Activate Javascript or update your browser for the full Digital Library experience.
Next Page
OCR
copyright, 1909, by David 0. Cook Publismng company.
VOL. -VIII. No. '25. .t;‘;‘;L;‘;f”
DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., ELGIN, ILLINOIS, AND 36 WASHINGTON S'r., CHICAGO. ‘
June is, 1909.
By Charles 1. White
The Chance that Came to Prudence
“ 7IIO‘D ever have dreamed that
it would come about-such an
odd way too?” I‘rudence's
brown hair was pnrtiy in the warm June
sunshine. Her face was radiantly happy;
vvithal, just the least bit bewildered, for
she was still partly in the maze of this
wonderful thing which had happened.
course I heard the talk about the men
prospecting-or, whatever they call it-
in the ‘east pasture,’ but it didn’t seem
when-why, when we'd always
. Even after tcliley cqlilmpanyg
olfercd to lease the land I di nt t ink o
this-not just at first. Father spoke
about my going 0E to school last night.
I was so surprise-deI‘d never mentioned it
to him. I wonder how he knew?"
Miss Whiting hesitated a moment before
she answered her eyes bent upon a bundle
of neatly folded exercises on the desk be-
fore her.
“I had a long talk with your father
last winter, Prudence," she said at length,
still making microscopic figures on one of
the papers with her pencil. “I didn't
know but there inightdbchsome way, though
I l.h0u"llt I undcrstoo t e x.iACLll'l1StHnC(‘S-
they waere so much like my own. I'm glad
for you, dear, more glad’ than I can tell.
It seemed such a pity you shouldn't go
on! So few girls have the Lpirit ande
and inclination.” .
The teacher's head was still bent
thotiglifnlly over her desk, when the door
closed behind Prudie Andrews, and her
chased gold pencil went on sliapilng aiinless
8's and 9's and 5'5 with exacting nicety.
There wasn't a spark of insincerity in Miss
Whiting and she had i'ncnnt‘every word
she said,to Prudence, but, somehow, the re-
calling of that half-forgotten interview
with Loren Andrews made her vaguely
uncomfortable. He had looked pleased at
all she said in praise of Priidence but
Miss Whiting seeined to see again the pa-
thetic wistfulnem in his wezttlier-broiizcd
face, and she shrank from it a little.
Loren longed for his child-Miss ‘Vhiting
said so then and she said so now-but a
sigh crept out with1the‘Iadmis“si1on. Busy.
progressive practicn . iss 'iitinv was
not much given to longings, but she had
had regrets of her own, for all that. The
empty classroom was a railway coach.
whirling, whirling over endless miles. of
level prairie, and the bundle of exercises
was a yellow telegram. with a brief mes-
sage upon it which the whirling..grinding
wheels repeated over and over and over,
until her brain grew dizzy and her heart
' sick. She crime too late for words of wel-
come or farewell, to be sure, but the tiny
cottage was ‘full of s"cnt reminders of the
neglected comforts which mother had never
spoken of in her letters, but which ti
daughter's fondness might have found a
way to supply. And Loren Andrews‘
dra;iiling.“unmod'ulmed voice was ringing
in . iss 'hltings ears again:
"Course, I didn't know. You sec I'd
kind 0‘ reckoned inebbe the little girl
might feel willin’ to settle down now, so‘:
we'd have it home togethersher and me.
Miss Whiting roused herself from her
reverie with a protesting lift of her shoul-
ers. Prudence was really an exceptional
girl. The normal college would do great
things for her, and it was fortunate that
slate in paying quantities should be found
in that rocky pasture just in the nick of
' No doubt ioren Andrews had
better of Prudie‘s completing her
education, or e wouldn't have broached
the subject himself. With the money the
company would pay him, it would be easy
to hire help in the house, and Prudence
deserved to have a chance. Three others,
at least, had. said the same. They had
been teachers in the little red schoolhouse
at the crossroads, and had known Prudence
when she was younger, Apparently she
had always been what she was now,
cheerful, persevering, painstaking. A day.
out of school-a week, for the matter of
tliat-never meant ii lost lesson.
Prudence certainly deserved the little bit
of good fortune which had fallen in her
way. Loren Andrews ought to understand
that, if he was a sensible man.
Meantime, Prudence was driving home-
ward, licr spirits dancing a merry ac-
companiment to the brisk pace of the buck-
skin pnr-er. These two had grown to be
very good friends in their daily trips to
Iilainsville and back, and she talked to
in a low, cooing undertone, as she
unloosened the check nt the iron kettle
on the last hill, and patted the sleek,
arching neck.
“And you never knew this would be our
last summer over these dreadful hills, did
you, Prince? I don't believe you know
now, you stupid fellow. ‘Yell, it iseit
is. You'll be having an easy time, while
l‘rudie’s riding on street-cars or going
ti .
thought
52?
s, entrance certificate
a-foot, won't you?"
The buckskin drank unconcernedly, little
troubled, apparently, by the im-
pending change in the existing
which her father had told her a hundred
times, “didn‘t bother him half as much
as it did her." She put a new measure
of tenderness into the preparations this
particular afternoon, browning the slices
of ham and frying the potatoes to the deli-
cate crispness which were sure to call out
some word of appreciation from the head
of the table, after the snowy cloth was
laid, and the two sat opposite. She looked
her surprise now, when he was silent,
studying the rugged face attentively, and
presently falling into silence herself. Pru-
dence was beginning to realize that every
great joy is hedged in by a borderland of
sadness, whose shadows sooner or later
fall upon us, shutting out the glad sun-
light.
The remaining days of the school term
passed all too quickly. Miss Whiting had
urged. Prudcnce to plunge at once into
the one or two delinquent studies, and
try the spring examinations. A complete
from the academy
would relieve her from -all further anxiety
on that score, and a pupil was never at
her best, going into a strange place to tell
strange people what she knew. It was
severe strain, studying early and late. but
Prudence was never much afraid
“str:1iiis.” Her confidence grew, as the
first day of the examination passed, and
the second. The last one came, and Pru-
die waited an hour, after the candidates
had gone out from the afternoon session.
to get her standing. Miss Whiting looked
up from her desk at length, her pencil
poised, then made a mark on the back of
the folded sheet.
“It's a splendid record, dear, spendid.
On general principles, I don't approve of
the cramming system, but this seemed to be
an exceptional casc. Your mind will be
easy now, and you'll have the time for
other preparations you need to make.‘ I
:9
think it was worth the special effort."
it all, the social stir and inspiring atmos-
phere of a great school. The intervening -
weeks shriveled up in the tiame of her
fancy, and she was a college girl already,
with a college girl's ambitions and aspira-
tions and hopes. 1 ‘ -'
The quiet of the old tionie. nestling in
the suinnier dusk, drew Prutlence out of
her self-z-entered thoiiglits. '1‘ovi'.ser ru-
frained from his customary “'I‘lt‘lIIl‘llll;',"
bark, stretching himself lazily fi..i.i his
afternoon nap on the back punli.
tl
hazel bushes, a straw hat. bobbing altiiig in
the rear. Strangely . ", it was the
hat which fixed I’ at. -ttteiitlon,
though it was it very faniiliar tm,-ct to her.
IIadn't she hung it on its nail scores of
times, when her father's day's work out-
side was finished, and she w. s tidying the
kitchen? But to-night it had a language
of its own. It moved wearily, ii kind
of grotesque index of the bent shoulders
underneath and the tired feet. Prudence
turned to look at it again. after the buck-
skin, freed ,-from the entanglement of
straps and buckles, wasrolliiii: luxurious-
ly on the green turf. I ‘
"I oughtn’t to have been so late," she
chided herself softly, i; '
fingers Hy faster. “ I 7
every blessed day, tili--till I
a.
‘$5
it .atw;1V
again. And that will he a long time yet.‘ '
lie sha’n't wait for a meal-not a min-
Ute" '
a halt Iicftire the (melt door. grtziiig out
with thoiislitful. unwinliing eyes into the
warm, scented dusk. The veil of the years
had l'iI‘0]Ip(‘d away suddenly. and she was a
child again, chubby, 1‘ '-frocked.’ cuddling
up contciitedly in a pair of strong ‘arms.
hcr kinky, brown hair nestling against-n
bmnzevl. u .shav.-it cheek.
“Dadd,$"ll haw V. little lady to keep the-
lm o .v iin one 0' then
order of things, but I'rudence’s
words brought a sober expres-
sion to her own face. It had
not wholly disappeared when
the low, brown farmhouse came
into yiew, back by the green
slope of young grass and orchard
trees. A chance passer-by would
not have been impressed by any-
thing in the surroundings, but it
was home to Prudence, and her
eyes always brightened at the
sight of it. She leaped down
lightly, as a tall man in over-
alls came from the shed adjoin-
ing, and took the horse.by the
5
“Miss Whiting says I won't
have the least trouble with the
entrance examinations, dad!"
Prudence cried eagerly, drop-
ping her dinner-box and books
to unhook one of the traces.
“You see I've had everything
they require except one subject,
and I can make it up this sum-
mer just as easy. She talked
to you about the college long
ago, and you never said a word."
“It didn't seem any use, then," Loren
Andrews said. his face still hidden under
the brim of his straw hat. “I hadn't
realized till then how much you lotted
on goin' oti. to school, when you‘d done
here. I guess this new streak o’ luck must
have come all on your account, little girl."
Prudence was as capable with her hands
as with her head, and the supper was soon
under way. She tried to make it a par-
tial compensation for the cold dinner
..-:-. ...... .
“. I1‘ DIDN'T SEIEEI ANY USE, THEN."
Miss Whiting talked on along time after arms,“-ere
gloriously to stay liere-oi. ,.,t1 iimietstand. tiar -
that. The sun was poising
':. it--J "ti:-re seemeri L0 be
I‘ l":Il . ice behind the words.
only the chirp of
kets and the lowing of
white, heifer iii tilt )".I'.'Ll.
be ii 0
yum’ mother. little gill, '5 like
as.two peas In 11 pod."
Sometliiii; like a thin mist
always cniiie into i’rtiden(‘c's
eyes when she ti-nuzlit of the
mother she had ucv-r known.
It was like uiiw ipping a
blIIl('iI of f:"led viulI.'-, '
some fHl‘i('i4'd s-x-iit r--.
past siiinnier clinging .- wt
the brittle, crumbling petals
But her nmtherlcss childhood
had never hruuglit her a sense
of lack. Iler fatlver had borne
tlie lirunt of the, berenvciiient,
shielding her with marvelous
and vigilance from the’
hat “hips if orplninliood. The
thm ‘ c..ine to her grateful‘
if‘. ‘ 'JllSt‘ti lierselffas
sotiiitled out side. ,
t>npr,’good. lovely
‘(linging white
deck. “I'm uoinyj
above the western hilltops, when the buck- going to stay right in this hoi:..‘>, and “'1, 1‘.
skin pacer finally stretched his long neck have‘ a lovely Lint.--better that. r-- '1 :0.
toward home.
spell of her triumph, her dark eyes shin-
ing. Miss ‘Vhiting's
brought the college days very near to her. least bit auxin-vs.
There would be months and months of com- ni..ination.-I, dia you. l't'lltill!'i’
pnnioiiship with her beloved books, ‘w.v -;'L.-
teachers than she had ever had, and, viithlinutli stti-tyln’. I gins.-s."
Prudence was under the or.or anything!"
"‘Vhat‘s happeiied, little‘V;:..": luyxtn
reminiscences had Ant‘..r:ws lrmkerl bmil-lered. and the
“ IIittu‘t !'ll:. . tr ex-
lilels. me, '
A tetra 5:-. ,.
In spite of her liaste, PI'l1d4'Il('E C1llI1‘9'(0
hiltl’s i'r:‘in'--‘ill f.li,'l,..‘u out with ‘so
’ -k.
