The National tribune., 1894-08-02

and looked away to plumbless distance all
glowing and chidlike, and the new ciphers
slowly said:
"But the Spring dies away. We can
| only see thing born once. And it may be
ours, yet not ours. ] have sighted the per-
feet Sharon-fower far upon Guidon, jet it
| was not mine; it was too distant; / could
| not reach it. i have seen the silver bull
| finch floating along the canyon. called to
| it and it came singing, and il was mine; yet
| could not hear its song, and l let it go;
| it could not be happy so with me.
stand at the gate of great city, and see all
and feel the great shuttles of sOund-the
roar and claCk of wheels, the horses hoofs
striking the ground, the hammer of bells
all: and yet it is not mine-it is far, far
away from me. 1t is one world, mine is an
other; and sometimes it is lonely, and the
best things are not for me. But have seen
them, and it is pleasant to remember, and
nothing can take from Us the hour when
things were born, when we saw the Spring
-nOthiDg-neveri"
Her manner of speech as this went on,
became exquisite in fneness, slower, and
more dream-like, until with downward pro-
testing motions Of the hand she said that
nothiDg-never!" Then a great sigh
surged up her throat; her lips parted
slightly, showing the warm, moist whiteness
OF her teeth; her hands, falling lightly,
drew together and folded in front of her.
She stood still.
Pierre bad watched this scene iutently
his chin in his hands, his elbows on his
knees Presently be drew himself up, ran
finger meditatively along his lip, and said
to himself: ut is perfect. She is carved
from the core of Nature. But this thing
has danger for her-well-
A change in the scene before him caused
this last expression of surprise
Talton, rousing from the enchanting pam
tomime, took a step towards her; but she
waved her hand pleadingly, restrainingly,
and he paused. With his eyes he asked her
mutely why? She did not answer; but,
all at once transformed into a thing of abun-
dant spritliness, ran down the hillside, toss
ing up her arms gaily. Yet her face was
not all brilliance. Tears hung at her eyes.
But Talton did not see these. He did not
run, but walked quickly, following her;
and his face had a determined look. Imme-
diately a man rose up from behind rock
on the same side of the ravine, and shook
clenched fists after the departing figures.
Then he stood gesticulatingly angrily to him.
self, until, CHANGING to look up, ne sighted
Pierre, and straightway dived into the
uuderbrush. Pierre rose to his feet, and
said slowly: Talton, there may be trouble
for you, also. 1t is a tangled world"
Toward evening, Pierre saGnteTed to the
house of Ida's father. Light of footstep, he
came upon the girl suddenly. They had
always been friends since the days when,
at uncommon risk, he rescued her dog
from freshet on the Wild Moose River
She Giffipn ufforiU atIll har handS
folded in her lap. He struck his foot
smartly on the ground. She felt the vibra-
ton, and looked up. He doffed his hat and
she held out her hand. He smiled, and
took it, and as it lay in his, looked at it for
moment, musingly. She drew it back
slowly. He was thinking that it was the
most intelligent hand he had ever seen 4
he determined to play a bold and surpris-
ing game. He had learned from her the
alphabet of the fngers-that is, how to
spell words. He knew little gesture-lan-
guage. He therefore spelled, slowly:
Hawley Is angry because you love Talton."
The statement was so matter-of-fact, so
sudden, that the girl had no chance. She
flushed. and then paled. She shook her
head firmly, however, and her finger slowly
framed the reply: "You guess too much.
Foolish things come to the idle"
II saw you this afternoon" he slightly
urged
Her fingers trembIed slightly. "There
was nothing to see." She knew he could
not have read her gestures. Il was telling
a story"
You ran from him-why?" This ques-
tioning was cruel that he might, in the end,
be kind.
"The child runs from its shadow, the
bird flies from its nest, the fish jumps from
the water-that is nothing" She had re-
covered somewhat But he: '' The shadow
follows the child, the bird comes back to it's
nest, and the fish cannot live beyond the
water. But it is sad when the child, in
running, rushes into darkness and loses its
shadow; when the nest falls from the tree;
and the hawk catches the happy fish
Hawley saw you Also"
Hawley, like Ida, was deaf and dumb.
He lived over the mountains, but came
often. 1t had been understood that one
day, she should marry him. 1t seemed fit
ting. She had said neither yes nor no.
And now?
A quick tremor of trouble traiIed over
her face, then it became very still. Her
eyes bended upon the ground steadily.
Presently bird hoped near, its head CO.
tuetting at her. She ran her hand gently
along the grass towards it. The bird trip
ped on it. She lifted it to her chin, at