The Letter

“Did you make the debating team?”

“N-n-no. They s-s-said I w-w-wasn’t t-t-tall enough.”

 

The next morning Mrs. Massingberd set about to town in search of her daughter. She asked the baker, the postman, the butcher, and the sho keepers, but none had taken notice of her. She even asked the miners, whom nobody spoke to and the town drunk, but they all had not seen her. Mrs. Massingberd worried and fretted about the whereabouts of her daughter. When she saw a letter that had been posted on the town’s square. A few people scoffed at the letter. Mrs. Massingberd didn’t read the letter for if she had she would have seen it was written by her daughter to some one called Anonymous.

By afternoon, it had spread that Mabel was missing. By the next day, every one began searching for Mabel, searching every shrub, every alley, every lake, every corner of the town, but Mabel was not found.

“What about the wells?” inquired somebody. “Has anybody checked the wells?”

It hadn’t occurred to anybody to check the wells. Before twilight came upon them, they had checked all the wells. The last one to be inspected was on Mrs. Massingberd’s property, and when they opened the lid there they found Mabel with one of the letters from Anonymous.

Mabel had corresponded with Anonymous for while, they wrote each other with deep affection, but one day they had a little quarrel, and in a fit of fury Anonymous posted one of her letters in the town square. Saddened by this, Mabel returned home, gathered flowers from the garden, opened the lid to the well and let herself in.

The Letter

Dora had returned from Sunday School where she had been for the first time.

“What did my little daughter learn this morning?” asked her father.

“That I am a child of Satan,” was the beaming reply.

 

“Have you seen Mabel?” Mrs. Massingberd asked her neighbor.

“No, dear,” said Mrs. Byrd. “I haven’t seen Mabel. Is there anything the matter.”

“Mabel hasn’t come home,” Mrs. Massingberd said. “I sent her to town for some errands and she hasn’t been home.”

“Oh, dear,” Mrs. Byrd said. “Have you spoken with Sophie.”

Mrs. Massingberd rushed over to Sophie’s home.

“Have you seen, Mabel?” Mrs. Massingberd asked.

“No, I haven’t seen her all day, Mrs. Massingberd. I saw her walking to town, but we didn’t talk.”

“Have you seen her return from town?” Mrs. Massingberd asked hopeful.

“No, I didn’t see her return,” Sophie said.

Mrs. Massingberd went from neighbor to neighbor asking for her daughter, Mabel. She ran from house to house, person to person, inquiring any one if they had seen her daughter. But to her despair, they had all said no. It was evening time when she returned home, in hopes her daughter had returned. But her hope evaporated when her daughter never came home.