Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 69, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 March 1919 — HER KINDLY DEED [ARTICLE]

HER KINDLY DEED

By JESSIE ETHEL SHERWIN.

(Copyright. t»l». by Western Newspaper UfiK»n.;) , “Oli, girls—did yon ever I” The tennis group dropped bat and ball and ran to the high garden hedge and peered through it. Coming down the road, leading a sleek, comfortablelooking cow, was Raymond Worth. He had the manly stride and wholesome, healthy fact a young farmer. He was not such, but his father had been one and early rural traiuing had left its impress. He colored slightly as he noted the group beyond their leafy shelter. Their twitterings hurt and embarrassed him. He harried big steps and winced as the echo of suppressed laughter reached him, for he was oversensitive and he had mude out Celia Willis beyond the hedge. She had not joined in the ridicule, but Raymond did not know that. He sighed heavily. He wasjieither uncouth nor ignorant, but he was conscious that he did not exactly line up to the standard of the average young man of the town as to the finer social entities. Not that he was not Invited to their various gatherings, but he was plain in manner and speech; he did not “shine,” he was practical and did not enter into idle folly. His parents were dead and had left him quite an estate, but he wasted no time at the village billiard hall, visited the property he owned daily and (lid not disdain to wear his working suit and lend a helpful hand where hard work pressed. Raymond led a rather lonely life. With the exception of Mary Dorr, an old-time family servant, he had no company. She made tilings neat and comfortable, but she was now on the shady side of life and he felt the Jajck of —companionship of his own age. When he led the cow into the barn Mary came out and joined him. “Oh. dear! what a handsome, finelooking animal,” she oommentejl. It took her back to' the old times and her dimmed eyes brightened. “But why in the world did you buy her?” “I didn’t,” answered Raymond. “Mr. Lane, the farmer, is closing out. He owed me a hill and I had to take the Cow in payment.” “What are you going to do with her?” “Sell her to some other fanner.” “Yes, I guess that is best, although she’d make it seem more homelike and natural to have her around,” said Mary, longingly. “She’s n beauty, good for six quarts morning and night. But what would one do with the extra milk ? I’m getting too old to attend to all that. We’ll have some rare sweet cream over tomorrow, though.” Raymond loaded some boards into a light wagon next morning. Amongst his holdings vvfts a large tenement house in -a poor quarter of the town. A porch needed some repairs, and he planned to attend to this, get home at noon and take the cow across country to a farmer to whom he knew he could sell it. He had just completed his work on the porch when he noticed an acquaintance, a young doctor, leaving the house. “Somebody sick, Doctor Allen?" he inquired.

“More than one. Worth," came the reply, gravely, spoken. ‘‘lt’s the babies. There’s nine little ones cooped up in those dose, crowded rooms. You 'do your duty in the wuy of keeping up good sanitary conditions, and the ventilation isn't bad, but it’s the diet. Those children'are juA wasting away for the need of fresh, wholesome milk. It’s pretty near chalk and water, the second r rate stulT these people buy. But they have to. with milk doubled in price. The nine will be five before the summer is over if the babies don’t get better nourishment." Raymond stood for some moments übsorbed in deep thought. Then he went to one of the lower flats. Here lived Mrs. Wood, a widow, who supported herself by sewing. She had a son, Hardy, who was lame In one limb and who helped the family income by attending to a newspaper stand mornings. ‘‘Mrs. Wood,” spake Raymond, “you can help me out with a certain problem, and Hardy can earn a couple of dollars-n week extra. I wish to present a milch cow to the tenement for the benefit of the babies, you to take charge of milk distribution and Hardy to take care of the animal and milk her, an art I enn soon teach him.” Mother and son were enraptured with the idea. “You are bestowing a rare blessing,” said Mrs. Woods. “Miss Willis and her sewing circle do a great deal in providing clothing for the little ones, but you are bringing them life, health and happiness.” The milk undertaking brought great interest and satisfaction to Raymond. The little ones throve and the most pleasurable duty of Raymond was in providing feed and coriifort for Molly. One day Raymond, visiting Molly’s quarters, caught the echo of voices. He thrilled. Mrs; Woods was telling the story of his benefaction to Miss Willis. The latter stood caressing the placid, pleasant animal, and, noticing Raymond. extended her hand. She did not speak. Her limpid eyes met his own with a grateful glance ahd then she hurst Into tears for sheer joy and hid her face upon Molly’s sleek, velvety neck. And later she did not disdain riding home in Raymond’s truly democratic , wagon, and every time her glance met his own- he knew that each approving „ glow* of those lovely eyes was drawing them closer and closer to the portal#. at mutual, love. c