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Show j XShe TrodJar J I g Wife I M ! Mm Hl.ltlllT rap at tile outer A door drew- the ntteiitlun of the itniy haired woman, 'fume In," ho called. The diHir ii d d e n I y A n opened. A trim yoiin: wo-9 wo-9 l . man mnml at tho threah-yjPpj threah-yjPpj old. Hhe looked around J3 I and smiled and nodded. Clioi """inl morulnj." hi Buld, und her vole wa ,2.1 eleur and plensnnt. "May 1 emiiu III?" Tim elderly womnn tepped forward. for-ward. "Why. ye." fho ninwered. Take this chair. Have you walked fur?" "Only from th yIIIk. The hill In a little steep. I aiu not used to hill lately." She Biulled and nodded again. "You are wry Rood," sulil tha Btrnn-Iter. Btrnn-Iter. "I am not really so tired. It waa the denr old hnune Hint drew in In I thoiiKht I would Ilk to coin." "Our homo I nn old one," alio said, with a little alKb. "It needs many Improvement. Im-provement. Hut wa haven't th menna to mako them." . "Ho?" aald the girl with a touch of ympathy In her vole. "Perhaps there Improvement would take away the dear old home'a nicenei. You do not live almi.T-- "No, there are two of u my hue-band hue-band and I." "And the children they are away, then?" The gray haired woman turned back to the table. "We have a child a aon. He la away." The Rlrl aros quickly. "Let me tacrp you, madam." She drew off her Jacket and hung It on a hook behind the door. "Ah, you will aiio what a fine hrliiKlng up I have. I there not an apron I may wear?" The gray haired woman aralllng hen-Haled. hen-Haled. "There Isn't much to do," she atd. "And we have no money to pay for help." "Let u not talk or It." cried th Ittrl. "I am not ao very poor. You will let me atay a few daya. rerhapa you will not like me at all." The fray haired woman amlled. "I think I like you already," abe aald. The girl pinned up her aleere on her fair round arm. "Now you will tell me what to do, and while we work we will talk. You have ald something nbout your eon ha he gone far away?" The woman looked at her with troubled trou-bled eyca. "It I an unhappy atory." aald th mother. "My aon quarreled with III father. It wa about a Rlrl. Our boy hnd gone away to tho city. There wa so little for him on the farm. Ill father thought he wn wrong to go. Hut John wa ambition and there wa no chnne for him here. And one day ho cam home and snlcl be wn Rolng to marry. And It came out that the Rlrl waa foreign nnd ou the Binge. And when John father heard thin he u very angry. To hi in th theater I a wicked place. It wa In the way he wa brought up. Perhaps bo U too hurd. Anyway, be told John that the muHt give up the girl or he would disown hi in. And John la proud, too, and Ihey hnd worda nnd John went away, and slueu that day bla fa-th-r ha never spoken bl name." Bh suddenly put her apron to her eyea. "My daar, dear aon," abe sobbed. Tbe girl' fao flushed. Hhe went to the weeping mother anj touched her hand. "Don't cry," he gently aald. "Per-hnp "Per-hnp there I good new. Look at me. What do you ee?" She drew back a little and her luiiKUlnK eyes grew serious se-rious and she held up her pretty head. "A young woman; a strong and healthy and useful young woman a good young woman, believe me." The mother' wet eye atared at the girl. "Why do you tell me thla?" she aaked. The mother took a step nearer, i "You!" ahe whispered. ' "I aee you guess," cried th girl. "Yei, I am your on' wlfl" . The girl gently pushed the gray, haired woman Into a chair. I "lt nf tell It all In my own war, niadame mother. It la like thla. Join married me one two three yeari ago. Who waa I? A poor girl trylm to earn a living, niadame muther. ('I the stage, res 1 will tell you k that wa. When we came to this rnn. try my father waa a carver of W'M and atone, had a fine buineaa. The he waa killed In an accident and w were very poor, my mother and I. An4 o, because we were so poor I m for a manager and he gave me a pleoi on tbe atngo. "And so because I loved John w were mnrrled and went away, fa away Into the desert and Into tbe wis durnesa. John had the fever and then) was only me I waa doctor and nura) and all nnd, plenso (lod, he (ild rut die " Tho hnnd of the older womia mule Into the girl and held It clou. 'Then the luck changed. John I nia manager. And pretty Boon my bl, hniHiful, alwaya patient, alway Invlaj John I klsa hla mother hand k rh h, gulte rlrh." The mother arose. "My Imy la coming home," sk cried. Then her face clouded. "Hut hla father hn la so hard and unyl'ld. lug I'm nlruld he ha not forgives him." "I.eavo htm to me, madam," erlrd the girl. "Hush, I think ho I comlei. Not a word, imiilnra. Lvnvo him to me" The bent form of tho tall old nun appeared In the doorway. "Hiram," said the gray hnlred num. "I have a visitor hero. Hka will atay with ua for a day or two" The old man looked at the girl curiously. cu-riously. "You are quite welcome," he sld, " The girl bad left a bag at th itn tlon and the old man drove with kef to get It. And when he came back ah waved her band to John' Both, r on th porch and there wa one-thing one-thing more than graceful greeting In tbe gesture. "Walt, good air. If you pleaae," ski) aald to th old man before he could drive away. 'Tomorrow la Thanksgiving Thanks-giving day. May I ask a frleud to dine with me here? Tbe good uioUf r I willing." Th old man nodded. "Your friend will be welcome far your aake, little ludy," be aald, nd drove to the barn. "It goe well, madam mother," snU th girl. It certainly wa a fine Tbanknglvlsl apread. The turkoy wn the temlr est, und all It train of aecessnrf dlshe the most palatable that culkv ary art could offer. And preaentlfi when the girl had east a ft mil Rlaim at the dock and another through 1st window, th old man wa bidden III the feast. He looked at the trim young wounil Inquiringly aa he aeated himself. "You apoke of a friend," he auld. ' "Yea, air," ahe quickly answer 4 "Ho will be here. Heat yourself, madam. ma-dam. Ilnrk, he la here" The outer door suddenly opened, tall young man stepped Into the room and looked quickly about him. T a swift movement hu stopped to hit mother' aide nnd kissed her cheek, und then drew back. "John," the mother whlsperod, but her eyea were on tbe (torn face of tho old mnli. "Father," she bravely aald, "thla Ii my friend, my dearest friend will you bid hi m welcome?" The old mnn'a face wa dark, b hesltnted, hi troubled look rested oa the girl' unny face. Then he spoke, but hi voice was hoarse and scarcely audible. "Your friend Is welcome for your auke," he alowly aald. At that the young woman cried out and run around the table and put her arm about bla neck and kissed bh wrinkled cheek. "Ah, auch a Thanksgiving," ahe murmured.-vW. R. Rose, In Clereluud Plain Dealer. ' ) lj t |
