Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 76: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

546 | “You can just say ‘ God bless Linda.’ ” “God bless Linda!” Binny pinned it securely to her memory. “Binny, darling!” The word passed Maria’s lips with a rusty creak, as she stooped down to the level of the child’s face. ‘‘ Would you mind if I kissed you?” The little arms went around the long, gaunt neck at once, and Maria pressed the hard, freckled cheek. Almost guiltily,-as if she had trespassed on another’s property, » she straightened up, and looked around. “Now, Binny, it must be nearly your dinner-time. If you'll run home and not look back once, I know where to find that bunny, and I'll tell him somethin’. There’ll be a surprise for you under this rock to- morrow. It’s asecret! Don’t tell Paddy! And, remember, don’t look around!” Binny, more controlled than Lot’s wife, made for the house. the buttercups. She pinned them firmly by the rock with a wire hairpin. seasonable perhaps, but they had come into their own appropriate resting-place among last year’s weeds, there in the sunshiny field. She took out her handkerchief, spit on it, and rubbed the last trace of rouge from her face. “There! Thines of the flesh don’t matter any more. I can grow old in peace.” Then she climbed back through the hole in the wall, and walked on down the road. v U ~ menial chores. ~ * again with Amos. Maria removed her hat and ripped off A little un- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. The wind, fanned into a fury at her back, lashed the old serge skirt tight about her boney frame. It jammed the sailor down over her eyes. But her feet seemed scarce- fy to touch the ground. She came to the soughing elm, and stopped again, and placed both hands on its rough bark. For a second, she rested a cheek there also, and looked up at the myriads of clouds now flying over its top branches. ‘““T kind of think, maybe, you aren’t all- powerful, Lord. But I know yourre all- powerful sorry all their Lindas can’t get through to them!” She looked back at the hospital on the hill. To-morrow was Easter. She tramped on again. She was released—set free from any time or place—from any round of She could live in her youth There was a singing in her heart. Her thoughts flew back to the village choir— Amos beside her, finding her hand for the first time in the shadows of the organ-loft. She felt his moist, warm palm. They looked into each other’s eyes and sang. No one was around. Timidly, in time to her downward clanking heels, she hummed—then she sang out in a cracked, thin voice—but true: “The strife is o’er, the battle done! The victory of life is won! The song of triumph has begun! Alleluia !” Le] Le} CONTRABAND MUST be mute! And, yet, your eyes, Like magnets of blue steel, Draw forth, e’en to my very lips, The words I fain would speak, Were I not forced by fate And circumstance to be—- To you—forever mute. Nancy Baker Tompkins. Eomichoo “S' (S@)