Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/159

THE TAPESTRY OF PENELOPE in those days; they took them. But, scared though she was, she kept them all at bay, playing one against the other by promising to choose one of them as soon as a tapestry she was weaving for her husband's shroud was finished. But, at night, she ripped out what she had woven by day, so that it took a long time—and then Ulysses, who had not been killed, returned, as she had hoped and prayed he would, and all ended happily for her."

"Well," I says, "that's a nice story. But what's the answer?"

"I am Penelope, daddy, dear," she says, "and this is the tapestry."

She holds up the bundle she'd brought home.

"I've got a grudging permission to weave my own shroud, because there's none ready made about here, for—"

She sighs hard and long.

"And I am going to make it last long, long, long, hoping and praying that before it is done my Ulysses may return and save me, and make a happy ending." 143