When shown into the library, she took a seat in a great chair in an alcove which commanded a view of the street, and while waiting sat thinking how many times John might have sat in that place and perhaps in that very chair. Mrs. Allen came to the door, where she stood looking at Jeannette a moment or two, until she turned her head and saw her; then she stepped forward and took Jeannette's hands and stood looking her in the face.

"You are just as John said you looked; a serene and beautiful face; eyes that make even an old mule trust you." Then she put her arms about her and kissed her; and led her back to the chair in which she had been sitting.

"Mrs. Allen, I believe I would have known you anywhere. John had your nose and eyes and the same general expression. I am glad I look as John said I did. If you had shown surprise at my appearance I would have been disappointed."

"I do not understand how John could have described you so accurately. I could have picked you out among the hundreds of girls in the University.

There are many things we will never be able to understand."

Mrs. Allen did most of the talking; telling Jeannette all about John from the first hour she held him in her arms, until he died with her arms about him. They shed no tears, feeling that he was with them and wished they should be happy when together.

When Jeannette rose to go Mrs. Allen said: "No! You must remain for dinner. My husband will be home soon and he is anxious to see you. Only the other night he said: 'I am sorry John did not marry Jeannette before he died. She would be here as our daughter and we would have something to live for. It would be nice to have the young people coming to our home again; and we could find a good husband for her; such as our boy would have made. When she comes do not let her go until I see her'."

Jeannette sat down again.

A little later they heard a step in the hall; the door was opened and a man stood in the doorway. Just such a looking person as John would have been at his age, only slightly larger.

"Mary you need not introduce us. It is Jeannette. We are glad to have you in our home; would be glad to have you make it your own." He came forward as she arose and took her hand; and as he held it looking into her face his eyes slowly filled with tears.

From then until after dinner, which was almost immediately announced, the conversation was general. When they returned to the library Jeannette had to relate her past life in detail and disclose all her plans for the future. When they finally let her go it was late, and though she told them she did not mind walking home alone, they accompanied her to the dormitory.

Upon their insistent invitation she gave up her room at the dormitory and came to live with them at the beginning of the mid-winter term; remaining a welcome guest until the close of the school year in June, 1919, when she returned to Big Creek.

Mrs. Allen wrote repeatedly, addressing her as daughter; and in each letter insisted that she must return to Lexington and live with them as such. She also received a letter from Judge Allen in which he stated: "Mary and I desire formally to adopt you as our daughter." She answered: "You and Mrs. Allen have taken from life much of its loneliness and filled it with more happiness and love that I expected to be mine. When I return, if you still wish it, I will live at your home as a daughter during my remaining school year; and though I must leave you then, will always give you a daughter's love. I cannot consent to a formal adoption, which necessitates a change of name. I owe it to my parents to bear the name they gave me until I am married. Had your son lived, I have indulged the dream-like joy, that at his suggestion it would have been changed to your own."

She telegraphed when she took the train for Lexington. They drove to Winchester where they met her and taking her into their car brought her home with them. She was given John's room which was large and cheerful and was delighted with it.

Mrs. Allen made the young people of her set welcome at her home; and it was not long before all the time that Jeannette could spare from her studies was given to entertaining her friends and being entertained by them. Late in November she gave Jeannette a formal party; and it was reported in the Lexington and Louisville papers as a brilliant affair.

From then on, the old home, which had been closed to social gayety so long witnessed many entertainments; the first being a Christmas house-party of Jeannette's school friends.

She graduated with cla.s.s honors the following June. Judge Allen, in order to keep her with them, used his influence to secure a position for her as a subst.i.tute teacher in the university; and it was tendered, though she was not yet nineteen. She declined, saying: "I am too young and inexperienced for so responsible a position. They can easily find some one better fitted for the work; I must return to Big Creek to my own people; they need me."

She took leave of Judge and Mrs. Allen, who were as a father and mother; gave up a luxurious home, agreeable society, the a.s.sociation with educated people; refused a position of some honor, with a salary of fifteen hundred dollars a year; and returned to Big Creek; where the only human ties were the hill-side graves; where she had no personal friends, only the old mule, the birds, her mountain, the creek, Big Rock and her books.

At a salary of fifty dollars a month she resumed teaching the Big Creek school. There were thirty-three, boys and girls of all sizes; she had to mother some, to whip others, to use diplomacy with those too big to whip; she had to teach them manners and religion; the girls to sew and read and write; the boys to respect their mothers and their sisters; to leave moonshine alone; to quit swearing and "chawing" tobacco; to inject ambition into them-make them understand that the "big man" was not he who could drink the most moonshine and spit the furthest. It required no study on her part to teach them; that is the book part, as they were intelligent. The mental strain was to manage them, to improve their manners and morals, in the face of adverse home influence in many instances-this required much patience; and once when very severely tried, she murmured: "What would Job have done today?"

The Blairs still occupied her house; and she boarded with them, walking two miles to the school house, except when the creek was up when she rode the old mule. Her world had suddenly narrowed to the two miles of creek valley; her companions were the Blairs, the children and her books; life had grown lonely and serious. She still heard voices, but they were sad; what they told she wrote into story and verse. These stories and verses she mailed to the editors of the magazines she read.

They were all returned with printed declarations: "The editor regrets that the enclosed ma.n.u.script is not available for publication, etc., etc."

She would then read the verse and stories published by the periodicals which had rejected her productions; and being satisfied that hers were equal in thought and literary merit, despite the rejections, persevered in her attempts, acc.u.mulating quite a collection of rejected ma.n.u.scripts.

Last week's mail had brought back two poems, which scanned perfectly and which she thought quite satisfactory. She had called them-"A Questionnaire," and "Other Little Boats." At the foot of the printed rejection slip the reader had scribbled in an almost illegible hand: "Why not select a more cheerful subject and adopt a jazzier style-we of today would reject Milton's Paradise Lost. M. A." Bearing this criticism in mind, she wrote and forwarded "A Genealogy" and it was accepted.

These three poems are reproduced in order that the reader may himself judge of their merit; and because to a certain extent they convey an idea of Jeannette's mental state at the time.

A Questionnaire.

I.

Why was not room made for thy mother in the inn?

Why wert thou manger-cradled, Lord? Could not heirship From Israel's greatest king procure for her Who bore thee, more than a pallet of straw in a stall; And for thee a cradle of fine linen and soft down?

Why did not an angel whisper: "Blest inn-keeper, Give thy best, this is Christ, Son of the Living Lord?

Is the world to know only its own? Thankless man, Never to practice thy teaching; or see thy star?

Is he waiting for signs and wonders; believing Battalions of angels will compel him to worship?

Thy birth-night, did not the heavens declare thy glory?

Did not an angel choir sing thy cradle hymn?

Yet to man thou remainest the carpenter's son; Though the wise of earth waited-and prophets foretold; Lauding Bethlehem of Judah as thy birthplace.

"And thou Bethlehem, Land of Judah, Art in no wise least among the princes of Judah, For out of thee shall come forth a ruler, Who shall be shepherd of thy people Israel."

II.

Are only common people, p.a.w.ns of life, shepherds, Who abide in the fields and keep watch day and night, To see thy angel herald and hear his evangel: "Behold I bring to you good tiding of great joy, For unto you is born a saviour-Jesus the Lord?"

Do only dreamy shepherds like the Maid of France, See and hear thy choir as it sings: "Glory to G.o.d, Exalted One-on earth peace, good will towards men?"

Do only the old and feeble, living in the past, Or waiting for the consolation of Israel, Like Simeon; cling to life until they see the Lord?

Do only the lonely Annas, eighty years widowed, Know thy face because of their fasting and prayers?

When will we who delve for gold, lift our eyes skyward; And seeing the star, worshipfully come and give; Remembering thou didst come and give-as prophets sang: "And thou Bethlehem, Land of Judah, Art in no wise least among the princes of Judah, For out of thee shall come forth a ruler, Who shall be shepherd of thy people Israel."

III.

Is thy epiphany known only to wise men, Living near the morning sun?-Those who saw thy star And followed as it led, came to worship, saying: "Israel, where is the One born king of the Jews?"

Are only those who are led by an angel or a star, To know and worship thee? While we, though thou art here, In our own town, to be our guest and bear our sins; Refuse to take thee in; saying: "There is no room."

Will but the few, the wise and great, coming a long way, Find thee-having found, worship-having worshipped, Give treasured gold, frankincense and myrrh; while we, When thou knockest at the door of our dwelling, Tenanted by false G.o.ds, say: There is no room here; We entertain more appropriate guests, old friends; Go to the public khan; there you will find shelter, A stall, a manger and a little straw-Yet the prophets sang: "And thou Bethlehem, Land of Judah, Art in no wise least among the princes of Judah, For out of thee shall come forth a ruler, Who shall be shepherd of thy people Israel."

IV.

As Herod the King, not loving thy appearing, Shall we, when Magi tell us thou hast come, decree A ma.s.sacre of babes; and in blind and willful Destruction, mark our mad way with the red blossoms Of martyrdom; until Rama is a land of tears And Rachel unconsoled weeps for her children?

Since it was not G.o.d's will that the babe should perish, The foster-father a dreamer, was angel-warned; "Hearken! Arise! take the young child and his mother; Flee to Egypt and remain until I bring word; At Herod's death return." Thus the child escaped.

Not so the man, whose mission was death in my place.

Though he went about doing good, teaching and healing; I followed to betray; and after his arrest, Cried: "Give us Barabbas! Crucify him! Crucify!"

He died for his sheep, deserted, though prophets sang: "And thou Bethlehem, Land of Judah, Art in no wise least among the princes of Judah, For out of thee shall come forth a ruler, Who shall be shepherd of thy people Israel."

Other Little Boats.

I.

For His chosen of the land of Canaan, G.o.d made six seas; But low-lying Galilee, skirted by oleander trees, Resting in the bosom-reflecting the emerald hills Of Gennesareth, Valley of Abundance, was G.o.d's gift To His son; the place to begin his ministry to men.

II.

Capernaum, on the western sh.o.r.e, where loved to rest Desert-dried camel drivers, traveling to Damascus; Was to the Messiah, nearest home, the place loved best.

These homeless wanderers, by sweet visions were elated, Charmed by music of the sea, G.o.d had consecrated.

III.