A Daughter of the Land

"Take the wings of Morning."

Kate Bates followed the narrow footpath rounding the corner of the

small country church, as the old minister raised his voice slowly

and impressively to repeat the command he had selected for his

text. Fearing that her head would be level with the windows, she

bent and walked swiftly past the church; but the words went with

her, iterating and reiterating themselves in her brain. Once she

paused to glance back toward the church, wondering what the

minister would say in expounding that text. She had a fleeting

thought of slipping in, taking the back seat and listening to the

sermon. The remembrance that she had not dressed for church

deterred her; then her face twisted grimly as she again turned to

the path, for it occurred to her that she had nothing else to wear

if she had started to attend church instead of going to see her

brother.

As usual, she had left her bed at four o'clock; for seven hours

she had cooked, washed dishes, made beds, swept, dusted, milked,

churned, following the usual routine of a big family in the

country. Then she had gone upstairs, dressed in clean gingham and

confronted her mother.

"I think I have done my share for to-day," she said. "Suppose you

call on our lady school-mistress for help with dinner. I'm going

to Adam's."

Mrs. Bates lifted her gaunt form to very close six feet of height,

looking narrowly at her daughter.

"Well, what the nation are you going to Adam's at this time a-

Sunday for?" she demanded.

"Oh, I have a curiosity to learn if there is one of the eighteen

members of this family who gives a cent what becomes of me!"

answered Kate, her eyes meeting and looking clearly into her

mother's.

"You are not letting yourself think he would 'give a cent' to send

you to that fool normal-thing, are you?"

"I am not! But it wasn't a 'fool thing' when Mary and Nancy Ellen,

and the older girls wanted to go. You even let Mary go to college

two years."

"Mary had exceptional ability," said Mrs. Bates.

"I wonder how she convinced you of it. None of the rest of us can

discover it," said Kate.

"What you need is a good strapping, Miss."

"I know it; but considering the facts that I am larger than you,

and was eighteen in September, I shouldn't advise you to attempt

it. What is the difference whether I was born in '62 or '42?

Give me the chance you gave Mary, and I'll prove to you that I can

do anything she has done, without having 'exceptional ability!'"

"The difference is that I am past sixty now. I was stout as an ox

when Mary wanted to go to school. It is your duty and your job to

stay here and do this work."