News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1922-06-21
OF course I changed schools. !

] IA course i changed ScnoOls.
knew Mother'd want me to, when she
knew, and so l told her right away. !
thought she'd be superb and naughty
and disdainful sure this time. But
she wasn't. First she grew So white
thought she was going to faint away.
Then she began to cry and kiss and
! hug me. And that night heard her
| talking to Aunt Hattie and saying,
! ITO think that that poor innocent
! child has to suffer, too" and some
more which / couldn't hear, because
her voice was all choked up and
shaky
Mother Is crying now quite a lot.
You see, her six months are most up,
and I've got to go back to Father. And
I'm afraid Mother is awfully unhappy
about it. She had letter last week
| from Aunt Jane, Fathers sister
heard her read It out loud to Aunt
! Hattie and Grandpa in the library. 1t
was very stiff and cold and dignified,
and ran something like this:
Dear Madam: DR.. Anderson. de-
sires me to say that he trusts you are
bearing in mind the fact that, accord
ing to the decision of the court, his
daughter Mary is to come to him on
the first day Of May. If you will kind
ly inform him as to the hour of her
expected arrival, he will see that she
Is properly met at the station"
Then she signed her name, Abigail
Jane Anderson. (She was named for
her mother, Grandma Anderson, same
as Father wanted them to name me.
Mercy! I'm glad they didn't. Mary
is bad enough, but Abigail Jane"-D
Well, Mother read the letter aloud,
then she began to talk about it-how
she felt, and how awful it was to
think of giving me up six whole
months, and sending her bright little
sunny-hearted Marie into that tomb
like place with only an Abigail Jane to
flee to for refuge. And she said that
she almost wished Nurse Sarah was
back again-that she, at least, was
human.
"'And see that she's properly met
indeed !" went on Mother, with an in
dignant little choke in her voice. "Oh,
yes, l know! Now, if it were star
or comet that he expected, he'd go
himself and sit for hours and hours
watching for it. But when his daugh-
ter comes, he'll send John with the
horses, like enough, and possibly that
precious Abigail Jane of his. Or may
be that Is too much to expect. Oh,
Hattie, | can't let her go-I can't, |
can'tr
/ was in the window-seat around the
corner of the chimney, reading; and l
don't know as she knew | was there.
But | was, and l heard. And I've
heard other things, too, all this week.
I'm to go next Monday, and as 1t
comes nearer the time Mothers get
ting worse and worse. She's so I'M
happy over 1t. And of course that
makes me unhappy, too. But | try not
to show it. Only yesterday, when she
was crying and hugging me, and telling
me how awful it was that her little
girl should have to suffer, too, told
her not to worry bit about me; that
| wasn't suffering at all. / liked It.
It was ever so much more exciting to
have two homes instead of one. But
she only cried all the more, and
sobbed, "Oh, my baby, my baby !"-so
nothing l could say seemed TO do one
mite of good.
But | meant it, and told the truth
| am excited. And l can't help won
dering how it's all going to be at Fa-
theirs. Oh, of course, l know it won't
be so much fun, and I'll have to be
MARY" and all that; but it'll be
something different, and l always did
like different things Besides, there's
Fathers love story to watch. Maybe
he's found somebody. Maybe he
didn't wait a year. Anyhow, If he
did find somebody I'm sure he wouldn't
be so willing to wait as Mother
would. You. know Nurse Sarah said
Father never wanted to wait for any
thing. That's why he married Mother
so quick, In the first place. But If
there is somebody, of course I'll find
out when I'm there. so thatll be in
And, anyway, there'll be
the girls. l shall have them.
I'll close now, and make this the |
end of the chapter. It'll be Anderson
Vile next time