Evening star., 1935-04-02

vi tI1dn J2iI16S lOVcu lllo 1l diiO-
l. mother Stimson.
Old Sarah was such a |
pretty, dainty old lady that no one
could help loving her. Sarah, her
daughter. had much of the Governors
dignity, but she never could compare
to her mother in looks.
The older Sarah's cheeks were as
soft and kindly as her voice. and her
eyes, even when she was close to
10, remained as clearly blue as the
first violetS James used to gather for
her each April on the river banks be-
low the mansion. Never in all his
life did James hear her speak to him
hastily or harshly-or to any one else
for that matter-and somehow she
always understood him a thousand
times better than any one else did.
The others loved him just as truly,
but grandmother understood the
working of his young soul and mind
in truly marvellous manner.
Grandmother, like grandfather,
was an almost inexhaustible mine of
stories. But while grandfather told
of the big things, told of stirring
epoch-making circumstances and
events, grandmother filled in the gap
by telling of the little things.
With his grandmother's help the
past of the SOS and early COS became
more real to little James than the 80's
and COS of his boyhood. AS a result
James, Sd, his whole lifelong. was to
keep his roots fresh an green in the
rich loan of his grandmother'S past.
James and Sarah Stimson's first
home was a small brick cottage, still
standing on North Second street, just
block from the wharf at which the
struggling town began. From her
kitchen windo, Sarah had been able
to watch the biweekly steamers,
loading and unloading their freight
to the haunting musical chants of the
darkey roustaboutS and taking on or
putting off motley collection of pas
sengerS-whites and blacks and In
dians.
Now, the StimsonS lived at the ex-
tremely southern edge of the town
in a long, rather narrow house. the
first James had built at the top of the
river bluff n 1871. Later the stream
of fashion turned to the north, but
the Stimsons stayed on.
For many years the mansion, as it
was called, remained the show place
of New Concord and visitors in the
town were driven out and shown its
stately exterior and spacious grounds
and, in nine cases out of ten, enter
tanned within its hospitable walls.
Though the taste of the period ran
to Mansard roofs, cupolas and fretted
balconies, James built his house on
CT, ofN1n
common native brick, which mellowed
to lovely ash rose, With huge CHM
neys at either end and a fan-Win-
dowed doorway and white pillars
facing the river. Sarah had wanted
awfully to have tower, but James
would not hear to it.
Living so far from other white
children of his own age and condi-
ton the third James Stimson's first
playmates were little colored boys.
They, with the Unborn tact of the
Negro, never said anything to dis
tress him. So James was big boy
and going to school before he found
out that he was an orphan.
Harold Meyers. the butchers son,
threw this up to him as somehow
disgraceful and sent him home crying
as if his heart would break
His grandmother and aunt had
gone that afternoon to Mrs. Jackson
Crowell's kensington, so it was Aunt
Lou who comforted him, by assuring
him vehemently that he did have a
mamma and papa, the very grandeSt
mamma and papa that ever had been
borned and no common trash like no
I,ie
papa had been so very high-toned
that the Lord God on high had Him
self sent for them to come and live |
with Him, close to His golden throne. |
Are they sitting on golden chairs?"
James asked
Setting on golden chairs and Sleep |
ing in golden beds with silken and !
velvet pillows and eating embrosial
food often golden plates stuck solid |
with emeraldS and diamonds"
Whats embrosial food, Auntie |
Lou?"
You're the pesterinst child. It's |
whut the Lord God on High and the |
angels eats. You amt supposing that |
whut you and eats is fitten for the |
Lord God on High and His angels?"
Maybe" cried James happily,
maybe it's like caramel ice cream
with marShmalloWS in it,
Aunt Lou agreed that it might be
something like caramel ice cream
and marshmallows, only a million
thousand times better.
James gave a heartfelt sigh. II
wonder" he said wistfully, whether
my mamma and papa wouldn't like to |
trritn T
should think they might get lonesome |
sometimes for their little boy"
Aunt Lou had come with Molly |
Ewing from Kentucky. Now she was
ironing James little frilled shirts and
tear fell with sizzle on the hot
iron.
Il reckon they do get lonesome,
honey" Aunt Lou sighed. It shouldn't |
wonder but whut your mamma cries |
her eyes out time and agin when the |
Lord God has His back turned. A |
corse she wouldn't let Him catch her |
anyhows but smiling after all He |
done for her. 1t twouldn't be man. |
ners."
why wouldn't it be manners,
Auntie Lou?"
We'll, dearie, when the Lord God |
set for your mamma to come and live |
with Him in Heaven she weren't |
hardly more'n a girl and so wrapped |
up in your pap she thought the sun
rose and set in him. When the angels |
tried to make her eat she explained |
she was so lonesome for your papa |
she was all choked up and couldn't |
swallow bite.
when night come and they put |