The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1931-02-06

1reSn DOX or cnOcOlateS on the table
| beside her bed and motion picture
magazine. This was Elean0r's way of
| filling in possible hiatus in her moth
er's time while she was passing an aft
ernoon away at bridge or matinee
| party, with this pleasant invitation to
| lie longer abed and munich chocolates
and read the picture magazine.
Then something happened that Gre
ated quite serious situation between
Mrs. Midgely and her son-in-law. AS
Mrs. Midgely weepingly confided to
her daughter later, probably Spencer
had been in the right, but he need
not have been so rough about it.
With tears of sympathy in her
bright blue eyes, Eleanor assured her
mother that that was Spencer's way"
He had nat meant to be blunt. Mrs.
Midgely realized that that was prob
ably true, because later her son-in-
law apologiZed and sent her roses.
But the heart within her lay sore.
An old gentleman in the hotel, Mr..
MOsely, man of sixty, of refinement.
widOwer of twenty years, no chill
dren, one of the cronies with whom
Mrs. Midgely was in the habit of sit
ting about while the younger folks
played cards, developed the immedi-
ate need of one thousand dollars. A
mortgage had fallen due some few
weeks before certain remittances of
his were sheduled to arrive from
South America.
There was in Mrs. Midgely's saving
bank exactly twelve hundred dollars
to her credit, her sole patrimony in
the form of money which she had re-
ceived from the sale of her Connecti-
cut farm; money, she told herself oft
en-, that lay between her and complete
dependence on Spencer.
Figure it out later as she would,
Mrs. Midgely could not, for the life
of her, realize how it had come about
that she and old Mr.. Mosely had
walked across the street to her bank
where she had drawn out the money.
There was something so appealing
about Mr.. Mosely, the fine white snow
of his hair, his eager yet withal en-
barrassed eyes, his desire to hold on
to the small Vermont holding which
was dear to him because of memories.
Not that Mr.. Mosely had suggested
the loan. On the contrary, 1t had all
come about through the incident of his
showing Mrs. Midgely some snapshots
of the old place in Vermont.
1t stabbed her to see this place, the
small rambling farmhouse, the sugar
trees. the copious barns, the flowing
meadows, the little detached summer
kitchen, with buckets of drinking wa
ter on a bench in front of it, reminis-
cent not only of Mrs. Midgely's own
home, but of something deeper and
more atavistic. Here was the typical
home of the ancestors of Mrs. Nudge
ly. Desire for that kind of home ran
in her veins. Great-grandmothers and
great great-grandmothers of Mrs.
Midgely had lugged buckets of drink
ing water to benches outside of sum-
mer kitchens.
Anyway, the impulse to come to the
rescue Of Mr.. Mosely was bigger than
Mrs. Midgely. Almost before she real
lied it, the deal was accomplished and
the little old man, with white hair like
snow and tear in his eye, had kissed
her hand.
Of course, it transpired that the
farm in Vermont was not worth the
saving. Scrawny, sterile land, tum-
bling barns, broken fences. Spencer
had been right. His anger justified.
Mrs. Midgely had to endure the hui
initiation Of beholding her son-in-law
in position to say, 81 told you So"
He never said it, except by his man.
ner. Eleanor, tireless in her effort to
act as buffer between these two, saw
to it that he did not.
What happened in the end was
again as bewildering to Mrs. Midgely
as had been the incident of giving
over the thousand dollars. She only
knew that here, in the figure of this
white-haired old man and in the pros
poets of his broken-down old farm, lay
her happiness.
Mrs. Midgely and Mr.. Mosely, with
Eleanor and Spencer and one or two
of the hotel guests for witness, were
married in the Morley suite.
The Moselys live on the farm In
Vermont. There are practically no
modern improvements, so it happens
that Mrs. MOsely, concerned for Mr..
Mosely's rheumatism, literally does
carry the two buckets of drinking wa
ter to the bench outside the summer
kitchen.
Every morning at six, the two Of
them set out on the endless chores
of this farm Of theirs.
The winters are cold, frozen ones
full of hardship, but filed with a sure
happiness. Springtime on the Mosley
farm is delightful. Along about June,
there arrive Eleanor and her two
youngsters to spend the summer.
Spencer comes up, too, from time to
time. He has recently advanced his
stepfather-in-law loan Of one thou
sand dollars for purposes of mending
broken fences, supplying new farm i'm.
plements and installing electric light