The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1874-03-05
A Mans Temptationl !

John Osgood let down the bars fol
the tired oxen, which he had beer
pIowing all day, to go through them
and seek on the. cool hillside theil
/ night's pastUrage- They turned their
heads and looked at him, with theil
mournful eyes, rs II, expecting word
for they were used to his voice, the
slow, patient creatures, and liked it
as such dumb brutes always do the
voice of kind master. But tonight
he had no voice for them. He put up
the bars again when they had COME
through, and leaned heavily against
them.
A May sunset was flushing earth and
sky. The new spEinging grass looked
fresh and green. A light feathery
LEAKAGE was on all the trees, and few
Of the pear and cherry trees had put
on white blossoms. The western sky
was piled high with crimson clouds,
with, close to the horizon, a bar Of
gold. "A reflected brightness flushed
the earth with q soft roseate hue
which spread mp to the zenith All
was stiIl as the birth of a new world.
A sense of wonderful beauty thrilled
through John Osgood's nneducated
perceptions, He had no words for
such a scene, no clearly defined
thoughts about it even, but it moisten-
ed his eyes and quickened his pulses,
and seemed to flood his life with rush
of dreams and longings.
How beautiful the world WAS
There were some men, he had heard,
who painted such scenes as this, others
who wrote poetry about them, others
who set them to music, like the songs
of birds or the wash of waves. What
was his part of all this Flowing to-
day-planting tomorrow Was that
all life held for him There must be
some other use, some other meaning,
If he co1ld only grasp it. IL he had
no part or lot in all this beauty why
did it moye him so
just then he heard the sound of
horses feet, and looked in the direc-
ton from whence it came.
Angeline Wilmarth was sweeping
down the hill with gay gallant be-
side her. How like part of the sun
set beauty she looked, with its rose
upon her cheek, its radiance in her
eyes and hair, her long blue habit
falling low and swinging to the mo-
ton of her cream col0red horse, her
white feather streaming on the wind,
her little hands with the dainty gaunt-
lets on them, so much youth, and
grace and beauty. And the city chap
as John Osgood called him, did not
mar the picture. A handsome. cava-
Herish looking man, there was no de-
nying that he showed well beside An
gle, but what was he here so much
for? They swept by, Angles low,
silYery laugh tinkling a response to
something her companion was saying,
and little cloud of dust which the
horser, hoofs beat up behind them
filed Johns eyes and choked his
throat, and added bitterness to his
mood.
He glanced down at his hard, horny
hands, his coarse, soiled clothes. How
we'll he would look at Angeline Will
marth's side. And yet he had loved
her in q vague sort of way, whose
meaning he had just what he was, 3
farmer. Then the question came
again which had haunted him before
could he be nothing else Did He
doom him2 Did God ask him always
to 90 in and out of these old ways
ploW and plant, and make hay and
reap grain all the summer, and go
back and forth between the old home
stead and the wood lot, all the winter
Some one could be found to do as well
for him, and he, he believed, had
enough in him to go away and make
career which Angeline would not
Bcorn to share.
The crimson had died out of the
west, the rose hue out of the east. A
lew wind had arisen, and blew mourn
fully and slowly across the fields
John Oegood's mood changed with
the face of the night. The exultation
forsook him and something hard,
stern, sullen and alien 1t seemed to his
generous hearty nature, entered in
and took possession of him. He went
home with heavy footsteps.
ssTired, Johnny 2" his mother said
cheerfnIly, as he came into the kitch-
en-.
Somehow the words vexed him.
She had said that often enough before
but they had never struck just in this
way till now. johnny If she would
only remember that he was twenty
two years old.
"Yes, I'm tired" he answered dog
gedly.
eWell, draw right up to the table.
I've got nice cup of tea all ready for
ye. Thatll rest ye and brighten ye up
little"
aMother," said he, with bitterness
for which he hated himself for years
afterwards. 81 wonder if you ever
had q trouble that q good cup of tea
would not cure? Things don't go
deeper than that with some folks"
His mothers eye clouded, but she
answered him very gently. She felt
that tonight, for some reason, he was
not responsible for himself.
sI have had trouble that went deep
enough. John. Five children that
have played around my knees, sleep
yonder, behind the old meeting -house,
and to bear and nurse and then lose
there's none knows what it is but just
them that have borne it and God that
made mothers hearts. Yes, I've had
troubles that creature comforts won't
help much and yet / don't despise
this worlds good things. You have
no graves where You feel as if your
heart was shut in and smothered, and
fer bein' tired and mopin', do think
there is virtue in a good cup of tea. !"
Her patience and gentleness touched
him. He drew up his chair to the ta-
Bile, where his father was sitting, and
answered her in soft tone:
81 suppose you are right, mother,
but Pm not just myself tonight"
Then he ate his supper in silence,
and after it was over, sat for few
moments, thinking silently. At last
he took courage and opened the SUBJ
ject of which his mind was full.
! Gather, James Mccormick is want