The Indianapolis sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1880-1904, 1885-01-11

discerning The poems were usually short,
and sensitive in rhyme and rhythm. Willie's
themes were the common sights and the
common pathos or humor of the situations
In which be found the people around him
his Interpretation of the ficker's feelings;
bis delight in certain thick heeces of grass
the panorama of sky and field as it marched
across his eye; the grotesque though heartily
human family party made by old man
Parsons and his wife. where half of their de-
.scendsnts. unable to get into the small
house sat on the fence while the rest ate din
DER. Willie was deaf, but be bad inward
music. Every smooth and liquid stsnzs
was like wine to to hfs mother. She COM
pared bic poems 10 Burns. and could not
find the Mountain Daisy q whit better
than her poets song about the woods In
frost.
Even Mr.. HARRISON thought veil OF vii
lies performances. They we're smuggied to
bin by the mother, ard carefully returned
to their place when the poet was out OF the
house. Mr. HARRISON knew all that was 60
ing on in the world. A dozen times year
be left the grinding OF the mill to meet ME
old chums at the capital, or to quicken
The action of his blood IN Chicago. AcoupIs
of stimulating days tinctured and p.ade en-
durable his month of mill work. A man OF
Luxurious tastes can not lose his tastes with
his means. He was y judge of poets. and
said Willie might rs well take the poetry a.
to anything, tor business did not pay q man
of sound faculties in these days.
The hum of bees could be heard all arouno
this unfinished brick house growing NOISY
at the CAB es, and its shadow was long On the
afternoon sunshine. It was that alert and
happy time of year when esrth's sap starts
new from winter distillstion.
You could hear the voices of children
calling In play as they loitered home from
school; the days were so long that the cow
would not come up the pasture until nearly
7 O'Clock.
Willie trudged across lots to supper
Mrs. HARRISON met him at the north side Of
house, having her garden knife and rase il
her hands. She put them on the stepless
~front,door sill. which never had been ano
never would De pressed by the foot of an ar
irving guest. This stone sill was high enough
? for q seat, and she sat down. fitting her sun
bonnet back, and smiling at Willie. HI
/, sas Toured from head to foot. Little of hi,
boyish beauty except its clear innocence re
NAMED TO him. His nose was large for hi
) head, and on his head the auburn curll
J we're shorn to a thin, crispiug layer.
n His young sister was putting supper on ths
? table in the dining room, his brother ws'
fishing with another boy on the railroad
? and up the cow lsne came his father will
e the slow step and somewhat of the ponderoul
white presence OF the walking statue in Don
c Giovanni.
But, clos st knit of all this family. mother
and son talked together in silence, some
d birds in the mulberry tree over their head
e making the only calling and replying tina
could be heard. Before Villa reached her
he held up his hands and sighed in the deaf
i mute language.
D THE preacher has come back
D Mrs. HARRISON raised her hands and darteC
s her fingers into various shapes, saying there
: oy, did you see himp'
( NO." Willie replied. as swiftly. 1 only
i saw his coffin in the wagon, and Nancy Eller
' sitting beside it. She had to bring him th.
whole twenty miles from where he died, in
+ wagon"
3 Because it wasn't on a railroad?"
Willie nodded.
, His mother wove on: Poor Nancy Ellen
Her father vouldn'tle let her have the preach
er for so long, and turned her off when she
8 did marry him. Now she is q widow in be-
lhoDev-moon, and old man Martin saying be
told her q preacher as old as himself wasn'i
any match for her. Did you see her father
: How did he act?"
"He got into the wagon by the driver
} said W;llie's fingers.
"WelI, that was something for him."
And they drove to his place"
IL suppose he'll let her come back and
live at home now"
II wish you had seen Nancy Ellen"
"Im going to see her alter the milking Is
done"
'seen her by the preacher" insisted
Willie's passes. "She looked like o captive
coming in chains to Rome
Yes, I'll be bound she did. Every jolt Of
that twenty miles is stamped in her mind"
Il wish" flashed Willie, Il knew wba,
the preacher sung to himself all along the
road"
what a notionl You'll haze to fix it up
in poetry now, won't your"
Willie shook bis head many times and
redeemed. You said the preacher used to
sing home from meeting in the dark"
"Yes, be did," affirmed Mrs. HARRISON.
And Nancy Ellen used to listen tor him to
60 by their place."
Their talk paused, and Willie looked up
at the birds in the mulberry. Having after.
ward caught bis mothers eye, be wove out
slowly.
when in the tree above his head
The sap goes tingling through the bark,
She will remember 1t was dead.
And hear him singing in the DARK"
"Oh, Willie. is that the first verse or the
last? Have you written it DOWN.
Willies smiled shyly, putting his heac
down toward one shoulder, without making
any reply. His mother urged, with eager
fingers:
Print 1t in some place when you get it
done. Nancy Ellen would be pleased"
Pm not an obituary poet" waved Willie.
"But that's so good" Mrs HARRISON
moved her lips, repeating 1t to herself And
amt you ever going to publish anything
you write? I've heard of people getting
money for it."
Willie uttered gentle sneer. He laughed
at his mother in q way that always made
her laugh with him.
But if you would let your father fix up
your writings.n she continued. repeating an
old plea, and send them to some publishing
house, l know they would put them in a
book for you"
The gate, wei shted by a stone, slammed to
behind his father coming TO the evening"
meal. But before his mother rose, Willie
found time to make dance before her eyes
The characters indicating this promise:
Some day I'll get on my bicycle and ride
and ride until / come to . publisher. Ifyoul
miss me, you'll know wnere I've gone. You
can Just say to yourself, Hes OF having his
poems published Wait till then, mother;
that will be soon enough"
You'll never do. it," said the mother,
having no idea how near the time was.
She gave her family their supper and
helped to milk the cows. The cows were fra
grant Of pasture grass and Of fern along the
fence corners. She thought of Willie's stanza
when the milk first sang in the pail, and
kept repeating it until the rising froth
dro wned ell sound of the flashing streams
quite at her pals brim.
When the house Was tidy n full of tWi- /