Fireside Stories for Girls in Their Teens

by Margaret W. Eggleston

The father had looked at the doctor for a moment in silence and then answered, “Well, if that is the case, I am sorry, for I cannot leave the city. My business needs me; Katherine is in college and she must be here. I shall stay.” 16

But with flashing eyes the girl had stepped to the doctor and said, “Father is mistaken, doctor. His business can do without him and there is no need at all why he should stay here for me. There is a dear little old place in the hills of New Hampshire that belongs to us, where grandfather used to live. We can go there and have all the things that you have said he must have. You may leave the matter with me. We shall be out of the city within two weeks.”

Then turning to her father she had put her arms about his neck and said, “Of course we can go, daddy, for what is college and money and friends compared with your health? Gladly will I give them up for you. We shall have a wonderful time there in the hills—just you and mother and I.”

So they had come. Then it was early in the spring and the country was beginning to show green. Into the little old farmhouse under the hill they moved. Of course there were no electric lights, and no telephones, and no faucets out of which the water could be drawn. But there were the quaint old candle holders on the big mantels; there was the fireplace so large that a log could be drawn into it; there was a well in the yard with water as cold as ice. And outside the home—oh, there were the most wonderful things to see. The trailing arbutus trailed everywhere; the lady slippers grew even in the front dooryard. The old trees in the yard were soon filled with nesting birds; the apple and pear trees in bloom were a sight never to be forgotten.

So the days fled by and the little family under the hill were so happy to see the color coming back to the face of the sick one and the smile once more on his face. Katherine loved it all—the home—the flowers—the mountains and even the quiet of the little hamlet.

Then the summer had come and with it the stream 17 of visitors who come every year to the New Hampshire mountains. Within a short distance of the home were large hotels, and the guests soon learned of the cool water in the well in front of the house; of the father who was such a pleasant companion; of the pretty girl who could sing, and climb, and play so well. So there had been picnics, and parties, and auto rides, and the summer had fled.

And when the people had gone, there were the wonderful colors in the trees, the gorgeous sunsets in the sky, the fun of the harvest time and still the life in the country was full of wonder and satisfaction.

But now—oh, now the days had begun to grow cold, the trees were bare, the birds had flown to the south, and her friends had all gone away. Here and there a family was left in the farmhouses that dotted the little, winding road but none of them were people for whom she cared. And so as the days had come and gone, there had crept into the heart of the girl a loneliness that would not be forced down, a longing that she could not stifle, a dissatisfaction that grew with the days.

How could she pass the long winter nights that were ahead? How could she stay away from the friends who were gathering at the college? How could she live without her piano? How could she keep a smile so that the dear ones at home would not see how unhappy she was becoming? The house seemed so big and bare; the trees in the yard seemed to sigh instead of sing; the way ahead seemed full of blackness. She longed for all that had gone; she longed for her friends, especially the one who had been her ideal during her college days; she longed to run back to him for always.

But on this October morning, she had risen early to keep the quiet hour before the rest were up. Usually 18 she read in the gospels, but this morning her Bible opened to the Psalms and she read, “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord who made heaven and earth.” She stopped and looked from the window at Mt. Kearsarge in the distance.