Plentywood herald. [volume] (Plentywood, Mont.) 1908-current, 1931-11-19
Fathers Son
By Euelyn Murray Campbell
There was never. anything to talk about

There was never. anything to talk about
except the days work and they were
hopelessly alienated there. Jimmy hat
ed to think of his mother sweeping
and polishing for other ome and
Trudy was bitter toward Joe Keifer's
laundry wagon. All her hopes had
come to nothing when Jimmy began
to drive the wagon and deliver bundles.
Those hours were long and hard
enough but to them he added unex-
planned hours that kept him out OF
bed until the middle Of the night.
Watching him hunched over his plate
Trudy thought fiercely that he ought
to have rest and fun,-a good ten hours
sleep and then time to eat his break
fast in peace.
why don't you go to a picture show
tonight" she asked timidly.
II got something to do tonight,
mom.'
20, Jimmy, you work hard enough
all day. You're SO young-you ought to
rest or play"
Her hand trembled and a little coffee
splashed on the tableclOth. He noticed
that; it meant more washing for her.
$50 do you work too hard, nom. ]
wish you didn't. Maybe some day you
can sit back like a lady"
That was the wrong thing to say.
Many a time she had fiercely reproved
him for such a prediction. she mao
not expected to have 1t easy. All she
had wanted was for him to grow, to
climb to a place she would never reach
She could be happy looking up to him
but now her heart caught IN pain. He
was exactly like his father when he sale
that. Jimmy was more like Clement
Payne every day, in looks, in every
thing. The old bitterness dashed into
her voice and froze the friendliness
of the boys shy smile.
1--WE been working hard since you
were born and Ill keep on while my
strength lasts. Where would we be II
I tried playing the lady"
He got up hastily and took his cap
from it's nail. He wa all closed up
again. He mumbled something and
went out, stumbling on the doorsill
in his hurry to get away.
Trudy sat still plating the table
cloth in her fingers. She was alone.
She had not even touched the surface
of Jimmy.
She went into the front room and lit
the gas and looked at the picture that
had a place on the mantel shelf. There
was the same face, boyish, eager, shy;
rough curly hair and cleft chin. When
Jimmy was older he would be as good
looking as his father, though he was
all raw rough angles now. That wasn't
important though-would he be like
his father in other ways, undepend-
able. changeable as quicksilver, taking
his own way over the life streams OF
others. 1t was easy to let herself i
into a river of Renaissance but the
love longing of her heart was stronger
than bitterness. If she could only find
a way to hold to Jimmy and keep him
from slipping away
All her years Of work had been for
him, so that he might have the chance
of study that would make something
fine of him. But Jimmy didn't want to
be a lawyer or q surgeon; he wanted
to drive a laundry wagon for Joe Keif-
err and work by night in a garage. His
mind was full Of unexplainable plans
that would bring about a miracle some
day. He was like his father.
Trudy's little house belonged to her
and she had kept it through foodless
and fireless days. She had always been