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SUNDAY. MAY 24.
“The Story of Waitstill Baxter”
''' i/h
Copyright. J 913. by^^ r KATE DOUGLAS WIGCHN
Kate Douglas Wiggin p*
Author of “Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm”
PROLOGUE.
Strength and interest of quie
lives in the New England 0..
three-quarters of a century agi
provide the framework of “Thi
Story of Waitstill Baxter. " Tha,
is the skeleton. The flesh and
blood of human beings, living
and loving and moving in a world
of their own that is a miniatun
picture of the greater world out
side, are also there. The story
is a cross section of life as seer
and described by a woman wh<
has been well called “America'i
greatest living woman novelist.'
Amid the hilts of New Englanc
are many men and women lik t
Waitstill and Patience Baxter
and their father, Ivory Boyntor,
and Me afflicted mother anc
fanny Cephas Cole, who woot
hopefully, but with small chanct
of saaoees. They find their way
into books but seldom, for it
takes a master hand to deeoribt
faithfully the doings of real
people. And that is the reason
why “The Story of Waitstill
Boater" has won highest praise
from critics who know a good
booh when they see one.
(Continued Prom Yesterday.)
r *W>, you must go bock tolhe house
®t oara, Potty, dear. Father might
■wake and call you and that would
make mattera worse. It’s beginning to
drlsele or I should stay out In the air.
Oh. I wonder If father’s mind Is going
and If this Is the beginning of the end:
If he la In his sober senses he could
not be so strange, so suspicious, so
amjust”
"He could be anything, say anything
do anything!” exclaimed Patty. "Per
haps he Is not responsible and perhaps
he Is; tt doesn’t make much difference
to ns. Come along, blessed darling:
■III tuck you In and then I'll creep back
to the house If you say I must I’ll go
down and make the kitchen fire In the
morning; you stay out here and see
what happens. A good deal will hap
pen, I'm thinking, if "father speaks to
me of yon I 1 shouldn't be surprised
to see the fur flying in all directions.
I'll seise the first moment to bring
yon out a cup of coffee and we’ll con
suit about what to do. I may tell you
now I'm all for running away I”
WaltatUl'a first burst of wretched
neaa bad subsided and she bad recov
ered her balance. “I'm afraid wo
must wait a little longer, Patty,” she
advised. "Don’t mention my name to
father, but see how he acta In the
morning. He was so wild, so unlike
himself, that I almost hope he may
forget what be said and sleep it off
Yes. we must Just wait”
“No doubt he’ll be far calmer In the
morning if he remembers that, if be
turns yon out, he faces the prospect of
three meals a day cooked by me,” said
Patty. "That’s what he thinks he
would face; but, ns a matter of fact,
I shall tell him that where you sleep
1 sleep, and where you ent 1 eat, and
when you stop cooking I stop! He
won’t part with two unpaid servants
In a hurry, not at the beginning ol
haying." And Patty, giving Waitstlll
a last hug and a dozed tearful kisses,
stole reluctantly back to the house by
the same route through which she had
left It
Patty was right. She found the fire
lighted when she went down Into the
kitchen next morning, and without a
word she hurried breakfast on to the
tiAe as fast as she could cook and
serve it Waitstlll was safe In the
bam chamber, she knew, and would
be there quietly while her/nther was
feeding the horse and milking the
cowa, or perhaps she might go up In
the woods aud wait until she saw bin.
driving away.
The deacon ate bis breakfast Id si
lence, looking and acting very much as
usual, for be was generally dumb at
meals. When he left the bouse, how
ever, and climbed luto the wagon, he
turned around and said In his ordinary
gruff manuer; "Bring the lunch up to
the field yourself today, Patience. Tell
your sister I hope she’s come to her
senses In the course of the night
You’ve got to learn, both of you, thui
my ‘say ao' must be law In this house
Yon can ftyss and you cap fume If h
amuses yon any, but ’twon’t do no
good. Don't encourage Waitstill In
any whinin’or blubberin’. .Test tell her
to come lu and go to work and I’ll
overlook wliut she done this time. And
don’t you give me any more of your
eye snappin' and lip poutin' and head
In the air imperdenee! you’re under
age, and If you don’t look out you’ll
get somethin’ that's good for wbat ails
you! You two girls jest aid an' abet
one another—that’s what you do, aid
and abet one another—an’ If you carry
It any further Til find some way o'
separatin’ you, do you hear?”
Patty spoke never a word nor flutter
ed an eyelash. She had a proper spirit,
but now her heart was cold with a
new fear, and she felt, with Waitstill.
that her father must be obeyed and his
temper kept within hounds until God
provided them a way of escape.
She ran out to the barn chamber and
not finding Waitstill, looked across tin
field and saw her coming through tin
path from the woods. Patty waved
her hand and rnn to meet her sister
Joy at the mere fact of her existence,
of being able to see her again atid oi
hearing her dear voice almost choking
her In lta intensity. Whet they rench
ed the house she helped her upstairs
as If she were a child, brought her coo
water to wash -away the dust of the
haymow, laid out some clean clothe*
for her and finally put her on tin
lounge in the darkened sitting room.
“I won’t let anybody come near the
house,” she said, “and you must have
a cup of tea and a good sleep before 1
tell you all that father said. Just com
fort yourself with the thought that hi
la going to overlook It this time. Aft
or I carry up his luncheon I shall sto;
at the store and ask Cephas to com<
out on the river bauk /or a few min
utea. Then I shall proceed to say
what I think of him for telling fa the;
where you went yesterday afternoon.
"Don’t blame Cephas!” Waitstill re
monstrated. ’’Can’t you Ree Just how
it happened? He and Uncle Bart wen
sitting in front of the shop when 1
drove by. When father came hone
and found the house empty and tin
horse not In the stall, of course he ask
ed where 1 was, and Cephas probably
eald he had seen me drive up Saco hill
He had no reason to think that thpri
was any harm in that.”
"If he had any sense be might knnv
that he shouldn't tell anything to fn
ther except whnt happens In the store,'
Patty insisted. “Were you frightened
out In the barn alone last nigbt, poo;
dear?”
“I was too unhappy to think of fear
and I was chiefly nervous about you.
all alone in the house with father.”
"I didn’t like It very much myself
I buttoned my bedroom door and sal
by the window nil night shivering and
bristling at the least sound. Every
body calls ine a coward, but I’m not
Courage Isn’t not being frightened
It’s not screeching when you are
frightened. Now, what happened at
the Boyntons?”
"Patty. Ivory's mother Is the mos!
pathetic creature I ever saw.” And
Waitstlll sat up on the sofa, her long
braids of hair hanging over her shout
ders, her pale face showing the traces
of her henry weeping. "I never pitied
any one so much in my whole life.
To go up that long, long lane; to come
upon that dreary bouse hidden away In
the trees; to feel the loneliness and the
silence and then to know that she Is
living there like a hermit thrush In a
forest without a woman to care for
her it Is heart breaking!”
"How does tbe house look—dread
ful?”
“No. Everything is as neat as wax
She Isn't ’crazy,' Patty, aa we under
stand tbe word. Her mind is be
clouded somehow, and it almost seems
as if tbe cloud might lift at any mo
ment. She goes about like somebody
In a dream, sewing or knitting or cook
lng. It Is only when she talks, and
you notice that her eyes really see
nothing, but ure looking hejODd you
that you know there Is anything
wrong.”
“If she appears so like other people
why don't the neighbors go to see be'
once in awhile?"
“Callers make her unhappy, sb<
says, and Ivory told me that he dared
not encourage any company In the
bouse for fear of exciting her and
making her an object of gossip be
■ides. He knows her ways perfect!?
and tbat she Is safe and content with
her fancies when she Is alone, which
Is seldom, after all.”
•'What does she talk abont?” aakeu
Patty.
“Her husband mostly. She 1* expect
*" blm to come back dully, We knev
THE AUGUSTA HERALD, AUGUSTA, GA.
that before, oi course, hut no one can
realize it till they see her setting the
table for him and putting a saucer of
wild strawberries by his plate, going
about the kitchen softly, like a gentle
ghost”
"It gives me the shudders!" said
Patty. "1 couldn't hear it. If she
never sees strangers, whnt in the
world did she make of you? How did
you begin?"
"I told her I had known Ivory ever
since we were school children. She
was rather strange and indifferent at
first and then she seemed to take a
fancy to me.”
“That's Queer!" said Patty, smiling
fondly and giving Waitstlll’s balr the
hasty brush of a kiss.
"She told me she hnd a girl baby,
born two or three years after Ivory,
and that she had always thought it
died when It was a few weeks old
Then suddenly she came closer to me”-
“Oh, Wnity. weren’t you terrified?”
"No, not in the least. Neither would
you have been if you hnd been there.
She put her arms round me and all at
once I understood that the poor thing
mistook me Just for a moment for her
own daughter come hack to life. It
was a sudden fancy, and 1 don't think
It lasted, hut 1 didn’t know how to
deal with it or contradict It. so 1 sim
ply tried to soothe her and let her
ease her heart by talking to me. She
said when 1 left her: ’Where is your
house? 1 hope It Is near! Do come
again and sit with me. Strength flows
Into my weakness when you hold mj
hand!' I somehow feel, Patty, that she
Deeds a woman friend even more than
a doctor. And now, whnt am 1 to do'.-
How can I forsnke'lier, and yet here is
this new difficulty with father?”
"I shouldn’t forsake her. Go there
when you can, hut he more careful
about It. You told father that you
didn’t regret whnt you hnd done, and
that when he ordered you to do un
reasonable things you should disobey
him. After all, you are not a black
slave. Father will never think of thnt
particular thing again, perhaps, any
more than he ever alluded to my driv
ing to Saco with Mrs. Day after you
had told him it was necessary for one
of ns to go there occasionally. He
knows that if he is too hard on us Dr.
Perry or Uncle Bart would take him
in hand. They would have done it
long ago If we hnd ever given any one
even a hint of what we have to endure
You will be all right because you only
want to do kind, neighborly things. 1
am the one that will always have to
suffer because I can’t prove that It’s a
Christian duty to deceive fntlier and
steal off to a dance or a frolic. Yet 1
might as well he a nun In a convent
for all the fun X get. I want a white
book muslin dress; I want a pair of
thin shoes with buckles; I wnnt a
white bat. with a wreath of yellow
roses; I want a volume of Byron’s
poems, and, ob, nobody knows—nobody
but the Lord would understand—how 1
want a string of gold beads!”
“Patty, Patty! To hear you chattel
anybody would Imagine you thought
of nothing hut frivolities. I wish you
wouldn't do yourself such injustice
Even when nobody hears you hut me.
It Is wrong.”
"Sometimes when yon think I’m talk
tag nonsense it's really the gosp.-
truth,” snld Patty. “I'm not a grand
splendid character. Waitstill, and ii
no use your deceiving yourself about
me. If you do you’ll be disappointed
"Go and parboil the beans and gel
them Into the pot. Patty. Pick up
some of the windfalls and make a
green apple pie. and I’ll be with you In
the kitchen myself before long. I nev
er expect to he disappointed in you
Patty—only continually surprised and
pleased.”
"I thought I'd begin making some
soft soap today,” said Patty mlschlev
onsly as sbe left the room. “We have
enough grease saved up. We don't
really need It yet. but It makes such
• disgusting smell thnt I’d rather like
father to have it with his dinner. It's
not much of n punishment for onr
sleepless night’’
CHAPTER XV.
A Brae* of Lovars.
HAYING was over and the close.
sticky dog days, too. and Au
gust was slipping into Hep
tember. There had been plen
ty of rain all the season, and the coun
tryside was looking as fresh and green
as an emerald. The hillsides were al
ready clothed with a verdant growth
of new grass and—
The red pennone of the cardinal flow-era
Hung motion less upon their upright staves
How they gleamed in the meadow
grasses and along the brook Hides, like
brilliant flecks of flame, giving a new
beauty to the nosegays that Wultstlll
carried or sent to Mrs. Boynton every
week.
To the eye of the casual observer
life in the two little villages by the
river's brink went on as peacefully as
ever, but there were subtle changes
taking place nevertheless. Cephas Cole
bad "asked” the second time and again
bad been refused by Patty, so that
even a very Idiot for hopefulness could
not urge bis father to put unoth<
story on the ell.
(To Be Continued Tomorrow.)
DEGREES OF FINALITY.
When a girl says no,
She may kinder grow.
But there's little hope
When a girl says '‘nope.”
And there’s not a hit
When she answers "nit.”
—Kansas City Journal.
■ " 11 1 - 8 - '■w*" l - 11 - 1 1 ""■ ■■’ '--■ ■■■' 1,111 " ■ 1 1 • —— ■' 1 ■" ■ v—m
In many ways the gentlemanly vultures of civilization
different.
But they all agree on a few things.
They are quite sure that woman ought NOT to vote.
And they are quite sure that she ought not to be
THE GUILTY MAN.
Gentleman ( In railway train) —How
did this accident happen?
Guard —Someone pulled the cord
and stopped the train, and the boat,
express ran into us. It will take five
hours to clear the line for us to go
ahead.
Gentleman —Five hours! Great
Scot! I was to be married today.
IN “REEL” LIFE
li.' . i.—... i
THE VULTURES AND—-THE WOMEN
Guard (a married man, sternly)—
Look here, are you the chap who
stopped the train? —Philadelphia Rec
ord.
r * •
JUST 80.
“Most of us dream In childhood
about having a gold crown some day.”
“Well, we eventually reach the
dentist.” —Kansas City Journal.
guaranteed agaifcst misery by laws insuring a MINIMUM
WAGE.
And they are particularly sure that nothing should in
terfere with the law of supply and demand, which give 3
plenty of nice food for vultures in business and politics.
GUARDING THEM.
The Employer—By the way, the
children usually oat with us.
The New Governess (firmly) I
must object to that.
“Why?”
“They're sure to pick up such faul
ty notions of grammar.” Cleveland
Plain Dealer.
TO WHOM HE’D GIVE IT.
"There’s a gentleman In the par-
Inr, sir,” Hald the maid.
“Did he give you Ids name. Katie?’
asked tile man of the house.
"Oh, no, sir; hut I think It’s the
one who wants to give him name to
your daughter, sir?” —Yonknrs State:'
man.
IN REAL LIFE
FIVE