Storyteller.

White Ribbon, Volume 25, Issue 293, 18 November 1919, Page 4

Storyteller.

COMRADES EVER.

CHAPTER 111

As Mrs Lewis entered her own room her eye fell upon the letter containin>4 the request th;«t she would be a candidate for Parliament. How far away seemed that happy evening when she first read and considered this let-

ter. The tierce tempest that had wrecked her life’s hopes had swept awa> all memory 01 it. Now insistently it came before her demanding an answer which she waj not yet prepared to give. Reclining upon a couch at the ojH'n window, like one of old, she voiced her thoughts in the cry, “Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?” Then through the long hours of the night she awaited the answer. She was essentially a lover of a quiet home life, a student by temperament and by training. Only the stern voice of duty had driven her into public ser vice. At first she had joined the W .C.T.I . to fight the drink evil, then her husband’s i>osition as magistrate had opened her eyes to much that needed reform in our social system. An ardent child lover, the inadequate protection which the law afforded little girls against evil men had roused her ire. and when a sexual degenerate for his third offence against little girls had received a sentence of only twelve month’s imprisonment, her indignation had driven her into the ranks of those who were protesting against this iniquitous state of affairs. Her undoubted talents marked her out for a leader. Now she wondered if the Master was calling her out into this wider sphere. Like a dash the words of the Master came into her mind, “Launch out into the deep.” And almost she seemed to hear the words of Frances Willard, “Enter every open door.” With the first grey streak of dawn her resolution was taken, she would accede to the request and allow herself to be nominated, and then leave the issue m higher hands. If elected she would loyally seive her God in Parliament, if defeated how she would rejoice to stay in her quiet home. Shortls after this a deputation waited upon Mrs Lewis tor her reply to the letter.

“Gentlemen,” she said, with quiet dignity, “It is my great desire to be of us,* to mv country. I firmly be lieve that good women in the House will l>e helpful. They can present tht

woman's point of view, which too often in the past has been overlooked. If \ou think 1 would be a useful member of the House, I am willing to submit mrself to the judgment of the electors.”

Mr (irant, a leading business man in the city assured her that the deputation thought her most suitable. “We deeply sympathise with you in your great sorrow, and pledge ourselves to do our utmost to secure your return to Parliament.”

“I want you to quite understand m\ position,” she sakl “While I am in hearty accord with the programme put forth by the Liberal Party, 1 cannot pledge myself to blindly support the leader. You all know that on the liquor question 1 hold very strong views. Should Prohibition l>e carried 1 shall support the complete enforce ment of the law. There are also several moral questions on which 1 must be free to follow mv own conscience.”

Finally it was agreed that Mrs Lewis would stand as an Independent Liberal, pledging herself to give a general sup port to the Liberal leader. She had arranged to return to Dunedin with her son after his vacation, but on her return to the Empire City she would address the electors and take her part in the campaign. Only the evening before, Will had broken a long silence with the words, “Mother, what are we to do? J cannot leave you alone.” My boy, you must continue youi course at Dunedin until you have your M.D. 1 know how hard it is, but believe me, dear, in doing your duty and fitting yourself for future service you will find your truest happiness/* “What will you do?” “I have decided to stand for Parliament. Your father wished it, and I feel as if his spirit will be near me helping me in this work. I must have hard work,” and her voice trembled. Will came across, and sitting on ihc ami of her chair, drew her close to him, and kissing her softly, he murmured tenderly, “Poor old Mum,” using the childish name which his sister, Ronnie Jean, had never discarded, and almost completely upsetting his mothei’s equilibrium. When she could tiust her voice, Mis Lewis said:

“My son. we ll both try hard to bear our cross bravely, and to do our work faithfully. I pray that you may be come a gieat healer and a blessing to mam. !”i go bad with \ou for a week or two, and then return here for

the electoral campaign. L’ncle Jack and Cousin Zeta will help me, and our dear old Nana will take every care ut me and the house.”

t his programme was earned out. Mrs Lewis spent a quiet fortnight with Will in Dunedin. The mother anil son were mates, the) shared their \oik. their hopes, and theirs orrows. Iheir hearts were very sore, but lnaveb the\ >poke of their loved and lost. Coming from an organ recital, Will said: “how our Bonnie Jean would have riveiled in that glorious music.” And once again, as they wandered through the Winter Gardens, now a mass of glowing colours, he remarked, “How Dad loved these flowers. '*

(To be Continued.)