Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1922-11-21

just two minutes before the train
pulled out. She was the last person
to enter the coach. 1t was crowded
with shoppers, all more or less laden
with the days spoils. Emmy found
place beside a very stout woman
and squeezed in with a murmured
THANK you" and showed her suit
case, which she had borrowed from
Mrs. Stevens, under the seat.
Emmy was very tired. She had
finished her work at Mrs. Steven
at z the night before. 1t was the
hardest place she had ever worked
in, for there were three small
children, besides the new baby, and
Mr.. Stevens was a terrible hearty
eater. Emmy sometimes wondered
where he put the seventeen pan
cakes which he ate for breakfast
every morning and the great bowl
Of potatoes he consumed at noon,
to say nothing of bread and meat
and pie and coffee. Then there were
the great washings and ironings and
dishes. Well, it was going to seem
just like heaven to have no more
than two Of everything to wash
after this.
The thought brought a smile to
her face. Two of everything-two
plates, two cups, two spoons, one
fer her and one for Andrew. An
drew had them all waiting in his
little house in Pine street, the house
where he had considered her worthy
of succeeding his mother. And to-
morrow, after she was married, they
would go there and begin house
keeping. What she wanted was a
home. She never had had a home
since she could remember. First it
had been Aunt MoPs where she was
always considered an interloper,
| though they were fairly kind; then,
she had begun to work out" and
6 o'clock last night, when she had
stepped for good and all.
She had arisen at o'clock this
morning and made ready and stolen
away up to the city to buy her wed.
ding things. And she had them all
there in the suitcase. She could
count them off on her fingers, for
she had planned and saved for
L1lCI1l So 1OllEs <A1llIO CIV lldu
them unnecessary and would have
married her just as readily without
them, but she had woTnan's pride
| to offer herself. duly appareled to
her bridegroom.
1t is true that all her life The had
| dreamed of a white satin wedding
dress, but, of course, that was utter.
| ly impossible. So she had bought
TO
lit and a blue ribbon for a girdle
There was the petticoat and other
| undertakings to go with it and q
| cheap little pair of white canvas
shoes and near-silk stockings. There
had been other things she had
wanted very much, but she had al
| ready spent so much money or
towels and things like that, which
she had all packed away in her
trunk, ready to be taken to her new
home, that she could not afford to
buy any more. AS it was, she was
quite content and happy with the
prospect of being a dainty white
bride for Andrew after all.
At NineVeh Junction some people
left the car and at Vega some more
got off. But the stout woman stayed
on till they came to Northbrook
There she removed herself and took
her parcels from the rack. 1t was
dark by this time and Emmy began
to feel pretty sleepy. She had room
now for her suitcase, so she reached
under the seat and hauled it out into
the space between her seat and the
next one. The seat behind was
empty, she noted, Of the stylish dark
haired girl who had sat there read
ing a book all the way out from
the city. She, too, had had a suit
case:
Far down the valley the lights o
| Camden sparkled like f1reflies. Emm,
aroused herself and yawned. An
drew might have been at the station
to meet her only that she had no
let him know that she was goins
| to the city. She wanted to surprise
him with the new dress on thu
morrow. Dear Andrew -
The train reached the station
Emmy caught up the suitcase AM
stepped into the dimness, scurriet
across the tracks and made for Aun
Mols. She lived on a shabby stree
in dark corner of the town in al
old green house, with all the grass
stamped out Of the front dooryard
| Emmy was glad that Andrew liked
| fresh growing grass as much as she
did. At least they would keep theil
| home neat and attractive. A smell
| of fried potatoes greeted Emmy as
she entered.
II kept some supper hot for you,
said the woman, who rose up from
the light of the gray-shaded kero
sene lamp.
Thank you, Aunt Mol. replied
Emmy. She was not very hungry
but she managed to eat little an6
drink a cup Of tea.
! ~ @NkNA