Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1892-07-21
CHAPTER III.


With coolest shade till noontde's heat is
His life is neither toss'd in bofsterous seas
Ger the vexatious world, or lost in slothful
ease:
Pleas'd and full bIest he lives, when he his
God can please.
Two little faceS-One tear stained. the
other proud and angry-at nine o'clock
saw the horses led to the door, and Mr..
Eyre came out leading his wife. who
was laughing at something he said, and
somehow forgot to look up at the case
meDt and kiss her hand to the children
as she passed.
She remembered them too late, and
then but for moment; her husband
filed memory and landscape alike. rul-
ing her every thought. and carrying her
back to those days when, deprived of
his company, she had tried to live with
out him and nearly died Of the attempt.
The mOmentary GOODNESS of the morn
ing had in its recoil drawn them but
the closer, and something OF that yearn-
ing sense Of love being before, not be-
hind them. rode with them as they went.
and gave to the life around that subtle
touch which brings the lOWliest blade
of grass equally with Gods nObleSt
handlWOrk, into sympathy with the
hearts content.
There are moments when memory
qulckenS and becomes a living Joy; the
mere hue of flower seems to say, do
you remember" and the note of the
bird TO cry, Have you fOrgOtten?"
when SOund-a SCENTS as a word
spoken by one to another; when if your
beloved be at your side, in fancy you
clasp hands and go back together to the
remote beloved past; and When-ah.
hoy INIT ~
death, he comes to you living and real
as the grass at your feet-your very
own as when together you plucked the
flowers that look up at you with clear
eyes that remember both you and him.
Strange that the past should have such
power over US, turning our pres ent
gold, as 1t were, to drOSS-dimming the
sunset hueS that point to bright to-
morrow; reaching out to us from the
darkness like dear dead hand to hal
low our living joys, as the good ship
that lies at anchor casts far beyond her
on the waters a silvery track Of light
that she herself shall never traverse.
Mr.. Eyre's heart eXulted in him as he
barred his brow to the air. ''nimble and
sweet" and looked arOund-Madcap.
honor, fame, riches; all these were his
and what lacked he? Life held not
one JOY that he coveted, or did not hold
IN the hollow of his hand, and through
the gathering years he saw himself as
now, for love is immortal, and Madcap
was youth. and with the twain ever at
his side he might defy age. He had
never before counted up his treasures
thuS-Whence, too, came this odd sense
OF power and mastery over fate that
sWayed him as though he were unused
to sovereignty, and must take the brag
CARTS loud pitiful pride in it?
Dear to him were those peaceful
breathlngS that, ascending from the
village below, spoke of duteOus toll, fol-
lowed in its turn by grateful rest. Not
sight or sound met eye or ear but
spoke Of happiness in the past. of sure
coming peace in the future. Content
was he to dwell among clOdS. so he might
share the clOdS' noble portion of air,
sky, and earth.
"A sweet without a snare-ap pleasure
that brings no pain-tO SOW and plant
in hope. waiting in the rainbow promise
that harvest shall never fail" he said,
thinking half out of his own mind, and
half from a Well-lOved book. And
there are those who pity us, Madcap-
who smiled at this rich attendance on
our poverty, and who would beckOn us
out of our content to the feverish de-
lights that would please you about as
well as a jewel would in comparison
with this"
He turned aside to pluck pale earth
star, lonely, belated, seeming to shrink
within herself from the too vivid, vOlup-
tuous life around; for they were pass
ing just then between hedgerOWS spark
ling through spring ShOWerS-hedge-
rows upon whose banks the season met
and clasped hands, the bright young
beauties of a month ago standing brave
ly up in their faded smOckS side by side
with the bold, gay newcomers, about
whose skirts the breath of early sum-
mer chung. And these Wistful eyes, that
seemed to say, DO not pass us by be-
cause we wear so happy mien. but
gather US for the sake of the yesterday
in which we and you were SO happy,
and that perhaps will have no morrow"
indeed that at length she placed in her
breast.
And | love to see you So" said Mr..
Eyre, with a simple flower in your
hand, and your hair with only its own
light to view it by. After all, what is
every ornament with which a foolish
woman thinks to adOrn herself but an
imitation Of those natural ones that
adOrn our birdS?"
And how much less beautiful" said
Madcap, looking up to gold-crested
wren who sang at ease, swinging amidst
the yellow taSselS of the hazel: while,
hard by, as if in mockery of the tiny
creatures soulless splendor, a russell
thrush poured out his song-the care
full thrush who
Sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could re-
capture
The first fine careless rapture,
and whose song, when we are happy, is
| the song of our own hearts, and it is
| fha bird who is hearkeninp and we who
| are pouring out that triumphant, thrOb-
| bling joy.
What were you thinking, Madcap?"
said Mr.. Eyre, struck by something in
THAT if I were not happy. such
| song as that would break my heartr'
She was trembling violently. and
though he caught her in his arms, she
| trembled still, then sat erect. and pass
ing her hand before her eyes, gazed
| around.
"What was it?' she said. Some
thing-sOme One-and yet saw only
you-alOne-hating all the beauty on
| which you looked because I was not be-
| side you'll"
That's true enough" said Mr.. Eyre:
''nOt a tWig, leaf, or blossom pleased me
on my way home this morning: all I
saw was Madcap at the end of my ride,
| and | found"
Something that could think of you,
| not them, if"
And so you are to die in spring,
Madcap," he said, as he held her close,
land. like Sir Thomas Overbury's milk
maid, have good store Of flowers to cover