Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-11-28

L
was sure Of that, though he walked with the
| elasticity OF . boy. He had never been seen TO
wear an overcoat, even in the severest weather,
and only buttoned his little frock coat more
closely about him as he darted ont into the face
| OF the north wind with simple audacity.
But to every one in Harmony Lucy Denslow's
| life was an open volume. Sixty years ago, in
the great wide house down in the village on
had died and left her and the old Judge alone.
and here Lucy Ruggles had grown up from .
| slip OF . girl to slip of q woman, with dark
hair and eyes and . wonderful way Of her own.
This way brought many lovers to her and she
| threw them each . ribbon and kept them all
along chasing her feet. But one day Peter
Denslow was moved to gather in the slack of
| his ribbon and, 10 ! with it came Lucy Ruggles.
| There was fine wedding for those days and
these two went away, full Of youth and hope
and the plans that come with both But in less
! than year the old house received her again.
| still slip Of a woman, bnt now gowned in black
and going heavily enough for one who had fed
| away SO blithely. The judge died after few
years and still she lived on in the old house and
moved about the big rooms and kept the circu-
iatlon OF the old place healthy.
| There was a goodish patch of lawn land
| sloping slightly from the road to the river. and
back OF the house we're famous gardens full of
| old-fashioned flowers. There were quantities
of phlox and verbenas and msrigolds and lady
| slippers and a whole army of tiger lilies pre-
| senting arms along the walks. And She too,
had great clumps of rose bushes, and she
| stepped about among them with an animated
face and the high manner of princess playing
| soubrette. There was a wonderful vivacity
and touch of youth about her, and even in
these later days, when she wore little gray
gowns and dainty white caps. she wore them
with an air and didn't look in the least like
other little old ladies, howsoever lovely they
| might be. Her black hair was now softly gray,
but her eyes were as bright as of old. her
wrists were still rounded and her hands were
| white and firm.
| 1t was the 18th day of November in this year
OF summer when Mrs. Denslow looked out
| upon her shady lawn and over the sunshiny
old hills, and was minded to 60 out to the edge
OF the town and see if she could spy the end of
| the summer coming up over the ridge. The
sky over the hill country was SO deeply blue
that II one watched it for a while the great cup
| seemed to darken, and then keep turning in
side out like moving slide in a magic lantern,
only it was always blue and deeper blue.
In ordinary years a grayer shade would have
crept into the sky long before the middle of
November, but SO far it had not come. The
| leaves hung on bravely, though they were
garmented with dust. for no showers had fallen
| for two weeks. The air had no suggestion of
sharpness in it. but as Mrs. Denslow stepped
away down the street she noticed certain
| fresh motion among the leaves and found that
the breeze was cooler than before. A little
crooked road turned out of the main street
near her house and went struggling up the
NIL to run along the ridge for some distance,
and then turned back to join the turnpike
again.
Mrs. Denslow went lightly along the path,
Tor the slope was gradual She stopped every
little while to peer out between the trees and
listen to the soft noises inside the woods. She
was on terms of intimacy with a lot of chip
hunks that used to scamper to and fro across
the road before her when she went that way.
Moreover, she had some distant acquaintance
with pair of gray squirrels who inhabited big
maple tree that stood well back in fine park Of
elder bushes. She had never spoken to these
gray squirrels, but the chipmunks and she were
gossips. And then she had salutlng friend
| snip with an old and reverend woodchuck, to
whom passing years and the despite OF man had
lett only three legs and a fraction. This
patriarch lived among the rocks in q sugar
camp nearly at the top Of tho hill, and when.
ever Mrs. Denslow passed his demesne she was
pretty apt 10 him sitting gravely around
| thinking about the weather. He wasn't pro-
gressive or neighborly, but he had always lived
there and Mrs. Denslow was pleased to see him
still above ground and thinking.
1t was late in the afternoon when Mrs. Dens-
| low stood on the crown of the ridge and looked
eastward across the deeper valley. The slope
| was rich with many soft greens, and the rocky
pasture land was warm in the sunshine. The
colors were SO soitened and shaded together
that the grass looked gray like the lodges where
| they cropped out into the sunlight, and then
| straying slowly along the slope. The bottom
| of the valley was already in shadow and down
| in the midst of the mass OF darkest green stood
| a maple tree, which waved toward her single
yellow bough.
| Mrs. Denslow observed this manifestation of
| change with honest regret, tempered with q
| sadden competency in that she was the first
person in Harmony to see the signal of the
| end of the long summer. If it had to come.
| she reflected, it was worth something to have
L. 81 -
from anybody. And SO she took a last look at
the sweep of woodland and passed along the
ridge, then turned into the main road again
and down toward the village. The sun had
dropped low and the level beams came boldly
| into her shining eyes and made her raise her
been very glad had he seen her beside the
broad white road in her little gray gown and
black lace shawl, her tiny fee. condescending
always little lower as she came down the hill.
But Prof Churchill looked up and saw her
from his garden. where he stood by the rose
trees. His face lighted up, for he had Just
conceived a new idea. He came out and stood
by the road with hand outstretched to welcome
her, and she came floating down to him as
graciously as a fairy princess and as fine.
Some such thought sprang into his mind, for
he made her one of his profoundest bows and
said is this Mrs. DenslOw or the good goddess
of the long summer come to smile upon o rose
garden?'
''Wny, frOI. Cnurcnll said the little lady,
"did you ever see a goddess with an umbrellal
Besides, am not fit to pose as goddess OF sum-
mer, for l have come the voice crying in
the woods before the north wind. The leaves
are beginning to turn in the valley. professor"
'Oh, l am sorry" said he anxiously, be
cause had hoped to a wonderful thing
There are 30 many little buds on my largest
red rose tree and 1 believe that they will all
come along in about two weeks if the cold
does not kill them. And then, Mrs. Denslow,
I should be able to walk here in my garden
and see roses blooming on Thanksgiving day."
"What delightful thing to think of! Do
let me come III and see Them" said Mrs. Dens-
low. Your spells must have been more potent
than usual this year, professor. 1 really be-
lieve it is you who have delay ed the cold DAYS,
inst that your roses might Guido themselves.
But you must keep the sunshine here, en-
chanter, or your roses will fall apart into hand
fuls of leaves, like the magic money"
A queer little look of loneliness fell on the
eager, thin face. ''But l am not enchanter
enough to hold the sunshine, he said; lit only
visits me now and then"
Mrs. Denslow gave q swift, startled glance at
the professor. but the sunshine PLAYS sad
tricks with natures ways" she said when it
brings the red roses of the years youth into its
fading days"
Something new had come into the professors
face--somethiug which she had never seen
there before. 1t was flushed like ono of his
own red roses, and full of strange eloquence
He took one step nearer to her. Are they
tricks, he asked, when they are nature 8
| a. x.-~z-o H..