Henderson daily dispatch., 1939-04-11
CHAPTER FOUR

"NELLYw
Eyes, Nom, I'll be up in a min
ute" Eleanor stood at the door of
the parlor in the crowded frame
house in Maple street, looking at
the familiar room.
There was the piano where she
had spent hated hours over the
scales, trying to justify the lessons
that cost twenty-five cents. There
was the crayon portrait Of grand
father Conroy that she remembered
from her babyhood. There was
Pops favorite chair by the radio
the kids had Clipped in to buy him
for Christmas present. The radio,
with it's ear phones, would never be
used again. There was the Old-fash-
Toned couch with raised head,
where she had convalesced from
the illnesses of childhood. The car
pet was worn from the scuffing of
small feet long since gone away.
It was a room that was part of
her, but standing there she could
feel no sorrow that after this week
it would be there as it was no
longer.
The heavy scent Of funeral flow
ers hung over the room. The fur
niture had been put back in the
place where Pop had lain in his last
rest.
Her mothers voice came down to
her again. "Nelly, you'd better run
down to the store and get can
of corn. Hank is very fond Of it.
IF the fresh corn isn't all gone, you
might get that"
Eleanor drew the folding doors
together. Later Hank could open
them and take what he wanted.
Anna wouldn't want any of the fur
niture.
Eleanor went out the door and
down the short walk to the side
walk and made her way to the cor
ner grocery. After tomorrow she
would never traverse that familiar
path again, never eye, with dis
taste. the morning refuse, the litter
of a shabby neighborhood. Some
thing lifted her spirit, something
that she must not let Nom know.
Poor Mom.- Eleanor felt little
pang for her mother, wondering if
she would be happy visiting Hank
and Mary. She ought to be, after
the life she had led in the frame
house. Hank had written:
There's room out here for both
you and Nom, Nelly. Mary will be
glad Of the company and the old
place has plenty of bedrooms. Don't
be afraid that Nom will have to
work. She's crazy about the kids
and she will find this real home.
You will, too, if you'd like to come.
], might be able to get you a job
with the Jackson Seed company in
their Office. It's too bad you couldn't
IEet to business college,"
TOO bad" Eleanor muttered,
|skirting stranded tricycle. in her
path. II should work in an Office
las a file clerk when I'm sitting on
top of the world" She thought hap
Ipily Of her weekly pay envelope
with two crisp ten dollar bills in it.
sometimes there was an extra five
lin it. And there would be more.
When she wrote the story Of the
odd mansion and it's ghost, Thorne
had said, There's a nice touch of
realism in this. Miss Conroy. You
fought to cultivate your descriptive
liability. Let's see any more stories
lyou have like this. We can use
some from time to time"
Some day she might be making
|forty-five dollars a week like Bes-
Isle Cahill. With that sum of money
Ishe would be rich! Own her own
car. Have an apartment with
maid to cook her dinner. Take trips
Ito New York and go to the opera
and the theater. And buy bonds.
The grocer said: Its late for
fresh corn, Miss Conroy. We may
get some in next week, but you
know, by the end of September
corn is likely to be pretty tough
around here"
Eleanor thought: TIL cook deli
.cious little suppers when / want
to have people in. Aloud she said:
IA can Of corn then, Mr.. Snyder,