Copyright, 1907, by David C.
if , To. § PUBLISHED
Vor. VI. No, 20.0 4S RNM
DAVID C. COOK PUBLISHING CO., Etcry, ILLiNoIs, AND 86 Wasnrncron Sv., Curcaaco.
July 20, 1907.
IIE view from the little, four-paned
| window, out down the lane and
across the meadow and over. the
cornfield—brown~ from the early spring
plowing—was really pretty. But Julia
McGath’s black eyes saw no beauty, partly
because the scene seemed familiar, but
more because she was in no mood to appre-
ciate the beauties of Nature.
For sixteen years Julia had looked out
from tiny windows on lanes and_ fields.
She had grown sun-browned in the fields.
Of course these fields were just like all the
other fields the McGaths had toiled over in
their itinerent farming. Although the
scene was new, it seemed familiar. They
were only going to “crop” for Squire
Donnelson this year—that was not much
of a change. The things already looked
very much at home-in the little house at
the end of the meadow lane.
As Julia stood looking moodily out of
the window, suddenly her eyes widened and
she leaned eagerly forward. Who was
that? Julia knew at once, although she
had never seen: Llaiine Donnelson. — Little
Charlie had said only that morning that
the young lady who lived over in the brick
house had a pretty little bay pony that she
rode a great deal.
“Tt’s her,” said Julia to herself, “and
she’s coming here. All I wished was she'd
let us alone
Julia said nothing to her mother as she
saw the girl dismount and tie her pony,
but she laughed dryly to herself as she
stole out the back way down to the meadow
branch that flowed from the spring back
of the house.
“She can leave her card! I’m not at
home!” she said, as she followed its rip-
“Where.on earth have you been?” asked
her mother when Julia returned about
dusk, with a great ball of clean whitewash
mud. “Mr Donnelson’s daughter has
been here all the evening.”
“What did she come for?” asked Julia,
in an uninterested tone. .
“Why to see us, I ckon,” said
her mother... “I wish you hadn’t been
ramblin’ off for mud. She's a pretty girl
and has nice ways.”
“There’s alot of nice
branch,” said Julia. “Um
wash the overhead | of my
awfully smoked up.”
“She said for you to come and see her,’
continued the mother. “I want you to fix
up some’day and go, Julia. . [wish you
could be more with folks that haye nice
ways. And she'd show you her nice things.
She just looks like a girl that has a lot of
A great wave of anger swept over Julia
and reddened her dark face and neck.
“Well, IH never go!” she replied,
“What possesses you, Julia?” said her
mother, in an aggrieved tone. “The girl
has never done you any harm.”
“Ma,” said Julia, straightening her slim
go peepin’’ in somewheres they was eatin’
turkey an’ mince pie an’ sauce, would
. “ Perishiu’ !
mud down the
going to white-
room. It’s so
It was the mother’s turn
if you was perishin’, you'd like to}
WHEN ee SUN. SHONE AT lige *
to take offense. “ Julia McGath, you never
lacked for .anythin’ to eat in your life.
We're poor, but we’ve always had plenty
to eat, an’ I believe we would be happy
if it wasn’t for your high notions. I don’t
know where you get your notions. I never
had such notions when I was a girl.”
“J wish I was just like you, ma,
Julia, “but maybe I’m like pa would ‘a’
been if he had been a girl.”
“You had a good father, Julia; an hon-
est, hard-workin’ man. It’s not becomin’
in you to speak that way now he’s dead an’
Julia set her lips firmly. and began
silently to get the supper ready by. the
time the boys should come in from work.
The angry color faded out of her face
and she became calmer as she went through
the familiar routine. But a firm deter-
mination had taken possession of her to
have nothing to do with their landlord's
daughter—the girl of her own age over in
the brick house—the girl who had things.
“T don’t hate her; no, I don’t hate her!
I just want her to’ let me alone—it’s, all
I ask of her!” she repeated,
seemed possessed of a different
spirit, but one that was quite
as persistent. A girl of ler
own age had never lived at
the meadow-lane house before.
But the idea of a girl who had
things being lonely, even when
the. farmhouses were miles
apart, was one that had never
occurred to Julia MceGath.
The bay pony and its rider
came often down the lane, but
quite as often Julia was’ not
“J don’t hate her, but I
will pretty soon if she doesn’t
quit coming here!” said Julia
to herself. one day. “ Why
won't she let me alone?”
It was now early summer,
and the girl in the brick house
had never seen the face of the
black-eyed girl who lived in
the meadow-lane house.
“Tsn’t it strange that she
is always away when I- go!”
said Ilaline one day.’ “ She
must be as lonely as I am, and
yet she doesn’t seem to want
me to go to see her. If there
was another girl for me to
visit this side of Banton, I
believe I would just leaye her
One day Mrs. MeGath and
her son IIenry drove to town
in the spring wagon, and
Haline resolved to make a last
desperate attempt> at socia-
bility with Julia.
“T£ she’s ever going to be at home I
guess she will be to-day when her mother
is gone. I will just take a little gallop
| down that way. Beauty is getting too lazy
But Julia had had premonitions. After
getting herself and’ Charlie’ some dinner,
she locked. the doors, and, arming herself
with a large, old, brownish-black umbrella,
strolled out into the sunshine. It was only
hot to Julia—not bright. In fact nothing
had seemed bright since she had come to
Squire Donnelson’s farm.
At the foot of the zigzag path leading out
to the lane, she stood, hesitating which way
to take in her moody flight, when, oh, dear!
that nightmare of a bay pony came canter-
ing up behind her. Julia turned abruptly
and found herself almost face to face with
“YT hate her now!” said Julia, with set
teeth. “She knows I want her ¢ me
alone! She shall never see my face!”
Then, quick as a flash, up went the old
umbrella. ler slim figure was almost hid-
den behind it.
There was a low scream and sound of
trampling hoofs. Julia dropped the open
umbrella, and the ‘same breeze that sent it
zigzagging up the lane seemed to be blow-
ing the rider over her pony’s head.
Julia seemed whirled and dizzy herself.
Then the other girl was lying almost at her
feet, and the pony, after a brief scamper,
was beginning to pick grass up the lane.
“Oh, I’ve killed her!” cried Julia. “ And
I didn’t hate her! Lord, I didn’t hate
her!” Then she made a dash for the locked
door and,threw it open. Jlow she was to
get the unconscious girl as large as herself
inside she did not consider. She just picked
her up and carried her in and laid her on
her own bed.
* “God, if you won't let her ‘die!’ she
“But don’t run it too fast;
been a pet.
There seemed nothing more for Julia
to do but go back and keep watch over
her patient until the doctor should come.
“T ought to go over and tell her folks!
But I can't do it! T-ean’t do it! They'd
never understand how ’twas.”
Far from being killed, the patient was
looking about the room with
blue eyes when Julia crept back to the bed-
“Tlow do you do?” said the girl from
the bed. “I have been to see you several
times when you were not at home, but
somehow I don’t remember coming. this
time. How did I get here now? You are
just about my age, aren’t you?”
“T done it,” said Julia. “I didn’t hate
you, but I wanted you to let me alone.’ I
didn’t want you to know who I was. I
‘just put up the umbrella so’s you couldn't
see my face. I didn’t scare your -pony on
purpose, I’m not that mean.”
“Why didn’t you want me to know who
you were?” asked the girl.
“Oh, just because!” said Julia, very
much confused. “ Twasn’t nothing you’d
“T don’t understand,” said Ilaline.
“Nobody don’t. Ma don’t,” said Julia,
ting out erying. ‘“ She wanted me to
you because you had nice ways and
nice things. She said I had high notions,
but.I didn’t. want. to see your things
cause I was afraid I’d hate
QUICK AS A FLASILT UP WENT TIE OLD UMBRELLA,
whispered, “I will never act like a fool
again! I never will! Amen!”
Then she went out and called Charlie,
who was fishing in the meadow branch.
“Tt’s throwed her,” she explained, point-
ing to the pony, as the boy came reluct-
antly from his play. “ She’s here on my
bed. Get on it and go for Dr. Holtam.
Go!” she commanded, as Charlie hesitated.
you. I .was just an awful
big goose!” she said, drying
her eyes resolutely. “I don’t
care now! I’m so glad be-
cause you weren’t killed.- Do
you think your arms or legs
or anything was broke?””™
The patient drew her feet
up nimbly in bed, then she
stretched out her arms. “I
don’t think there is anything
broken. about me,” she’ said.
“T wonder where that foolish
Beauty is? “I could ride
for the doctor,” said Julia.
“T told him not to go too
“Oh, I don’t. need the doe-
tor! .It was just a little tum-
ble!” laughed Ilaline, “ but
I guess mamma _ would -be
scared if she knew.”
“What will your ma think of
me? I'm not as mean as she
will think I am—I’m not! I’m
“That's a secret between
you and me,” said the girl in
the bed. “ Nobody will ever
know but that foolish Beauty
just tossed me off for fun. He
did once when he was right
“would you. keep - it for a
secret? It would be awful
mean in me to Jet you do it.
I never did have a secret with
anybody. I always just had
to keep things to myself. Seemed like
nobody could understand ’sides me!”
Ifaline laughed. ‘‘ You didn’t want. me
to come to see you,” she said, “ because you
didn’t understand how an only daughter
who is just sick of things could be hungry
for another girl. _I never was so glad as
when father told me a girl about my age
was coming to live on our farm.” ~ _ .
“Charlie has gone on him
Julia burst out crying again. :