Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1922-11-25
TODAY'S EVENING STORY
REPOSE
Copyright by W. Werner)

l
to bridge over rather deep lit
tie brook. Just beyond is an ash
tree-a giant-and then the house
itself"
Stacey Window smiled family.
1.-THE directions seem very simple,
she said. "You are very kind, Mrs.
MacDowell. And 1 hope I shall find
all you fancy I shall find" she end
ed with a sigh.
"If it was just a fancy and not
firm conviction resulting from
knowledge l would not suggest it to
begin with" the other woman re-
piled. "Once long ago 1 went there.
But, no matter. / am an old Wom-
an now, and I've forgotten what 1
can. Time is kind, my dear. after
all, say what you will, and If it takes
away our roses, it still brings us
heartsease, which is better, if we
would allow ourselves to believe it.
"Some time" said Stacey, YEARLY,
when I have proved it all out 1
will tell you whether I agree with
you or not"
Every day of the last six years had
been leading up to the present mo-
ment. Her husbands death had
|
had been so carefully protected all
her life must go out to earn her own
living. She went into a. store, but
that did not give her enough to live
1 upon at first, so one by one she
sold her bits of furniture. Of jeWelry,
of dress, until she was stripped of
all save the bareSt necessities. Then
a long illness overlook her, and
when at last she staggered to her
feet her savings were nearly gone
and it seemed that the only thing
left to do was to die.
1t was then that Mrs. Mcdowell
appeared. Stacey had sold hosiery
to Mrs. Mcdowell for two years,
and they had found little some
thing in common over the discus
sion of prices, values and qualities.
She had gone to the store, had
missed Stacey and inquired concern
ing her, and had sent flowers and
message: IT want to see you when
you are we'll enough" So as soon
as Stacey could walk she had gone
all the way from her own narrow
crowded street to Mrs. MacDowell'
broad, clean avenue, and there she
had learned that plan had been set
on foot concerning her.
There was little house in the
country, not too far away, where
not only rest and recovery but re-
pose of soul might be found. Stacey
was to go there. It was an expert
ment, Of course, and 1t would take
her last cent practically, but Mrs.
MacDoWell's assertion that it was
worth while persuaded her that it
might be. At least. she could not
work yet for long while, and she
might get we'll faster where there
was good air to breathe.
At dusk two days later Stacey
stepped from the train and suitcase
in hand started down the long, lels-
urely street which was about all
there was to the village of haywood.
When she came to the deep-set lit
tie brook she had curious sense
of approaching home. Home! When
all that comprised the word had dled
with Dan six years before. She went
on to the ash tree and there was
the house just as promised.
It was low white house with
odd carved curleycues supporting
the overhanging roof and porch
that came out to meet one like a
cordial friend. Far back from the
ISITGGI
hollyhocks, peoples and ferns. So
small and alone and clean it looked
that Stacey was instantly impressed
by it's quiet and comfort.
A tall, slender old woman, with
scrutinizing black eyes, opened the
door. Miss Wimdom?" she said
after a close look at Stacey. Come
right in
Mrs. Window" corrected Stacey
as she stepped in.
| An atmosphere of white paint
braided rugs and old furniture sur
rounded her. The worn, shallow
stars led her to a room. low, wide
and airy.
''I'll set your supper when you're
ready for it," said Anstiss Roe.
Stacey went into her rooms and
shut the door. She took off her coat
and hat and sat down upon the floor
within the bay window. Leaning her
head against the sill, she looked up
into the branches of the great ash
the endmost twigs of which scraped
the wall as the wind played them
back and forth. The window was
wide open and the sound of the NOV,
ing leaves filled the room with a
sound Ike that of sea waves. The
murmur and the deep greenneSs and
q certain freshness of scent Ike that
of the woods soothed her immeas-
urably. She had not slept much
in nights, but now she slept pro
foundly.
Anstiss Roe found her when she
came upstairs to see what had be-
come Of her guest. The moon had
risen and was shining through the
foliage upon Stacey's face, worn to
pathos but peaceful in repose.
Next morning Stacey awakened
late. : She went downstairs to find
the house in perfect order and An,
stiss Roe waiting for her with a
breakfast Of scrambled egg, coffee,
and hot biscuits, which were to be
dressed with butter and honey.
'Some folks relish bit of sweet
with their breakfast" Anstiss said.
And to my mind there amt. no
pleasanter sweet than good fresh
clover honey"
''It tastes delicious" said Stacey.
And it did. She was amazed at her
own appetite for the food.
Afterwards she went out and sat
on a little bench in the grape arbor,
listless, weary and still thought-sick.
presently she began TO gaze up at
the clustering punches Of green
grapes above. A birds nest peeped
among the leaves. It was as empty
now as ones heart. She sighed
drearily. Then she became aware
that she was not alone. A frisky
gray kitten was climbing her skirt.
The kitten cuddled it's silken body
to her cheek and began to purr re-
sponsively.
That's my kitten!' The high lit
tie voice, peculiarly childish and car
rying, came almost as a shock to
her. There stood tiny girl regard
ing her with great blue eyes. Her
hnhhed hail. WAS the color of Stacey