The Guthrie daily leader. [volume] (Guthrie, Okla.) 1893-1996, 1922-04-18

and the smutfy coainelds OF Illinois
the rain-crow flies low when autumn
threatens. croaking OF wet days ans
chest protectors. OF nights filled with
the commotion Of wind and leaves flop
ped wetly against windowpanes Ike
boneless hands tapping.
Then. and on. so surely. come the
melancholy days themselves. and
eveybody's plcket-fenced-in garden
turns 10 mud with pull to IL. suck,
ing In oyershoes and coxIng up slip
perily over the plank sidewalks
Wagon wheels sllther along the un-
msie streets as II cutting through
cold grease. Children. rejoicing in
double-sessIon, bob homeward an hour
earlier beneath their enveloplng um.
brellas like = procession OF low mush.
rooms.
Factory hands. their homes In the
very gigantic shadow OF the yelling
ton-Iowney Consolidated Wire Works,
carry with them grotesque newspaper
packs OF lunch against MONDAY and
rain-driven return home. On such days
the WellIngton-Lowney Consolidated
Wire Works provides each Of its five
hundred employees tin Of hot coffee
and a five-minute period to drink IL.
The box-shaped houses OF Spartan,
gray as old wimples. drip rheumy
tears from tin cutters. All Of an ex-
preston. with their second-story win
dows set Hat, like frogs eyes. the
square parlor window with the shade
drawn and the slantIng bit Of roof
over the small front door. Much In
effect these houses dripping. as II a
statue done In the manner the Greeks
loved TO chisel them. with eyes not
marred by pupils or irises. should sud
denly and without change Of express
sion thaw 10 tears.
Before Steven Kineady's square
faced house the garden lay beaten into
the mud. buried half alive. A row OF
gefanlums with brown bruised heads
died as they waited FOR their usual
transplanting to tin can and kitchen
window-slll.
Within that kitchen. the rain hard
as sleet against the windowpane. and
beside the range wool shawl and a
pair Of woman's overshoes cxuding.
Annie Kineady. her hair the color Of
red Goals. dishcyeled in her black
thick stun dress and her large white
hands clasped at the back Of her neck,
lay low in her rocker beside the range.
face upturned TO the squat ceiling and
a rain OF tears slashing II.
If only / was laying out next to
my baby. Liddy. II ! only was."
Opposite her. erect in sawed-off
chair. Llddy Kineady swallowed
through so tight throat that cords
sprang out In her long fleshless neck.
Its a sin before the Lord that a.
wife should take on so. Annie Beasley
kineady--a sin before the Lord. and
he could strike you down for X"
At that Annie Kineady leaned for
ward In her chair. wet lips parted and
her bosom. high as Juno's. rising.
"Then why don't He. Liddyi Why
don't Hef"
Girl, girl. it's afraid ! am even to
listen 10 you. for fear you'll be struck
down before my eyes." And she with !
drew. shuddering. to the stove side
why don't He; What ! got leftf
whatf'
"Ain't you got your husband7 Your
big. likely husband. girl? What In the
good Lords name has got your Come
what viii. he's your husbandl"
"Yes. Liddy, but"
you that's been the one all these |
three weeks TO comfort him and keep
s.im away frs~n the terrible blues that
gets him when he comes home nights, |
all Of a sudden to turn like--like this.
Annie"
"Yeh, to comfort him. To-comfort !
him. Bah!"
Liddy Kineady fell to fumbllng deep
In a region OF her black petticoat for
her handkerchief. blinking back the
oozing tears. and while she fumbled.
her streaming gaze fixed on nothing
in particular between the range and
the indoor cistern. Rain battered like
pepper shot.
To think I'm sitting here In my
brothers own house listening to his
cwn wife only five years after"
"Five years."
"Yes, Annie Beasley Kineady. FIVE
years since that April morning you
stood up with him I'm the back parlor
Of your millinery shop and was mar
ried to him."
God. 1--WE years."
Five years. and you knew what you
vas doing and Dragged about It. He
wasn't saint, but he wasn't a devil.
neither. and 1t Is more'n you can ex-
pect Of any man he should be morn
mfddlin'.-
oh. Liddy. what does a mans sis
Ter know about"
Sister. Didn't I raise him like .
mother, Raised that boy. motherin'
him when ! was so young l myself
,eeded mother almost Is bad as he
lid"
Il know. Lidjy. l know
.ReIssd him IKE my own. You can