Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 258, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 October 1913 — The Eleventh Hour [ARTICLE]

The Eleventh Hour

Helen 'Brace stepped quickly out Into the bright June sunlight, but the golden warmth found no answering echo in her heart. A solemn stillness had fallen over the little cream stone cottage on the hill, a stillness broken only by the gentle rustle of the leaves swayed to and fro by a passing breeze, and the far-away murmur of the little stream that ran like a silver thread through the meadow. -f. . But the'beauty of the day was lost entirely on Helen Bruoe. Dr. Graham, the great eyesight specialist, had just departed from the Bruce ..cottage, and the words of the famous doctor kept ringing in her ears, with mocking Insistence. “Yes, indeed, MissBruce, 1 can restore your mother’s failing sight, but the operation will cost about $50.0.” Five hundred dollars! He might as well have asked for $5,000, for there was no possible way of obtain*lng the money that Helen could think of, and almost in despair she wandered off to the cool, dim woods in back of the house that had been her playground in her childhood, and in later years her battlefield, where she had often wrestled with the difficult problems of her school life; and now that she faced a sterner, graver problem, she turned to the friend of her childhood, with something almost like confidence stirring in her heart, and the green swaying branches, the fragrant shower of pine needles and the mystical charm that pervades the silent, majestic forest, served as an inspiration to her tired brain, and before long an idea flashed before her that seemed worth trying. One of the local papers had offered a prize of SSOO for the best article on a leading subject of the day, and Helen determined to enter the contest and compete for the prize. When the article was composed and written to her satisfaction, she mailed it to the editor, and then began the long weary days of waiting, alternating between hope and despair. But at last the day arrived when the prize winner was to be announced. The evening paper was. to contain the name of the fortunate one, and all during that long summer afternoon, Helen waited with an impatience almost tinged with despair. But even the longest day must wear away, and toward evening the postman arrived and delivered the paperthat contained the news of the contest Helen met him at the gate with her usual cheerful smile and chatted a few moments with the kindly old man, and once she laughed brightly at some Incident he was relating for her benefit Only a close observer could have noted the trembling lips and the hurried, restless movements as she eagerly reached out her hand for the paper, toying with it nervously while she talked. But at last he was gone; and Helen ran swiftly into the house and up to her own room, where she could be alope, and in the almost breatbless stillness she opened the paper to Jhe page devoted to the literary ijeqntest. Swiftly her eyes travelled down the page and rested on the large black type announcing the prize winner. The big, black letters seemed to stare mockingly back at her as she read, FIRST PRIZE AWARDED TO EDITH BLAKELY. The paper fell from her nerveless hand; she had lost For many months after the events of that memorable night seemed to be stamped indelibly on heart and memory. ‘ The heavy rose-scented air, the brooding silence, the last faint vesper hymn of the birds, the despairing echo of her own heart; every detail came back with startling vividness. Until that moment she had not realized how much she had relied on winning that prize. The next morning Helen awoke with a feeling of utter hopelessness. It was maddening to see her mother lose her sight, little by little, when a paltry SSOO would save it; and to be obliged to stand helplessly by, seemed a burden greater than she could bear. "Telegram for Miss Bruce.” Helen stared dully at the boy holding out the yellow envelope. The bitter disappointment of the preceding night seemed to have robbed her of the power of even thinking. But a glad cry broke from her lips as she read and re-read the yellow slip of paper. "Mistake made in awarding prizes; first prise awarded to Helen Bruce.” In the eventh hour she had won the victory; welcome at any time, thrice welcome now in the hour of her apparent failure. With a low sob that she vainly tried to stifle, her head drooped forward on her outstretched arms. Far off In the woods soma golden throated songster sent forth its sweet, bird-like melpdy to the unheeding worId.—GENEVIEVE MARIE BOYCE.