Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1893-09-14

a whisper and perched on distant fence
posts, the mated quails, claiming the
weather prophets skill, are announc-
ing the prospect of more wet" The
prairie chicken drums and drums, and
| fancies the noise a song while the cooling
doves, visiting pairs, make most plain
tiff wailings, as though mourning and
loving were to them the same. The
owl, awakening from his all-day
sleep, stretches out his neck from be-
| meath his wings, and beats warning
to his prey. The golden-rod, the wild
sun-hower, the broad expanse of prairie
blossoms fresh from their sun baths,
nod in the gentlest of gentle breezes,
and open their invisible mouths to
catch the dews of night. The beauti-
full daisy and the pretty morning glory
have gone to sleep until the rising sun
shall bid them awake. The whippoor-
will sits on the branch of an old oak
tree near the waters edge, and tells
all the world within hearing that he
is whipporwill and must be listened
to. The blue bird and the wren hop
from limb to limb, twitter and chatter,
and go to sleep chattering. The COWS
with quickened pace move with single
file along the narrow patch by the side
of the bluff. chewing their cud, looking
so demurely out Of their great brown
eyes, bowling Familiarity to every bush
and shrub, fastening to reach home
before night-fall.
On the brow of yonder bluff, where
the rays of the sun are lingering and
departing, it is said an Indian maiden
threw herself into the waters below
rather than wed against her will.
The sky, too, is full of the glory of
God, and lovers are both deaf and
blind if they find no time for the ad-
miration of such grandeur. Yonder,
almost in the zenith, is jupiter shin
ing so brightly and looking SO proud
because he is king of the heavens even
for brief hour, and now the great,
round, red moon breaks the horizon
and climbs mysteriously up the clear
sky, the big bright stars and the dim
little ones, all hide their heads, and
even jupiter himself fades away, and
the shadows come again and cover the
borders of the lake with phantoms of
various shapes, affording the imagina-
ton an easy opportunity to
fancy any image the brain
can design or DESIRE Light breezes
sigh mournfully through the trees, and
joining high up above the waters of
the lake, the winds that swept from
the distant prairie, seem like dismal
murmurings and harsh rnutterings
coming from human voices above the
clouds; or it may be those strange,
wierd noises are voices of spirits from
the tom BIS of the mound-builders hold
ing converse with the spirits from the
graves of the long-buried Indians.
These mysterious noises come from
the darkness, and go only with the
light of the morning.
The moon is now we'll on it's Journey
across the sky. The fields and river
and lake and farm houses are as plainly
visible as at MONDAY. The symmetri-
cal stacks of grain stand out boldly as
if saying "we are the staff of life for
man and beast" The hay has been
harvested and the long racks mean
that Well-fed cattle shall reward the
husbandman for his labor.
The fields and meadows have been
shorn Of their wealth Of food. except
the broad acres of Indian corn whose
Iuxuriant growth makes the farmer
smile as he dreams of fat herds and
fat purse. That swapping, cracking,
rustling noise which is the only sound
that breaks upon the stiffness of the
night, is the growing corn. It is push
ing, driving, and crowding itself out of
the golden tassel into the ear, return
ing to the plowman sixty and even
ninety fold of increase, the reward
promised him for his labor and his
faith.
The lights in the farm houses have
long since been extinguished. The
"a. NJ 20 iSrh
sive. Strange that the bosom of the
lake should be undisturbed by even a
ripple, while high up in the sky the
elements should be at war. The herd
mans dog gives out an occasional bark
to let his master known that he is an
honest dog. Now and then a dismal
howl, though in perfect concert, comes
from some prowling mongrel.
Save these infreouent disturbers of
natures stiffness, and the ever present
commingling of those suDernal voices
in the upper air, all overthe broad sur
face of the lake, and all over the fields
and through the forest, as far as an eye
can sec or ear can hear, there reigns
the quiet of the church-yard at the
midnight hour.
Some people would think it no time
Or place for youth and maiden Of flesh
and blood to talk Of love. But lovers
are on the lake-Louis and Mary are
there-and they have been telling
over and over again the story of their
love. OF all this chapter recounts not
a thing have they seen or heard. Mary
appears unusually melancholy, per-
haps because this was their first meet
ing on the lake since her fathers
death.
TO BE CONTINUED.
Another Kind of G. WaSfintOn.