The Waterbury Democrat., 1931-12-18

This was truly a very bitter dusk, the coldegt the winter had yet brought, although still 1t was not the time of the great cold. But surely the wind could not be more bitter than this, even in the great cold. Siu May shifted the great load of straw she had on her back and tried to place 1t between her. self and the wind. But this could not be done. The wind blew dry and icy from the north, and sne must face north to the town where the hut was where she lived wltn her father and the two younger children, the sister and the bany brother. She must press on against the wind.
 She hastened her steps somewhat as she thought of the two younger children. They had been alone al. day, the little girl taking care or inc baby. because the father pulled a riksha. As for Siu May, she spent every day thus on the hill lands outside the town, gathering fuel from the hills already stripped and shorn. She pulled roots and broke branches from the trees planted by graves, she edged up to little hamiets and snatched handful of straw from the scanty ricks. But the villagers were watching for such as she. It was a hard year for all, because the floods had reached even here, and they shouted and set the yellow dogs on her if she tried twice.
 It was hard having to go thus alone. If her mother had been alive she would not have been alone like this. But her mother had been swept away in the flood when the dyke broke. Who would have thought 1t could come so quickly, swirling in great whorls and wheels of muddy water? Her mother had little feet - she could not run so fast. Siu May had climbed a tree, and the father seiz- the two little ones had rushed to a little hill top. But the mother was a slow woman, who never could move fast. She stayed a mo- ment to snatch some clothes, ana the moment was too long. Siu May could see again even now how the water rushed into the door. into the house. The mother never haps, caught under the low roof until the earthen walls softened and sank. Even then she might be pinned under the beams.
 Giu May stared straight ahead into the wind. Tears crept out Of her eyes and froze upon her cheeks and upon her 1ashes. When she put up her hand to brush them away, they stuck frozen to her lashes. Well, then, she must not cry. She must hasten to the two little ones. They would be cold and hungry and longing for the mo- meat when she came home and It the grass between the four bricks piled together and heated the iron cauldron for rice gruel = 8 little rice and much water these days, for their father could not earn sought to feed them. The town was full of men like him. men whose land lay under the water. and who tried to earn Q penny or tive . day. There was never any store of rice = never enough for two days. If he earned 8 penny or two above the hire of his ricksha, he bought a handful of rice. If he did not, they heated water and drank 1t. But she often managed to find a few cabbage leaves Tn some heap of waste and they put it into the water and it made a taste, so that the children thought themselves Q little fed.
 How this wind pressed against her! It had hands, icy hands, pressing against her breast, her thiRhs, dragging to the load on her back. These rags she wore were scarcely better than nothing, her feet bare. There had been no time to think of saving anything. Her mother had drowned trying to save their clothes, their few win- ter clothes. They had only these thin summer coats and trousers now, and no hope of more. At night they all covered together under straw. The thing was to keep the two little ones from freez- ing. When there was a wind like this, the straw was no use.
 Would she never reach the town? She had started home too late this day. But she had watched the sun, too. When 1t sank be- hind the pinnacle of a distant cliff upon inc eastern mountain she always turned homeward. 1t was the sign. No, 1t was this wind pushing her back at every step. She suddenly felt 1t again in a fresh great gust. It seemed to blow through her thin body as though she were spirit. It grew dark, and ahead she could barely see the outline of the city gate. IT she could make the shelter Of the gate she would give herself just ten breaths of rest. Yes, she would sit down while she drew ten breaths, and let the bundles weight rest upon the street for so long as she could breathe ten times.
 At the thought of that rest she plodded on, feeling strangely light and disem bodied in the wind, not Knowing that for all her lightness she moved very slowly. She hao not eaten all day. There. was nothing to eat upon, the barren hills, not even leaves upon the trees.
 She though no further now than the city gate. If she reached there she would rest the ten breaths. She held her head low and gave herself up to the icy wind. The city gate-the city gate - she kept the goal before her. At last she reached 1t. The wind was sud- denly cut off and she felt the damp chill of the bricks almost warm. It was quiet and almost warm. She felt her body come back to her and suddenly the grass weighed unbearably heavy upon her. She would take her rest now.