The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1935-09-05
There's Always
Another Year
By MARTHA OSTENSo

ing with her brothers daughter, Anna
-"Silver" her mother had frivolously
called her because of the pallor of her
hair and skin. Sophronia was washing
the separator in the milk house when
Jason had shouted to her that she was
wanted on the telephone.
Alhert~ Symes, the telegraph opera
toI, had raed the telegram to her. He
had said first, clearing his throat: "I
have bad news for you, Mrs. Willard"
Phronie had said, eco on, go on, man!
Read it." Then Albert had proceeded
with the message: GAS attorney to
your brother James Grenoble I as
sumo the painful duty of informing
you that your brother was shot IA
tally early this morning by one Lewis
Rawson. Rawson was killed by police
as he was trying to make his escape.
Your niece Silver Grenoble will arrive
Heron River tonight's train. Take
care of her. Benjamin Hobbard."
{.Sophronia had made no outcry. She
y given Albert Symes curt"Thank
you." Then she had seated herself on
the char beside the telephone and had
looked up at it, there on the wall, for
a long time. Jason had stood near by,
fumbling with a piece of harness, or
something-she forgot just what. Her
eyes had moved to him slowly, and it
seemed to her suddenly that this step
son of hers was more hunchbacked
then usual. She could see that pitiful
excrescence of bone and flesh mount
ing from behind the line of his shout
der. She saw his mournful, deep eyes
like the eyes of dog that had been
run over and begged to be removed
from it's pain.
"Jim's Dead" she told him, as she
might tell him that the clock needed
winding.
Jason turned the bit of leather about
in his powerful hands-hands that
could bend a horseshoe inside out
without trouble.
How" he asked. His voice was
husky and soft as wind moving over
tall grass. "How did he die ?"
"He was shot,"
"Was he in Chicago still"
eyes"
,s<5s would be gambler shot him."
Jason said, and his glance fell.
81 guess" Phrone said. "His daugh-
ter is coming on tonight's train. 1t
was Jim's lawyer telgraphed."
''Too bad Roddy isn't here" Jason
said labriously. "He could meet her,
Phronie."
The angry red sprang into Sophro-
MAS cheeks. "You're good enough to
meet her, JASON" she said sharply.
and don't you think different"
"You've got to drive in"
GAIL right, Jase," she replied, to
have it done with. "Now Pve got to
finish the separator"
The shining metal of the separator
made whirling disks before her eyes.
Jim-Gentleman Jim! Her only BROTH
y1c, younger than herself-handsome
and wild as their grandfather had
beent Not made for this land their
grandfather had homesteaded on,
though Going off the deep end when
his wife, Anna Egstrom, that lovely
Swede, had died without asking your
leave! Jim had gone away then,
leaving her, Sophronia, in possession
of half this farm that had belonged
to their father and their grandfather
7kSeaving her with the responsibility
d4fiie entire farm, his own half as
well as hers! Going off after his wife's
death, with his seven-year-old daugh-
ter as though the earth had swallowed
them up. What had there been for
Sophronia to do but to marry Rod
erick Willard, the widower on farm
in the next county? She had decided
her share of the land to him because
he had had the money to work it-and
he had built this new house on the
ridge not more than stones throw
above the little oldplace in which the
Grenobles had lived for three genera
tions, in which Silver Grenoble had
been born and Ann Egstrom had died.
Roderick Willard had been kind.
Sophronie had loved him she suppos-
ed so far as she knew anything of
love. And his two sons, in their early
teens then, had responded to her
mothering had affectionately accepted