The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1935-09-26
There's Always
Another Year
By MARTHA OSTENSo


big house, where one light was burn
ing in the living room. Sophronia
saw his arms outstretched toward
Jim's daughter, and heard the boom
ing greeting of his voice, and was
suddenly afraid. But Jim's daughter
did not break down. There was some
thing uncanny about the girl, So
phronia thought in confusion.
In the house, Phronie relieved Sill
yer Grenoble of her wraps and the
men took her luggage upstairs. With
firm belief in the efficacy of food to
dull the sharp edge of grief, Phronie
then busted herself preparing a plate
of sandwiches. Jason went to the
coole in the vegetable cellar outside,
and brocght in stone jug of ginger
beer, while old Roderick kept Silver
company in the living room. Roderick
smoked his pipe and looked at his
great, weathered hands and said very
little, for he was thinking of Jim
Grenoble and himself, and of how the
world can make two such different
things of common life. But the
warmth and kindness of the old man
required no spoken testimony.
When Sophronia returned with the
sandwiches, she saw a bit of color on
Silver's cheeks, and although her eyes
were darting about the room like
dark flames, they were no longer the
eyes of some sticken animal.
Sophronia placed the sandwiches
and glasses on the table with it's cro-
cheted dolly, and Jason poured ginger
beer into the glasses.
"Now, Silver" she said stoctly,
'you must have a bite. That darned
old car must have played you QUIT
sure did me-"
The men helped themselves, reach
ing out to the decked table in painful
fastidiousness with their large brown
hands.
Sophronia took in Silver's appear
ance in detail. The girl was slender,
but not frail as Phronie had at first
supposed. Her eyes were probably a
very dark blue, although by the light
of the acetylene lamp they seemed
almost black. Her hair was what
would be called ash-blond, she .decid-
ed, and it waved slightly and was
dressed in a plain fashion low upon
her neck.
Then Sophronia looked about the
room and saw it, in a twinkling, as
she had not seen it in years. She saw
it now beause she was wondering
what Jim's daughter was thinking
about it.
She saw the unobtrusive, faded tan
of the wall paper, with the silver
stripe in it. That was not in bad taste,
she thought stoutly. The curtains
were of ecru net, with side stripes
and valance Of plain blue rep; that
had been Roddy's idea. She saw the
upright piano of black walnut, the
keys yellowing, and recalled that I'M
til Roddy had removed it there had
been handsome green velvet scarf
on its top, hand-painted in pink roses.
Sophronia looked at the walls and
thought how much cosier they had
been with the pictures and notices
On them, and the burnt leather panel
with the head of Pocahontas and the
little calendar below. Now, on the
wall opposite her, were three small
ish etchings, placed step-ladder fash
ion. Black and white-no coler or life
to them! One was only land and sky,
the second the same with windmill
stuck in it, and the third was an old
horse Flooding across a frozen pond
dragging two-wheeled cart.
"And is this lawyer-this Benjamin
Hubbard you speak Of" old Rodsr-
ick was saying-''is he looking after
all the-the arrangements ?"
eyes," Silver replied softly but
very clearly. "Ben is looking after
everything. It was dads wish that
his body should be crenated and his
ashes sent hereto be near mothers
grave"
"And did he live long enough to
tell you that?" Phronie asked, clear
ing her throat.
"Oh-he spoke of that some months |
ago." Silver said, fright after he had
his first heart attack. But he men
toned it again-before he died"
81 see." Phronie winked rapidly
several times