The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1922-10-17

once more in the quiet obscurity of
her own home town.
Glenwood laid itself out In the mat
ter of decorations for its first Old
Home Week and Carrie descended
from her train to find the shabby sta
ton of her memory glorified in
streamers and drapings and festoons
of colorful bunting. Yes, and there
was even old Eb Smith, the station
master, all spruced up for the oc-
casion to the extent of a genuine
white collar and a flower in his but
tonhole.
A number of other passengers had
descended with Carrie. and the IN
usual amount of stir and hustle dis
tracted Eb, who wasn't as young as
he used to be-. Then, all of sudden,
he caught sight of Carrie and actually
broke off in the very midst of direct
ing a corpulent, ~prosperous-looking
gentleman to the Glenwood House.
well, well, welll If it amt. Carrie
Brown, what used to sit on the bag
gage truck and wait for her dad on
the 6:1S. Well, well, well!'
He had grasped both her hands and
was swinging them joyously. Sudden
ly he dropped them and smiled en-
barrassedly. "Sho' now, I'm being
kind of free, I suppose, only I forgot
for a moment and could only see you
as pig-tailed, long-legged little Carrie
instead Of"
"why, of course. Eb!" Carrie
spoke heartily. "You-you can't know
what it means to receive such a well
GOMEZ"
"Welcome?" exclaimed Eb prompt
lyH'Guess if you'd sent word ahead
you were coming the folks would all
have been down to meet you with a
brass brass bap& Stopping at the Glen Hen
Brown, here. Carrie NJ. Brown, mind
YOU I'D to the GlenWoOdi"
still the same cordial old fellow"
reflected Carrie pleasantly, bowling
rapidly along in the bus. But not I'M
til she had registered, received the key
of her room and was turning away
did she become vaguely aware of what
was happening. Borne across the
lobby came the clerks sibilant whis-
per to group of loungers. "See that
name? Carrie M. Brown! Sure. the
big poetressi Daily Verse, you know,
for Daily Needs. Gosh!'
The following days passed as in a
triumphal dream. Carrie had returned
to Glenwood only to be hailed as its
favored daughter. From one end of
the county to the other the "Glen-
wood Clarion" had circulated her
homely household verses. She met
quotations on every lip. A committee
from the Reading club visited her
and begged for {. few minutes read
ing from her own works. She was
asked to occupy the seat of honor on
the grandstand on the Green, and
'recite ITO Work, Not Wrangle, Is
Our Aim and Creed" which had been
adopted by the local chamber of COM
merce as it's motto.
In between times trooped old friends
to visit and congratulate her, all de-
clared humble votaries.~ More often
than any came Horace Kimball.
"You never married?" Carrie asked
one day incredulously.
Horace shook his head. "After you
went there wasn't any one good
enough left" he said dejectedly. Then
he frightened. 'And now I suppose
but no, you've gone Beyond me-"
sidering thoughtfully.s All too well
she realized how little she became
the pedestal her fellow citizens had
endowed her with. And yet her simple
lines, platitudinous frequently, never
very spontaneous, had somehow
gained a foothold in their hearts. To
disabuse them would be unkind, per-
haps Impossible. -
AS for Horace. she had to confess
she looked more kindly on this well
set UP, middle-aged man THAI she had
on the awkward, tongue-tied youth.
Besides, he deserved something in re-
turn for his years of loyalty to her
memory.
She turned a soft glance toward
him. Horace, I'll marry you on /one
condition" she said whimsically.
THAT you never, once, accuse me of
being famous!"
"Have you forgotten, Carrie" asked
Horace joyfully, that I loved you long
before you ever were?"
Copyright, 1922, by Mcclure News
paper Syndicate.)