would, she
thought, he much better if she dried
her eyes and sat down to braid her
rug. She had intended to send the
rug to her son, Hiram. but now
that he was making all that money
his fashionable wife would not want
it on her polished floors.
Likely I'll find somebody to give
it to-" she thought. But her heart
was sore at the idea, for she had
wanted somebody who belonged to
her to have it, somebody who would
appreciate the love and care she had
put into every strand and stitch.
The telephone bell tinkled. Over
the wire came voice she did not
at first recognize. "Oh. it's you,
| Mary?" she said. 'Well, how are
you? Well? Both of YOU? That's
good. What's that? Why, yes, I
guess l cam" She hung up the re-
ceiver.
"Now if that don't beat ALL" she
thought. Mary Oliver wants me to
come over to her house. I wonder
what for
Adelia had known the Oliver girls
as she had known everybody else
in Slocumville for years. But it was
a surprising thing to be asked to
their house. Sounds mysterious, I"
she thought, as she hurried into her
Old mink cape and velvet hat.
When she stepped from her door
she saw the Oliver car waiting-a
fine sedan, with Mary behind the
wheel. you've come after me.
What did you do that for?" Adelia
| demanded.
Mary laughed. She was thirty.
| plump, bright and pretty You
didn't think I'd let you walk" she
retorted.
The Oliver girls lived alone in an
oldfashioned house back from the
street. Mary swung into the garage,
which was warmed and lighted. and
few minutes later Adelia was
taking off her cape in a cheerful
| living room.
'I kidnaped YOU for a purpose. :"
Mary said. while her sister, who
| looked near enough like her to ho
| her twin, laughed. I've always