St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1885-01-29

] and ride and ride until / come to a
publisher. If you miss me, you'll know
| where Eve gone You can just say to
yourself, .He's off having his poems
! published Wait till then, mother !;
| that will be soon enough"
/ you'll never do it," said his mother,
| having no idea how near the time was.
She gave her family their supper and
| helped to milk the cows. The cows
were fragrant 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 re-
peating it until the rising froth drown
! ed all sounds of the flashing streams
quite at her pail's brim.
When the house was tidy and full of
| twilight stiffness, Mrs. HARRISON put
Oh clean apron and took her sunbOn-
net to make her call of cOndOlence. 1t
was likely they wonld want watchers
at Martins, and she was ready to do
any thing. She had helped bear the
burden of life and death SO long in
| Fairfield that illness, a new baby, or
the mysterious breathless presence in
any house was peremptOry invitation
| to her.
The boys were playing hide-and-
seek around the warehouse, and as she
crossed the open lot she saw the usual
| line of wise men sitting on the edge of
| the platform with their legs across the
rail, as if they had all agreed to make
an offering of their feet to the Jugger-
naut of the next passing train.
Willie darted like bat or night
bird on his bicycle far up and far
down the smooth wagon road. Now
he took turn and came spinning
among the boys, scattering them be-
| fore him, and escaping as often as they
chased him Ia one of these excursions
he crossed his mothers way. The
lamps were Just lighted in the station,
and they poured full over his laughing
| face. Besides, the last red streaks and
high sunset lights We're not gone out of
the sky, and these would have given
her more than the silhouette of Willie.
She lifted up her hands and spelled,
Gaze you starting out to hunt a pub
| Usher now ?"
And Willie laughed and nodded and
made her a sign of good-by.
The pleasant stiffness of the evening
fell around her like a blessing as she
went on. Fire-tlies were filling one
field, as if a cOntlagration under that
particular ground sent up endless
streams of sparks. She smelled the
budding elders, and was reminded of
tile-ike bits in her past, fitted oddly
together.
Martin lived but few steps beyond
the village. She had been talking il
mere moment with Nancy Ellen, and
had not yet entered the room where
the preacher lay, when some other
neighbor came in with excitement, and
said aloud, over the whispered talk of
the mourning house, that something
was wrong down at the depot.
THAT express has run into some
thing again." proclaimed the neighbOr,
:" and looks, by the way folks run, as
if it wasn't n COW this time. Enough
cows and pigs has been killed by that
railroad"
81 haven't seen tho express" said
Mrs. HARRISON, feeling her head full
of wheels. at was all quiet when |
was there minute ago
"The express has stopped. Good
reason There's something on the
track, tell ye," said the neighbor.
Willie's mother was sure it could not
he Willie. He was conscious of his in
trinity, and so cautious that she had
long ceased to be anxious about him.
He knew the times of all the trains
with nice eXactness, also. Yet she
started from the house without speak
ing another word, and ran until she
reached the crowd.
The engine stood kissing it con
fronted her with the glare Of its eye, a
horrid and remorseless fate, ready to
go it's way with bell-clanging and all
cheerful noise, no matter who had
heen ground under its wheels.
The conductor was just stepping on
beard, for time and orders wait for
nothing. The engineer had already
climbed back to his cab he saw run
ming woman kneel down on the plat
form and draw the boy up from the
boards to rest in her arms. Having
seen that much, the engineer turned
away his head and wept out loud and
the train moved on, bearing pale faces
that looked backward as long as they
cOuld discern anything.
Mrs. HARRISON had stumbled over
Willie's bent wheel first. When she
found him indeed laid in the midst of
the crowd, she did not believe it. He
was not mangled. His bones were
sound-she felt them with Il liercely
quick hand. There was no mark about
him excepting a dirty-lOOking spot on
one temple.
"Willie." she said. shaking him.
"Willie Willie ~
"Wem have to carry him home,"
said her husband at her side, his voice
sounding far off as if it came strained
through some dense medium.
She looked up, and could not under
stand it.
"IIe's knocked senseless," she claim
ed. ''Why doesn't somebody bring
water ?"
Gle never knowed what hurt him"
cautiously said one villager to another.
"The train was gOin' so fast, and he
come up from among the houses onto
it so fast, that it was done in flash"
"And don't never want to see no
better boy than Willie HARRISON was,
responded the other.
But only his mother-when she had
him ut home lying in that pomp of
death with which we all shall impress
beholders-could have pronounced the
true grafton over him. Through her
dumb tragedy she wanted to make
deaf mute signs to some intelligence
that here lay one of natures poets,
with gift virgin and untarnished.
He had never hunted public. His
public was the woods and sky, and his
critic one fond woman. Not line of
unsatisfied ambition marked his placid |
face He had lived humble, happy |
life, and sung for the sake of express |
sion, not for the sake OF praise. He
had after all only gone to find the /