Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 289, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 December 1912 — THE FLOWERING OF VENGEANCE. [ARTICLE]

THE FLOWERING OF VENGEANCE.

Amelia Anderson’s linen-chest was filled and her wedding gown was bought when Jim Parker’s letter came. “Forgive me, Milly,” it ran, “dr forget me, anyway. I am married to Polly.” Amelia tore the letter 5 s Lowly into bits, while her mother stood and wrung her hands. She did no; heed either Injunction. She neitnei puzzled. It was sorry for Amelia, but she flung back pity in the faces of those who offered it. She tilted her chin defiantly as she walked the street, the target of curious eyes; and in courae of time the tide of sympathy turned. It was much more comfortable to sympathize with Polly, who w r ent about shedding tears of contrition and saying she knew it was awfiil f .but she and Jim loved each other so. And when the baby came the young father and mother had the good' wishes of the entire-community, while -the wronged Amelia, in her proud loneliness, scorned the world’s injustice as she had scorned its pity. She grew silent and forbidding, and kept much to herself. When hat* cousin Ezra died and she took his'Boy, the neighborhood drew u breath of relief; not so much that the little orphan had found a haven, as for Amelia’s sake. The boy Richard had little of his father in him, though he had inherited his mother’s beauty. He was big uml--arniig,—with brown eyes that aiways laughed, and dark curls of which he chose to be ashamed. In the village school he looked like some rare tropical plant growing in a field of daisies. Jim’s daughter, Elizabeth, shy, sweet and shrinking as hbr mother had been, watched him with fond admiration over the top of her spelling book. When Richard was 20 and Elizabeth 18 the young people were looked upon as lovers by the whole community. Nothing had been said, but Dick’s handsome face was aglow with adoration when the girl came in view, and Elizabeth’s downcast eyes were more eloquent than even her ahyglkUbeS. Amelia had bided her time. Now the moment had come for speaking. “Dick,” she said one day, “I’m afraid that Elizabeth Parker’s getting to think a great deal of you.” The boy turned his face away, flushing to the roots of his hair.

His strong body.trembled; a sacred confidence was on his lips. Amelia saw it and spoke on quickly. “I want you to stop going there.” He had begun with a laugh, but at the close his voice had taken on an almost terrified appeal. He put his hand on hers, but Amelia shrank back from his touch. "Dick, it’s 12 years since I took you from the home where your father lay dead. I haven’t ever thrown up at you what you owed me, but now 1 ask you to 'Ttemgniber it. I paid all expenses and his doctor’s,bills. I had to get you a jiew suit, so you could be fit to go to the funeral.” Again he tried to take her hand and again she drew it away. “I’ve never asked you to sacrifice anything for me. I wouldn’t even let\ you stay away from a party 1 • was sick. Now I ask you to do, one thing in return for 12 sacrifices. Will you give up that girl ?’ “Aunt Amelia, if you put it that way I guess you have a right to ask me anything you like —my life if you wanted it. I wish you had!” he cried, his voice breaking. “O, you’ll soon get over feeling that way,” said Arne lia, and he wondered at her cruelty, not knowing that her bitterness was mot for him but for the faithless lover of her .bygone youth. “Aunt Amelia,” he said, standing very straight before her, “I’m going away.” She took hold of her chair to steady hersdlf, trying vaguely to realize what a life without Richard could mean. Amelia Anderson arose and put away her knitting. She folded the gingham apron she wore And laid it carefully aside. Then she came and touched Richard lightly on his shoul der. “I’m going out a little,” she said. "Promise me you won’t do anything till I come back." Apparently, Richard had not stirred since she left him. “Here, Dick,” said Amelia, patting the brown head, “I’ve brought home company to supper. Suppose you folks step into the next room and talk things over while I stir up something.” She waited till the door closed upon the two, and then dropping into her armchair, she sobbed for very joy. The bitterness for 20 years was gone, and in its place was a strange new happiness.

Later, when she was slipping her biscuits Into the oven, she smiled over a new idea that had flashed upon her. “I guess I’ve got even with Polly Parker at last. She stole Jim from me, and now I’ll steal her daughter, for, of course, they’ll live wiflP’tae? 1 ’ The thought of happiness swept over her like a wave, drowning the last reipnant of bitterness In her heart. Amelia’? vengeance, watched and cherished for so long, had con&e to blossoming and had flowered into forgiveness.—EDLA BYLIN. Professor George E. Palmer of Harvard University in a recent lecture ■aid In substance: “The scientific world skiing to Darwinism and then swung back; the religious world swung over to the scientific posits Md is awlndag back.” .