The Bolivar County Democrat. (Rosedale, Miss.) 1887-1969, 1922-08-26
THE BURNT MOTH
BY GRACE w. ABBOTT
- - I. q NJ . . = . . |.
20 by Mcclure Newspaper Syndfcate)

In those dark, prison workshop days,
from which she had just escaped. Even
as the worm, enveloped in its cocoon,
breaks from its bondage into beau
tiful thing of gauzy wings and gay
colors, only to be destroyed in the
flame of the candle, so had she broken
from the squalid surroundings of her
home life into the gayer life of the
city, only to burn her delicate wings
in the flame of crime. For hers was a
crime. Desperate envy and longing for
the beautiful things of life had led
her to the first timid venture from
the path of righteousness, success in
her theft had encouraged her to great
er crimes, until the purity of her girls
soul was smirched with greed and
lawleSsness. Then detection and
prison, where she learned her bitter
lesson, where she lost her joyOusness,
her faith, and her sweetness-and she
was only, twenty-five.
Now-once again she was free, but
such a sight as she presented, shu&r
fling listlessly along the park path.
She dropped on the first bench she
came to- utterly detected, tired, hun
CRY and alone.
Martin Leonard had taken a short
cut through the park to his ciNb and
had succumbed to the beauty of the
spring night. A sort of holiness crept
over him, appealed to his better self,
and he walked along purged of the
baser thoughts of the day. Suddenly
the figure on the bench attracted his
attention. How could anyone droop so
on such a night? He approached the
bench slowly, warily, but the sound
of dry sobbing assured him of real
trouble and he dropped beside shs
girl Startled, she raised her face
from her hands, strangely pathetic in
the pale light.
Don't be frightened" he reassured
her. II heard you crying and l want
to know if l can help you"
Dumbly she stared at him, uttering
no sound.
He took her handa They were like
ice.
"Come, come, this will never do" he
said, briskly Tell me all about it."
After a while his persistence and
kindness drew from her the sordid
story, and then for while both were
silent-the successful young man and
the little waif. Finally he began to
talk gently, not looking at her, telling
in a dreamy sort of way about the
wonders of the springtime, SO appar-
ent all around them. He called her at
',tention to the newness of the leaves,
the grasses, the fresh beauty of the
flowers, the peacefulneSS that was like
O benedictiOn.
"And people can be like that, you
know They start out In the spring or
life in all their beauty and fresh,
young strength, and they wander away
and do things they ought not to, and
yet, each day to them may be spring
time, that gives them a chance to
start over again, like the trees and
the flowers, to prove to the world that
what is passed is not forever-that
we can show them the real goodness
that is ours" He paused, and found
her big eyes, wide with wonder, like a
childs fixed upon his face. Seer he
finished, kindly.
"You-you mean that there is a
chance for me to start my life over,
like the flowers, and"
He nodded.
He took her home to his mother shat
night, and that good lady took her to
her heart, and put her TO bed. In The
morning she found her sleeping quietly
with traces of tears on her cheeks,
but IA serene expression withal.
Kindness and care brought the little
waif back to health, and instilled into
her heart an undying love for her ben
efactors. She studied stenography and
proud was she, when she displayed
with quivefing lips the first honest
money she had ever earned.
Martins heart had long ago been
the little girls own personal property.
He adored the ground she walked on,
vet there was never|a sign until this
day when she held out her money to
"Oh, Marty, it's you | have to thank
for all tlhs-you wonderful man; and
please, now, Marty, | shall go away
and not bother you more. L can earn
my own living. | can show. the world
now. Marty" the tears choked her,
and she stopped.
The man beside her caught her III
his arms, but she struggled fiercely
against him.
"No! Marty, please No" she cried
desperately, but he held her tightly,
telling of his love. She did not relax,
h,,t raised her face to him, murmur-
ing mo; Marty, darlin'-you can't
love me-you can't-I'm-a thief-and
-a-a-convict! y
"sada." he said, his dark eyes fixed
on her face you must never never
in all your life again say those words.
Won are not a thief. You were thief,
and you paid the penalty. Now you
arc fine purest little flower that ever
came out in spring. and / want you to
no nv wife. You say that you are
grateful to me. Sada-cant you see
need you now?"
with a little cry she came to him.
"Oh. Marty-Td give you my life!
y
Those in Martin Leonard's world
never heard where he met his charm
,np little wife, yet never had there
heen such a devoted couple, and when
a