Decatur Daily Democrat, Volume 28, Number 148, Decatur, Adams County, 23 June 1930 — Page 3

HOME TO MOTHER'S ** Eleanor E. Harris

OWN the grassy. S ? r«nllt ri.ad. »ll the ■ jo W »•>«: summer as ■ K M tcrnoon trudged ■ jn two old women, if II each carry tun » small bundle. . C M fast hold of bauds IBt'two ehlidr n HUI * *'ke chu iriey weio Interested In ii’-ouk the way Tbelr ■ (Ves '..•anted U(< i,» tall and thin, with H, uU ,ated 'Aik. Her waist was pinched, and over lur » glngbeni dress sbe wore m |K'fashioned basque of black v-.lvet. the raised flow in many places to the ■ffion tot. giving a ntotlieffect. It buttoned close K uuU ,l the neck and Hared out the waistline Jauntily. On head she wore a black crape ■p ttU rt. with a \ ell draped at c tuck of as old a period is An Inch of the partH, 0 f per gr:iv hair showed in eII r tcet were rim in shoes und her hands in lace mitts. Her bundle. in newspaper and tied K |h twine, she carried under right “ rra her ,eJ ’ ht ‘ !nK under Janey’s right ■■ jauey was squarely and solidly She had no obaervK.. wa lstHue. and her thread Hare coat. gapping between button, showed a tan-col Hred shirtwaist underneath and met at all over the stoin Her dingy black skirt was Hell above the angles that sop her body like two thick She wore men's shoes, ■at and shap le s and on her ■ead a man's cap pulled well but leaving a short fringe Hf scant white curls at the tack Hf her neck and over her ears to temples. Her bundle was Hied in a square of green cloth. Htntnlgrant fashion, und carried HJj her left hand, while the hig H|junt Angers of her toil-worn Hlght hand held Hetty’s slender Hues In a Arm grasp, and yet it Hetty who led the wav thev Bhnntd go II “He y°u sure you kin find I*., ■jetty?" 'anev nsked [■••Well, If I can't lint! my own ■louse, somethin' must be the ■patter of me.” wa» Hetty’ Bbeerful reply “I in i’! g t ■here any too soon neither Hun t know what my moth r wil. Bhlnk of me for s'avin a a- ‘O Bong. I feel guilty. 1 do that Bjin't It a plea'ant dar thou h Bo be goin’ home"'' ■ “Yes, It’s a awful rl a ant ■ay, and 1 do feel thankful >o 800. Betty, for lettln’ me come ■long. Oh. look. Betty, there's B squirrel. Look at 'im go up ■hat tree. The spry critter!" I They stood still for a minute Bnd watched the antics of ■he squirrel. He jumped from Branch to branch and leered ■own saucily at them ■ A team of heavy farm-horses ■rawing a load of hay overtook ■the pair and they retreated as Hi: as they could to the side of Whe road. I "Good afternoon sisters!” the ■river called to them “Climb ■tip and I'll give ye a lift to ■town.” I Their happy faces smiled up ■at him I “He thinks he's bein' funny, ■don’t be?" said Janey. I "1 could-a done it once, nor ■ waited to be asked!” cried Betty ■to him. I “I don’t doubt but ye could. ■ lister/' the man called hack. I"A good day to ye and many of ■ 'em.” I "He seems well spoken and Igood-wlshln’,” Janey observed. ■ ''Did you say your mother's I house was around the turn of ■ the road?” I "Yes. I did. Janey. I’ve told Iyon that something like six I times a-ready Just around the ■ turn. It’s a small house and it needs paintin', but it’s home all the same.” "Well, I’ll be glad to be glttln' there. I’m a little speck breathless.” “We can set down on this here pile of rails and rest us." Betty laid. They Bat down, first putting their bundles side by sid' on the top. “Did yon tell me your grandmother was livin’?” Janey questioned. “Yes, she's alwevs lived along of mother," said Betty. “How old is yer grandmother?” There was a sly look In Janeys eyes, and Betty cast a suspicions glance at her. "Now you think you’ve got me.” she said slowly “Come to think of It. tnehby my grandmother ain’t there but i? she’s died, none es ’em s told me about it. 1 remember her dyin’.” Bhe drew herself up a llttlo and gat kicking her small heels a o alnst the rails, looking off at the hills and scattering houses that bordered the town beyond. Janey began to untie her bundle. “I knowed we'd be hungry ’fore we got there,” she chuckled, "so I put up a hit of lunch I managed to lay hands on " while the matron wasn't lookln She's a good woman, but awful closellke with her victuals. Now. my mother was never that way. She never turned nobody from her door hungry, my mother didn’t.” « „ "Nor mv mother, neither Betty said, reaching for the sandwich Janey had "I eouldn’t get no butter, laughed Janey. "but hungers a

|Ku.rTJL Ut >m h,de ,he,r ~ ls , th *T want (o " am! V au,hed ,0 ° “Yes. let ' havin' p» l |°l her to,d m# ' h « * i win ii* O'lckon dinner today biscuits and I dunno what stared h m’ d * he ye? " Ja “«y .. v , ,n ania/ernent m# y hy ' Just ylsterday she told M J '" f '™ llfd indulgently. ’I .i' , s °» must be dreamln’." Deity shook her head, but a * ' ook had come Into her rohln . h she 81,11 *m' ed \ of he "fen or>, " K a, lt »« t0 P •ut, mehn'® B " r,,sa the r a<l- An savsrir ««•' -£° >e I," said Janev. They munched the'r dry bread , , n v r , eve 1 D 7, ,n ,he sunshine, giving Joyous little chuckles and cackles now and again They a° field*** Whlte cl “ ,< ' kenß over in My mother keeps white chick,an<l a cow," said Betty. Ue]| have real cream In our leiv or would you rather have cofTee. Janey’” “Coffee, with two fumes of supar in It," Janey decided. "My mother makes her own >utter. too. We’ll have plenty lof butter She'll not hide it like the mat-on does. I'll bet a cooky the matron has butter every meal.” "°f course she dees." Janey agreed. “I'm hopin' the lo s will *e home.” Betty observed thought fullv. ' The beys?” "Yes. my brothers — Hiram and John and Andrew and Joseph—he was always my playmate. onlv a year younger n me I could toiler him any place and | climb anywheres he cion b.” "Do von think they'll be there now’" Janeva ked. "That's what I'm hopin' " Apaln T 'e , tv r ao » a s"snl"lous plane ■ at her companion, but ’he latter smiling live thp crescen' moon with a caved In up-er lfn. was followin'- the onll cs of a sau'rrel. ns It leaped i >nm branch to branch in a tree "" r os= the road 0 T HFri automobiles went hr, and nearly everybody In hem nod led and smiled at the funnv old eotinle sitting lo e 'oecther on the pil • of rallv 'u‘ldo tbe mad "Evervbodv seems good matured today,” Janev remarked "That's because the sun shines " Betty declared "1 remember to 'his day Just how I felt once when I was Just a little mite of a girl and the sun popped out real bright one morntn'. after It had rained a whole week. It made me so happy I most cried " “Y'ou must a-been a thinkln' I child.” said Janey. regarding Betty out of misty pray e es, all set round with little fine wrinkles "I 'spose likely 1 was.” smiled Betty. “Now I wonder If I can break this here cooky in two in the middle. I saved mine las’ night aud tucked It inside my dress. There, I'll give you the biggest piece." Presently a man came by carrying a scythe “Hello, aunties! Havin' a picnic?” he called. "Yes. we be,” Janey replied “We're go'll’ on a visit home to my grandmother's,” Betty volunteered, with cheerful assurance. Janey’s eyes widened in some surprise “Indeed!" said the man. “It’s a fine day for a trio. Is it far to your grandmother’s?" “No." repliod Betty. "It ain't so very far. It's Just down the road a piece, and around a turn and down a little hill —a little house that needs paintin’, but warm and cosy and it's borne." She beamed at him. Janey beamed, too. but she gave the ms.u a slv wink that he seemed to understand, and whispered. “Her mother's.” “I guess home is where the heart is." he said, and his eyes were suspiciously bright. He began to cut the tall weeds alone the roadside with the scythe, swinging it with a great deal of energy. “We’d I etter be movln on. or ve'll not get to grandmother bv dinner-time, and we don i want to keep ’em waitin’," Betty They climbed down, look their bundles, and, hand in hand as before, started off again on their j °”Cood-by!" called the man after them. ”1 hope jou find 'em all well at home. "Thank yon! Good-by!" they cackled merrily, as they Jogged away, Petty with short, mincing steps and Janey ponderom. slats The man stopped mowlng for a f u ii minute, gazing after them, his eves still bright. ... They trudged along sturdily, though unite unevenly, because hey couldn't by any manner of means keep step together. Still, neither felt secure going It "What makes you ®tep so often’" Janey almost comPl "lt*s d my way.” Betty returned. •M was always a quick stepper, they used to say a high-stepper.

DECATUR IMiLY DEMOCRAT MONDAY, JUNE 2.*L 1930.

“Did an Indian scalp you?” Caroline ventured.

too," and she stepped faster. "It's more tiresome to walk flow than fast, and if you'd step q iti ker, Janey—" "1 can’t go on faster," Janey broke in. and anyhow I step longer n you do, so we even up, 1 guess; but it does seem a long ways to that turn in the road." "It's a long road that has no i turnin’," chuckled Betty, and on | they plodded. The mid-after-noon sun poured its radiance over them and they seemed to enjoy it. Janey said it was good for her rheumatiz and Betty , liked tbe warm feeling on her I back. It was tiresome, though, looking behind for the autos; so they wouldn't come up on you suddenly and then screech so J that you almost jumped out of | your shoes. They scrambled to one side as fast as they could, | the moment they saw oue com- [ ing. and waited until it was j once more sale to proceed "It's funny # how heavy a little bundle witb nothir' in it but a nightgown and a clean apron and a few' trinket i can git," Janey commented, and Betty agreed that it was. In one place they found the whole roadside grown up to sweet clover, and they both picked a bunch. Again they rested, this time sitting on a horse block The house back of it had the look of being 'mpty. "It takes two great ships to move my two great hips.” said Janey, still cheerfully, es she got to her feet again. Betty laughed heartily at this witticism. They hadn’t gone far when a cloud appeared, moving in the way ahead "Now, who’s that comln 7 Janey exclaimed. "Boys!” cried Betty. "No, it ain't; it's girls Well. I never!” "Don't that beat all you ever see?” cried Janey, stepping a little quicker in her excitement. "They’ve got pants on. They came along, kicking up considerable dust, a bunch of girls out on a hike, heads bobbed and batless, legs encased In knickers, socks, and sneaks, laughing, chattering, swinging along—a camp-cup at each belt and a box or bag of lunch hitched to each girl somewhere. Amazed the two old travellers stood aside, gazing, to let them pil ßut the fresh young things stopped short in the road, amazed in their turn. ’"Lo, gramas!" one greeted—she seemed to be the leader of the bunch— “you hiking, too? The old ones smiled broadly. “I’m poin’ on a visit to my -ran'mother's.” Betty explained, and Janey here — Janey lunched her. ”My mothers. I uean,” Betty corrected- and aney here is goin' with me. My nother lives Just a little ways town here, around a turn and iowEl a little hill. Mebby you come by it—a little house It is. with some white hens around in the yard and a rose-brsh near the door.” "I tbink we did pass a little house, on that other road.' said the girl leader, pointing back. I don't remember the rose-bush, Though H might .be there the hens too, I guess. needed “A little bouse that needed paintin'?" Janey asked. "Yes. I think it did. It had once been white." , "That’s it!” laughed Betty. "Your mother's house, did you say’” the girl questioned, smll'’V.rii’.ry* »• 8.U7. ".«! she’ll be wonderin’ why I don't elt there. You see. we've been trnmpln' quite a w'hile, but Janey she ain'‘ 'erg swift on her feet.

It's been a nice day for walkin’, though.” she hastened to add. seeing Janey’s look of protest. "I'll be satisfied if I git there by the time the children come home from school. I've got two little girls and a little boy. They'll be lookin' for me, too." “Betty dreams a good deal," Janey whispered loudly to one of the girls. Betty silenced her with a look. "Well, good-by,” she said, "me and Janey must hurry along. I hope you’ll have as good a dinner as we will. We're goln’ to have chicken and biscuits.” “Good-by,” laughed the girl leader. “You’ll find the little house right around the turn and down a little hill." The girls went their way, laughing back and waving their hands, and the two old women waved and smiled, though their smiles were rather weary by this time. They trudged on toward that turn In the road and at last they reached it, and could look down the little bill. They could see the roof of a house, a little house. "I’m glad to cut clear of them nutymubbles.” Betty rejoiced, as they made the turn into the narrow road. THE hill was short but rather steep, and getting down It was no easy task, but there at the bottom stood the alluring little bouse, the housa that Janey. in her inmost heart, had been afraid they wouldn't find, though Betty had seemed so sure. There It was. and the white hens were there, too. sonn of them straying out in the road. They quite forgot to look for the rose-bush, because they were so taken up at sight of a swing in front, with some children playing around It. the swing glided out over the road, but Betty said that dldn t matter, because It was a private road. Janey looked at Betty with new-born respect and confidence in her eyes. It appeared that Betty knew what she was talking about after all. Betty stepped a little quicker and Janey a little longer, and they came abreast of the huge elm-tree, to which the swingrope was fastened. Under the tree, set against the trunk and raised on some support to the proper height, was an automobile seat. They managed to get to it and to sink down upon it. "I couldn’t a-wnlked another step,” groaned Janey. “I was just about to the end of my rope, too." Betty confessed, with a little nervous giggle. Three children had already grouped themselves before the old couple—a boy of four yeayv, with chubby hands clasped oyer his ronnd stomach, and two girls of six and eight, one on each side of him. all staring with the greatest curiosity. Betty and Janey smiled, and the children smiled back, recognizing kindred souls, as children will. "Whose little boy be you? Betty asked, her voice unsteady with weariness. "Mama'B,” the boy replied. “What’s your name, dearie? "Name Buddie." “I’ve got a little boy. too, Betty told him. She reached out a delicate, crumply old hand and stroked the child’s smooth blond head. “My name’s Ruth.” volunteered the younger girl. • "Mine’s Caroline,” said the other. , .. . . “And mine's Retty and this is

Janey. I invited her to come down with me. I hope your ma ain’t had to keep the dinner waitin’ very long. Have you got your breath yet, Janey? Because. If you hare, we'd better be goin’ In.” They struggled to their feet j again, and, escorted by the children, started up the path to the ; house. The older girl ran ahead and In at the kitchen door, and | directly Mrs. Mason, a plump, brown-haired, youngish woman with kind brown eyen and cheeks j flushed from working about the kitchen fire, appeared, dusting floury fingers on her apron. She was not a little surprised at sight of the square-rigged Janey In her cutaway coat and man's cap. white bob fluttering j beneath, and the slender Betty,! with her full, flaring velvet basque and black-lace mitts, her mourning veil draped lightly over her narrow, bent shoulders; both radiantly smiling, Janey her toothless caved-in, moonllke smile, und Betty over her genteel upper and lower set. Both smiles j were slightly vague, slightly apologetic, and plainly tired. “We’ve got here at last,” said Betty, tremulous, not quite sure of her ground. “Janey, she's most tuckered out, but ’’m all right. I hope we ain’t kep' your dinner waitin'.” Mrs. Mason gasped, caught her breath, and then smiled back, putting out her hand. "Come right In,” she said. "You look tired out, .both of you.” Together they managed the wide, low doorstep, and then Betty preceded Janey through the doorway Into the kitchen, which was not as small as might have been supposed f:"m. the outside. "You're Just In time,” said Mrs. Mason cheerfully. “Caroline, you show 'em where to take off their things and wanh up a bit, and by the time they're ready your father will be here and we’ll have supper. Ruth, dear, set two more places and pull up two more chairs.” The reason Janey wore a man's cap—a soft one—was apparent when she took It off. The top of her squarish head was as smooth and shiny as one of those pale-yellow squashes that grow over, howl-shaped, and fluted aronnd the lower edge. Her fringe of white curls fluffed out distractlngly and reminded one who knew squashes of those neat fluted edges. Betty’s gray locks were quite abundant and had a natural wave in them. Darted and drawn down cunningly over the tops of her ears, they gave a lemure, Priscilla look to her face. In spite of the snug little wad at the back. They both looked very neat and clean. <<T T .'j chicken and biscuits." J Betty whispered. "Ain't yon glad now you come?” Janey nodded happily, convinced beyond a doubt that Betty was a person of family connections. “Git out your clean apron,” she reminded. The children stood helpfully near, watching with delighted curiosity and commenting politely. "Did an Indian scalp you?" Caroline ventured. Janey shook her head and her smile curved upward toward her eyes, which, oddly enough, seemed to curve down a little at the outer corners. Mr. Mason came In and washed at the kitchen sink and brushed !

his hair at the kitchen glass. In the corner of the door. He was Informed that there was company, and peeped In curiously. "What kind of birds are they?" he asked his wife. "The great auk and the- " She put her hand over his mouth. “Hush!" she whlkperod, "Can't you guess where they came from? The Poor Farm It's three miles at least, and from what I can find out the poor things have been walking all day. The old dears! They’re so funny and so—so pathetic. They're going to have their supper. Oh, Bill, do you s'poee you and I will ever get to be like that?" "Os course not,” Bill assured her. and he kissed the back of her neck, as she stooped to take a tin of biscuit out of tbe oven. “Oh, you kid!" she exclaimed. "Yon almost made me drop them." Bill smiled. "But, Dear Heart, if we should, we'll And a chimney corner with one of our children." "It’s well we can’t see too far into the future," replied Dear Heart, with a gontle sigh. "Anyhow, I’m glad we're having chicken and biaemlt* for supper tonight. It's going to be a wonderful treat for them, and If sometime, oh. in years and years— ’’ Betty was tying her white apron about her trim waist, her bundle lying open on a chair, and Janey was similarly occupied before another chair, when Bill pntered. Taking the cue from his wife, he greeted them like old friends. The simple ceremony being over, they turned back to their chain. “This Is brother Joe's picture,” Betty said, taking a small package from among a few other little thinga. “I didn't Uke to leave It, where there’s so many to pick and nose about." "It would have been very unwise,” Bill agreed. Carefully she unwound the faded ribbon that wrapped It and brought to light a small daguerreotype picture. In a case, of a boy of twenty, In the blue uniform of the Civil War. standing with his rifle In his hand, the butt resting on the ground and the fixed bayonet extending above his head. Round-cheeked and pretty he was. with a softness about the eyes that Indicated blue. “He was killed.” said Betty quietly. "He didn't never come home.” Her eyes followed the picture, as It went from hand to band, until she got It back. "Now show ’em your cross, Janey," she said, and as Janey began to fumble amon„ her things- "It's made out ts a piece of the Monitor or the Merrlmac. Janey can’t remember which Her brother made It. when he was In a hospital down South, and he made that pin, too. that she's got on her neck, with her name on it. He made It out of a bone, and the name’s cut into the bone, and the place Is filled with red sealin’ wax I’retty. ain’t It?" “The biscuits are done.” announced Mrs. Mason. "I'm goln ’ to pour the gravy over them In the tureen right now, and we'll look at the rest of your biautlful keepsakes after supper.” And so, very presently. Betty and Janey found themselves occupying chairs at the table, with Bill at the head and ths three children opposite, Buddy In his hlgh-ehair at the end nearest his mother.

"Sometimes we begin at the bottom, but this time we're going to begin at the top,” Bill said. , “Now, which of you two young ladies Is the oldest?" Betty looked at Janey. "I be; I’m eighty-seven," said Janey promptly, and It seemed almost proudly “I was forty-two my last birthday," said Betty, sitting serene and Prlscllla-llke in the highbacked chair. Janey smiled her engaging, caved -In smile, and cast a knowing look around the table. "Janey gets In first on this, It’s very evident," laughed Bill, “but Betty Is a sure second, be cause I’m only forty anl Dear Heirt Is somewhere between thirty-eight and eighteen. I never can remember exactly where,” They all laughed at this, and Buddy said "Haw! haw! haw!" 'n a funny way, and then, scared it his own temerity, laid his round cheek on his mother's arm and grinned across the table at Janey. “He thinks he’s funny when he does that.” his mother explained They had mashed potato and rad jelly and very tender green peas fixed with cream and served In saucers, and red-raspberry pie and coffee, and pink-and-whlte peppermints, and It was all on the table, so you could know just what was coming. "What part of the chicken do you prefer. Janey?" Bill wanted to kno r. as he began to serve. “Oh, any part that's agreeable to you.” Janey stammered a little over the big word and the honor of being served first. “I see —some dark and some light meat—-all right?" "Yes,” smiled Janey. "And you, Betty?" “The same as Janey, please, only—ls you see a bit of the liver—don't bother, but If It’s right where you can find It.”

I "Sure, it's right here—Dear | Heart, this chicken bad a liver, I didn't It?" "It certainly did. a big one.” I'ear Heart's big brown eyes . scanned the heaped-up platter. "I soe It!" cried Caroline excitedly, pointing—“over there by the edge." Bill pounced on the liver and transferred It to Betty's plate. "I don’t know when I’ve had a last« of chicken liver,” she said, gently apologetic. "Whose turn Is ft to get the wishbone?" Bill questioned hastily Ruth claimed It and Caroline got the heart. Dear Heart dished up the peas and passed the Jelly and pickles, and the dinner proceeded with delightful spirit. "Do you take cream and sugar In your coffee?” she asked her guests, and when th«7 said they did—“Two lumps or three?” “Only to think of It!" Jsney looked that Into Betty’s e without speaking. “Didn't I tell you real cream?’ fi®lt? whispered In Janey’s ear L,' an< l butter in plenty?” They goon lost track of how | many times the butter was ! Passed to them, or they were : ur *ed to have another helping of ! something, or their coffee-cops ! flDed again. Ilow sad that, no matter how one tries, one can : ' This Is the best cooked chicken 1 ever tasted.” Betty averred, 'and the biscuits, too." Janey nodded, her mouth full, i Having no teeth, she found It | advisable to attend pretty strictly to the business In hand, In order to keep her plate down even with the rest. She did exceedingly well, considering her limitations. Kven Betty, with plenty of teeth, had some difficulty when her plate was constantly being hwped with good things. “I dont think I eat more'n other folks, but I eat slower," she said. "We've got all the time In the i world," Rill assured them. "1 ain’t half through." “Nor I,” said his wife. "It's i better to eat slow and long. 1 try to teach the children not to swallow their food whol>.” "Mother is always very particular about that, too." said Hetty, a far-off look coming Into her ayes. She had a listening look, too. T IE little boxed-ln stairway opened down Into the small dining-room, and from where she sat she could see up Its carpeted length, by turning her head a little. She did this several times, and finally she leaned toward It and called: "Mother! Mother!” in an eager, enticing voice. A sudden hush fell on the little group around the table. Rill 1 took a drink of water and : choked, and his wife's eyes filled with tears, so that she dared not wink To them It was unutterably sad to see this aged crea- ! ture calling up tbe stairway for her mother. But little Caroline, whose soul was still a flowor-bed of imaginings, understood better. "She's making believe her mother Is up there,” she whispered. "I guess | she thinks this is her mother's house and she’s glad about it.” Janey did not permit herself to be diverted from the business of eating. She kept right on. In a moment or two Betty turned back with the remark: "1 guess she’ll come down pretty (soon. She knows it's supperi time.” She glanced at Janey. hesitated a moment, and added: "When mother comes down Janey can move along and we can fix a 1 place for her right next to me.”

j "Certainly. Os course we can,” ! Bill assented, and Betty's old I ! face beamed. I "The boys ought to he here." j ( she went on, "but they have such a long ways to drive. 1 haven’t seen 'em in a good while Hiram and John and Andrew 1 and Joseph. 1 hope they’ll i coine." "We’ll feed 'cm ls they drive in." declared Bill heartily and took another drink of water Again Betty seemed satisfied ! “Is your white hens lavin' good now?” she usked. "Oh, yeH; 1 brought tn six eggs today,” Dear Heart told her i "Betty likes white hens." Janpy informed them. “They look pretty walking, glnerally they're good layers." Betty explained her liking for white hens. While Ruth was crumbing the table and her mother was cutting the pie, Betty got up saying; "Will you excuse me Just a minute. I want to go up fairs and see if my little children are up there. They ought to come down to supper.” She trotted to the stairway, and went nimbly up. Bill calling after her that she'd better finish her own supper first, hadn't she? "I won't be gone a minute," she called back. "Oh, dons she really think her children are up there.” Dear Heart murmured, "and her mother? Docs she think this is I her house?” Janey smiled. "She’ll come hark after she's called 'em. Betty l dreams sometimes. I don't guess I they’re up there now, do you?” | Dear Heart got up hastily and

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followad to tbe stairway. Thors were three bedrooms above, opening on the ball, and Betty went to each door and looked In and canod: "Betty—little Betty — Mamie — Charlie — ” Three times. Just the same. She called softly and listened after each call—a breathless. Intent listening. "I wish they’d come, so we could play with 'em,” Ruth whispered In Caroline's car. “They can’t really come They're only 'maglnutlone.” Car. ollnu explained, whispering In return. "I wish ’maginatlons came true,” Ruth replied. Janey was busy tying reo s id white candles In the corner ’f her handkerchief, end ' Dear Heart ran out to the kltrhen and hid her fare In the roller towel for as many as ten seconds. "The dear old thing doesn’t hao ns hardly at all.” she thought. "She Just see* her mother and her children. 1 wonder oh, I wonder where thoss children are. Where are the children of all the old grandmothers and grandfathers that live at the Poor Farm?” “Dear Heart, will yon bring la some more biscuits?” Bill rallad. Betty came back downstairs "They're hidin' from me,” she explained with a little embarrassed laugh "They won't answer, but they'll soon get tired If I leave 'em alone, and they'll come down to their supper." “Turn to suppa!" shouted Ruddy, pounding on the table with his spoon, and they all j laughed again. Just as one does jat a picture show when the scene changes suddenly from Mraglc to comic. BY the time they were all through eating. It was beginning to grow dark. "My husband usually drives over to take me home, when I’ve been anywheres," Betty bsM, with an anxious glance out at the dimming road. “Mebby we'd better start along, Janey, and he can pick us up part way.” “Don't be In a hurry: stay and visit a while,” Dear Heart urged, and they were persuaded. With the guileless pleasure of children they showed the rest of their little keepsakes. "All they've got left, but memories." Dear Heart whispered to Bill. Betty lad a tea-caddy that was doubtless very old. as her great-grandfather, who was a .sea-captain, had brought It from China, and Janey had a small picture of herself, treasured from her girlhood. Her sinlle was there, curving mischievously. but It didn't cave in on the upper lip, and the top of her head gave no evidence of ness. .aXMWWI "You was some flapper, ■ Bill, complimented. “If I'd been! around in them days, and Dear Heart hadn’t—" f Janey blushed and smiled all Buddy, who found her fasclnst-j ing, and was leaning against) her knees, looking up at hen In a solemn enjoyment’’ that) amounted almost to dpturei "Did God forget your teeth?" ha questioned, and Janey giggled) showing her toothless gums the plainer

Presently Bill went out and brought his Lizzie round to the front, while Dear Heart buttoned the slender Betty into her brocaded velvet basque and the square Janey Into her cutaway coat, and gave each a package of rookies and some lumps of sugar to tie up with her bundle. "The carriage is at the door," Bill announced, and In a minute they were off. Dear Heart watching the departure with a tear In her eves and a smile on her Up, hind the children shouting cheer--1 ful good-bys. "I never rode In an ra l »r carriage." Betty raid as tbe Lizzie bumped cheerfully a'ong over the fairly smooth road "My husband always would keep good horses." "They do go nl-e," Janey agreed, "and the seat’s easy. I too " Thpy drew up to the door of the Poor Farm at nbout nine o'clock, and Bill gallantl. helped then) out and up the steps Holding hands again they sidled in. like two children who sere not quite sure whether an escapade would be condoned or punished. But the matron smiled — "Well, you’ve made a day of It" and their old fa-es brightened "Yes." said Betty with a happy sigh "We’ve been home to mother’s and seen all the folks and had a awful good visit. She keeps w hlte hPns ” "And we had chicken and biscuits.” Janev added, smiling her raved-ln, moon-llke smile over her shoulder, as the two trudged down the hall. "We’ll havo a good time tomorrow, tollin' the rest about It, | won't we, Janey?” Betty chuckled softly, when they had closed I the door on themselves. In the J little room they occupied to- | gether. Janev pulled off her cap and nodded her bald head sleepily. ©.MCClure .VfUXi pa per Jjp«Kti<ut«.