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I Would Be True
by [?]

‘Twas a beautiful day in the late fall and the roadside was lined with the late asters and goldenrod. The sun was shining so brightly and the sky was as blue as a New Hampshire sky could be, yet the girl, walking along the winding, climbing road, saw none of them. The little brook by the roadside whispered and chattered as it ran along, yet she did not hear; a few late birds still twittered to her from the trees, but she did not notice; a chipmunk called to her from a dead tree by the roadside, but she paid not the least attention. She was alone with her thoughts and they were far from pleasant.

How different it all seemed from what it had seemed six months before! Then she had stood in the office of a great doctor in Philadelphia and heard him say to her father, “Unless you leave the city at once and go where there is pure air and simple food and real quiet, there is no help for you.”

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.”

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 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.