Democratic Sentinel, Volume 9, Number 21, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 June 1885 — TODD ASHTON'S JOURNEY. [ARTICLE]

TODD ASHTON'S JOURNEY.

BY CLARA DIXON DAVIDSON.

On a breezy hilltop in lowa, garrisoned on three sides by a crescent of ravine and wood, and looking out toward a level prairie on the north, the oleepy little village of Kirkville had stood still for thirty-two years, like a ■disarmed prisoner who could not fight and would not gratify his enemies by dying. Ivirkville boasted its lumbermill, its flour-mill, its well-built churches, and its commodious school' building, which was newly supplied year by year with material for future statesmen and hod-carriers; for this quiet place, with its few houses always full, this gentle rivulet of human life and interest, was a steady tributary to the great sea of work and thought and passion that lay beyond it. When the California fever or the Black Hills excitement were pulsing most hotly, the rivulet was at its flood tide, so that its contribution was proportionately small during the ebb that followed. Todd Ashton first saw the light through the small, square panes of glas-s in the old-fashioned windows of a low wooden house in Kirkville. That very house sheltered her father and mother until their silent forms were laid to rest in the populous cemetery behind the Presbyterian church, and was her home up that thirtieth birthday when our story begins. Todd was born to love and to be loved. She could no more live without loving than she could breathe without air. There were few children in the village who did not pass her gate with lingering steps, looking through the pickets with wistful eyes, longing, if the truth must be told, less for a sight of Todd’s gentle face than for the delightful germs of dyspepsia she was sure to offer them in the shape of generous wedges of fruit cake, handfuls of candy, popcorn balls, nuts, and enormous slices of white bread spread with rich preserves. There was one subject upon which Todd was very decided for so gentle a body—she would not live alone. She depended upon the love, the society, and the sympathy of her fellow beings for whatever share of happiness might flow into her soul. She needed a servant, too, so she told herself ten years ago, but the industrious people of her native village would have been scandalized had any healthy woman in vtheir borders presumed to indulge in such luxury without giving weighty reasons for such a course. Todd thought of all the cakes to be baked for “them sweet children,” of the long pieces of flannel to be sewed into Christmas offerings for the girls, of the socks and mittens to be knitted for the boys, and decided that the village prejudice must be circumvented in some way. Ho she went to Mrs. Armstrong, a widow who had lost the greater part of her property through that beneficent protection afforded by the law and the lawyers, who washed for her bread —when women were too ill to wash for themselves—and who rejoiced in the possession of eight children, and said: “Give your Mary to me. I will watch over her like a sister; I will feed her well and clothe her comfortably, and ;ahe shall have all the schoolin’ she can .get in Kirkville. ” The widow cried a little, said some “very ungrateful things about laws and lawyers, but finally consented because she saw such bountiful provision for Mary. And when Todd’s thirtieth ibirtl day had arrived Mary had been with her ten years, and had grown to be a comely, happy-hearted young woman, as good-naturedly obstinate as Todd was good-naturedly yielding. Cn that morning Mary arose two (hours earlier than she was wont to do, •and swept and dusted and scrubbed and scoured in a manner altogether incomprehensible to Todd, for more reasons than one. First, this was not sweeping day; second, it was not scrubbing day; third, Mary had insisted upon doing a totally unprecedented ■amount of cleaning on the day before!. So Todd gently remonstrated, reminding Mary that two lone women could not possibly have brought in all the dirt that she seemed to imagine herself removing. But “Mary the Obdurate” —that was the most uncivil thing Todd’s gentle tongue had ever ventured to call her, and she would havo been shocked at herself for even that unkind- . cess had her acquaintanceship with

Webster’s unabridged been less limited— Mary the Obdurate refused to hear reason, only she palliated her offense by planting on Todd’s mouth a sounding kiss that, coining as it did from rosy lips covered with the fragrant breath of exuberant health, did much to mollify whatever faint degree of wrath was kindling. But when Mary entered the sitting-room, where Todd sat crocheting a collar for some bright-eyed favorite, and rearranged the snowy curtains for the seventh time, and relaid the table-cover that was never known to be awry, and dashed her dust-brusli over chairs that had not a speck of dust anywhere on their shining surfaces, Todd suddenly awakened to the idea that something was going to happen, and lifting her eyes, that a new scrutiny of Mary’s face might help her to determine what that something was, she as suddenly discovered that Mary was arrayed in her daintiest afternoon dress. An afternoon dress at nine in the morning! That certainly meant something, so Todd began investigations immediately by inquiring: “Are you lookin’ for company ?” “Nonsense! Can’t a person be decent at home?” “Why, yes; but I always noticed that you slicked up some for Jane Beebee—she’s such a powerful hand to notice things, and tell people how white our floors are ” “And how dusty our mantels are. She may come to-day, who knows! Do let me brush your hair; and won’t you put on your drab suit ?” “My new Sunday clothes? Why Mary! What should I wear to meetin’, if I spile them with every-day wear?” “New! You call a thing new till it’s worn out. You’ve had that suit going on six years. Do wear it to-day, to please me, and I’ll make some fresh seed cakes for Bobby Wilkins; indeed, I will.” Mary emphasized her persuasions with another sounding kiss. So Todd donned the ancient but well-pre-served garments, and all this day she had not once remembered that to-day was the thirtieth anniversary of her conscious existence. By and by she looked out and exclaimed: “Of all things in the world! There is Jane Beebee, sure enough, and carrying an amazin’ big basket. Must be fetchin’ her carpet rags to sew.” Other women came Avith other baskets, and a genuine birthday surprise parly, with small gifts and a great dinner, unfolded itself to the astonished Todd. There was no one in Kirkville who had less need oi: their gifts and their dinners tlian the abundantly supplied Todd Ashfon, and perhaps that was the very reason why they were bestowed upon her; it is such a very human weakness to do as did that Master Avho gave to him that had much and took from him that had little. Mary, having been previously apprised of the village intention, determined to utilize the gathering for the furtherance of a scheme of her own —her own and Mike Nelling’s. Everybody knew that Mary and Mike hoped to be married. To be sure, Mary had not told everybody, but she had told Jane Beebee, which amounted to much the same. They were only Avaiting for a turn in the Avheel of fortune. Mike bad a team and wagon, but occasional days came Avhen there Avas neither wheat to be hauled from the station to the mill nor flour to be hauled from the mill to the station, and yet the horses went on eating and occupying rented stalls just as if their income oi hay and corn and shelter were supplied from an inexhaustible storehouse. Poor Mike fretted in a most absurd manner, and even swore a little sometimes because his accumulation of riches greAV so sloAfly, houses were so dear, and rent was so high; and the long evenings when he sat with Mary were spent in trying to plan a Avay out of the present difficulty and solve the problem of their future. Todd, of course, expected to help them, but they were not aware of her kindly intentions concerning them. Mike had at last fixed upon a scheme which, seemed to him full of hope. They must induce Todd to spend a year or two in travel. They must be married just as she was about leaving and must keep house for her Avhile she was gone. They would save the money that in a different case Avould go for rent and pay it toward a house of their own, mortgaging the house for the remainder and paying it as soon as they could possibly save enough money. This Avas their dream. But inducing Todd to “go a journeyin’ ” was no light undertaking. She seemed as strongly rooted to the spot she grew in as the elm in her dooryard, a magnificent tree which had in all probability stood still for a century. They Avere not even sure that death would take her away, but felt vague apprehensions that her specter would always move quietly about in shadowy corners of the dimly lighted house. They had fully persuaded themselves that Todd would be immensely benefited by travel; it is so easy to believe that people had best do the thing that self-interest makes us wish them to do. Todd’s health Avas not so fine as it had once been; she needed change of climate, neAv scenes and different faces to look “at. She had plenty of money; Avliy not make a tour that was what they called it—to England or Indiany, or somewhere, where did not greatly matter to the lovers so that they saved a year’s rent. So Mary interested a few friends in her project, and got their tongues duly wagging on the day of the birthday party. Todd, dear, unsuspecting soul, was greatly perplexed over the sudden interest in her welfare manifested by. her friends. She stole away from them and their importunities once during the evening, and was gone a half hour, and the happy, cheerful, food-sated company did not miss her.

Where was she ? Locked in her own room, first to turn round before her mirror and obi serve whether her figure Was in the | least diminishing, then to gaze upon the reflection of her face and note j whether its color was fading, then to ' shake her dress and observe whether ! she thoroughly filled it. “For,” she reasoned, “i must look bad or they would never be so anxious about my health. Life is so little, so empty to j me Avithout Oliver; if it must be alAvays ; without him, I care not how soon it is j over and ended. No, I do not care to go in search of health; but mebbe I could forget away from here, Avlrere every post an’ stone an’ fence-corner reminds me of the time we passed there, we so happy together; where every pew in the church makes me remember hoAv I watched for his cornin’ and thought of him iustid of the sermon, an’ how I gazed back at him when I was on my knees and should a been praying. There’s not a string on my guitar that he has not touched, nor a book on my shelves that he has not handled. I can never forget him here. Do I want to forget? Ido not know, but I will go array for a while. If I might hear from him first I could go more contentedly; if I could hear that he was dead I would be glad; better that than living and unfaithful.” And then Todd Aviped aAvuy the mist that was gathering before her eyes, and took from a bureau drawer an old “Ray’s Third Part Arithmetic,” a note scrawled in a crude, school-boyish hand, and a worn necktie. Each of these articles had its history. She loved to look at them while her mind reverted sadly and lovingly to the minutest details of that history. The necktie she had fashioned with her OAvn hands and presented to Oliver one beautiful, snow'-wrapped Christmas morning. He had said many sweet words to her when he received it, and Avhen he had lost it before her door she had kept it as a memento and reminder—as if love needed a reminder! The note had been written by him, of course, but the arithmetic was dearest of all. It spoke to her like a voice from the grave of the dead past. Five years after Oliver had started to California to seek for the wealth which he was never to find, Todd had A’isited the school one Friday afternoon to hear the children recite those wonderful rhymes that never grow old, because the babes that repeat them are never old, to listen to “essays” full of apocryphal devotion to the school and the teacher, and to hear school officers tickle the boys’ ears with stories of the great and glorious future in store for them. These masterpieces of skill and energy had nearly lulled the gentle maiden to sleep, Avhen a certain committeeman, more vehement than the rest, emphasized his remarks by bringing his fist down on the desk Avith a vigorous whack that startled her into wild wakefulness, so that she flung out her hands to catch at something and the something happened to be an old arithmetic with leaves loose and soiled, back torn and covers missing, Avhich lay in a dust-grimed corner of the window. Confused at having made herself conspicuous, she turned the loose leaves aimlessly, scarcely glancing at them, until she chanced to see Oliver’s name. What a start it gave her! It was almost like meeting bim unexpectedly.- She turned the leaves more carefully’ then, looking for the familiar doggerels that must be there if the book had indeed belonged to him; for, had she not studied with him, and was not his book penciled through with couplets that rung all sorts of changes on her name and his ? Yes, they were all there, all that had not shared the fate of the covers. She tucked the book carefully under her shaAvl, Avith a quick glance about her to make sure that no one was looking, feeling a little guilty, but determined to possess the treasure so thumbed by his thumbs. And here it was and here she was five years after, very much inclined to shed tears over it as she read: TO T. A.: I’ve wandered over the sands Of many a distant sea. And ever in my wanderings I've only thought of thee. He had never “Avandered” more than five miles from home at the time when that production, of very doubtful paternity, was written, but'these were the lines that Todd always read last before shutting the Avorn leaves against each other, and to-night she must light a little the darkness in .her patient soul by reading them once again; then she wiped her eyes carefully, returned to her guests, and made known to them her intention of “goin’ a journeyin’.” Todd easily consented to the prearrangements of Mary and Mike, and resented with all the strength of her gentle nature a hint by a meddlesome neighbor that she ought to have rent for the use of her house and belongings during her absence. So far the lovers found clear sailing. The cloud that rose on their horizon was no bigger than a Avoman’s hand, but it was large enough to obscure their happiness in a murk of dismay. Todd insisted on such an unlooked-for and uncalled-for amount of preparation that Mary said it was like piling a dozen blankets on one’s bed in July, when one had slept comfortably under only two all winter; and furthermore, she insisted in doing every stitch of the sewing with her own hands, and with as much solemnity as if she was preparing her burial clothes. There Avas no such modern invention as a sewing machine in the house, and the work progressed very slowly, with an occasional hitch when Todd was not well, or a total halt when she Avas quite ill. She never sent for a physician at such times, and if any one inquirednvhat particular ailment had got the mastery over her she always replied that “she’d been havin’ a turn with her liver,” though it

| is feared that she had but a faint notion about the locality of that much-doctored organ. Finally the arrangements were all j completed, or many thought they were, when Todd became suddenly aAvare ■ that it was too late in the year to unj dertake a journey, and when spring ; came the dresses that had been made a ; year Avere pronounced too old-fashioned i and new ones had to be purchased and ; made. In truth, Todd was secretly both hoping and dreading to hear from the lost lover before going away. A faint rumor did reach her at last; it said that he had been dead several years. She bore it quite calmly. It was easier to know him dead than to believe him unfaithful. Her old unrest gave place to a settled sadness—and she was quite ready for her year of travel. 4 She had not gone far—she was in a Chicago depot—Avhen a noisy, bustling woman entered, carrying a baby, leading a child three or four years of age, and folloAved by two older children. Turning to one of them she called out: “Jim, where’s your father? Tell him to hurry and buy the tickets before the train comes in—O, there he is — Oliver ” The rest Avas lost upon Todd. She started at the name, and gazed toward the door with a beat ng heart, as if earth and heaven together held but one Oliver. She moved toAvard him with a faint cry of recognition, for it was, indeed, her Oliver; then stood quite still, appalled by who shall say what thought? Perhaps she only then realized that the loud-talking Avoman and her numerous children had some sort of claim upon him. He came toward her with a scared look in his face, whispering to his wife: “1 guess she’s faint ng,” and lifting her into a .chair that stood near. “What of it? She’s none of ours,” said the wife; but something in her husband’s face made her go after watei when he asked her. A crowd gathered about, all anxious to do something, all filled Avith that quick gush of sympathy that makes us less ashamed of the human race. Her face greAV more and more ashen. A faintly murmured name, “Oliver,” only heard by the man who bore it, and the patient lips were silent forever. “Had cne o’ them turns with her liver,” explained Mary to the distant relative Avho took charge of all Todd’s belongings, sent Mike and Mary to shift for themselves, burned the old note and the neck-tie, wondering what Todd gave house-room to such trash for, and gave the arithmetic to an unpromising son Avho Avas wrestling with long division. Thus are the relics more sacred to us than the tombs of our saints desecrated by careless hands.— Chicago Ledger.