The record-union., 1893-02-23
BURKE'S WIFE.

petals of the prune blossoms; the bees
droned in the sunshine: the air was fra
grant and warm, for it breathed over the
small, moist oasis the greater heat of the
more barren plain. Within the low,
three-roomed house a child of two years
tossed, half-sleeping in his cradle, while
his young mother sang, more to herself
than to him, not the conventional cradle
hymn, or Indeed slumber song ofany sort
but what might be called woman's "Mar-
seillaise." Her voice was well-trained,
and sweet, but there was repression in
Its tone; she sang with her lips half closed,
as II she were afraid someone might over
hear. 1t had no lulling, soothing ca
dence; there was unrest in the sound
discomfort, mutiny. The child knew it,
and opening his great round eyes he
caught the sides of the cradle with his
plump hands, lifted himself into sitting
posture, put out his arms to the singer,
and uttered a frightened cry. She
snatched him almost roughly from the
cradle and placed him upon her knee.
Come, then, mothers tormenti mothers
darling mothers ball-and-chain ~ she
cried, kissing him passionately and
fiercely
When she sank into a seemingly en-
forced silence the boy uttered most un-
Childish sigh, and as if she had been a
Dabe and he its mother, he rose to his
knees, and took her cheeks in his tender
palms in a conciliatory and atiectonate
way. The cheeks he pressed were fair,
soft, and smoothly rounded, for Burlles
wife was but nineteen years old.
My little son, why did you ever come
10 me ~ she sobbed, her mood softening.
There is no patience in my mother
love; L am not worthy of you. God !!
drive out this demon of unrest within
Inc! !"
The childish arms crept round her
neck protectingly, and remained clasped.
Nhen at last Babe won his reward, a
smile from her, he laughed almost hys-
terlcally, and his little hands beat tattoo
on her shoulders as If he feared unless
he continued to beguile her with caresses,
the paroxysm might return. But when
she rose, bathed her face, and proceeded
10 wash his, he became every inch baby
again, and kicked, cried, and scolded an
energetic protest, whereat his mother
laughed. Then hand in hand, with tear
marks upon their eyelids, and smiles
upon their mouths, the mother and child
appeared to Burke, where he was silently
working among the trees.
The boy called "Papa!'' and put out his
hands to be taken, but his father did not
need them; he was scanning his wife's
face with look of entreaty in his eyes,
alInOugn ms lips were dumb.
He was past middle age-a powerful
man, with sad expression except when
smiling upon his wife and child. He
lowered above them as the three stood to-
gether, his wife lifting her face with a
ialnt smile upon it as she said: ITS all
over, Burke. May we sit with you awhile?
We've very good.''
Then Burke saw Babes outreaching
hands,
Young man, you set right yer," said
he, depositing him under a tree and Civ
ing it shake. The prune SHOWS shed
their frail flakes over the child: he
laughed and began to catch them in his
hands.
Burke wiped the perspiration from his
glowing face and then stopped and kissed
his wife.
you know I'd cut my heart out for
you, my wife," he said.
Il know" she answered, 'but it would
be better, Burke, to cut out mine. There
is where the wicked unrest lives. l can
not seem TO kill 1t. Let us forget it when
we can. Why do you work so con-
stantly-is not everything in order?"
Il don't mind work." he said, Though
it seems like it's the hottest day this year
But the heat worries you, and so does that
great boy. You amt ct nothin' to-day,
either. Set yer in the shade; it'll be
cooler soon, an Fll slip round am kill a
chicken forsupper."
1t was Borkes custom to ''slip round''
and do the most of the work, without aud
within. Yet the place looked thrifty;
There seemed no lack of labor or means
Without the house was mass of vines,
and flowers were planted about every
where. Burke had taken up a large
claim; at that time 1t was unirrigated, ex-
cept by the well he had sunk near the
house; but the water, proving plentiful
and pure, suthced for the small tract he
had planted to fruit and for garden.
AS his wife sat there on this warm day
in spring, to contented mind the place
must have seemed a veritable slice out of
Paradise. Above her head the windmill
waved its Jireless arms, as 1t drew the
water for the thirsty prune and tig trees
Here and there peach or almond blushed
among the prune trees that paled in
blooming, and along the fences the yellow
poppies made low hedge of flame. Far
beyond the level reaches that were barren
from lack of moisture only the snow
crowned mountains stood, and over all
stretched the cloudless California sky.
Burke's wife appreciated all this grand
and gentle beauty; it stirred her STRANGELY
unquiet soul, but only to make her long
for wings to fly away and be at rest.
Burke's so-called neighbors knew
nothing of his history, except what had
happened before their eyes, and the cir
cumstantial evidence given by his small
fruit ranch and comfortable home Neither
during the past three years; stranger still.
he was almost wholly ignorant of her
past; he did not even know her name.
Three years before, when his ranch was
comparatiVely new, he went out one
morning and found young girl living
PROSTATE upon the path leading to his
door; almost, in truth, upon his very
threshold. She was white and faint:
nearly insensible. He lifted her, and car
rying her within laid her upon his bed
She made no objection. no explanation
no apology; she simply called for water
He gave it, bathed her forehead, and with
surprising deftness unbound her long,
yellow hair and spread it over the pillow
She looked into his face, her dark eyes
bright with fever.
"rhey shall not take me alive,n she
said; hide me"
'Don't be afraid" he answered.
You're going to stay right yer. Thar
amt safer place in the Statep'
For three weeks be watched her, nursed
her, and let the prune trees go. There
was not another woman within twenty
miles: not even a doctor, so far as Burke
knew. She was quite out of her mind.
Hide me! hide me-" she kept on cry
ing She was no sooner reassured than
she forgot his promise altogether, and be-
gan the same plea over again. She nearly
always fancied herself travelling, but
sometimes she was acting; one moment
She was Juliet, the next instant she was
Ophelia, or perhaps Rosalind, but Juliet
most of all. Then she addressed Burke
as Papa" and said that, though he killed
her. she would never marry that detesta-
BILE man.
Her own mother could not have nursed
her more delicately or tenderly. When
the fever burned itself out he thought her