The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1894-11-07
At HER BECK
AND CALL.
BY FLORA ANNIE STEELE.

I sat looking AT her, wondering If a
more appropriate name could have
been found for that figure among the
anemones and celandines-the primu-
las, pansies and pinks-the thousand
and one blossoms which, glowing
against their groundwork of forget
me-nots, formed jewel-mosaic right
10 the foot of the SHOWS above rs.
Powerful life; truly that was hers.
She had a great bunch OF scarlet rhod-
Odendron stuck behind her ear, match
ing the cloth cap perched jaunly on
her head, and a. she sat herding their
bufaloes on the upland she had
threaded chaplet on chaplet of ox-eyed
daisies, and hung them about her
wherever they could be hung. The
result was distinctly Powerful; her face
also distinctly pretty, distinctly clean
for Kashmiri girls. But coquette.
fiirt, mink, was written in every line
of il, and accounted for a most unusual
neatness and brightness.
She caught my eye and smiled again
broadly, innocently.
''The HazO0r would like to paint my
picture, wouldn't he?'' she went on in
a tone OF certainty. The Sahib who
came last year gave me five rupees. l
will take six this year. Food i dear,
and these base-born contractors of the
maharajah seize everything-one wal
nut in ten, one chicken in ten"
But was not going to be beguiled
into the old complaints / could hear
any ami every day from the hags in
the village. Up here on the murg,
within a stones throw of the first
patch of snow picketing the outskirts
of the great glacier of gwashbrai, |
liked, if possible, TO forget how vile
man could be in the little shingle huts
clustered below by the river. / will
not describe the place. To begin with,
it defies description, and next, could /
ever hint at its surprising beauty, the
globe-trOtter would come and defile it.
1t is sufficient TO say that a murg is an
upland meadow or alp, and that this
one, with its for-get-me-nots and
sparkling glaciers, was like turquoise
set in diamonds. l had seated myself
ON projecting spur, whence | could
sketch a frowning defile northward,
down which the emerald green river
was dashing madly among the huge
rocks crowned by pine trees.
81 will give five rupees also; that is
plenty" | remarked suavely, and
Phoolijan smiled again.
''It must do, for like being painted.
Only few Sahibs come, very few; but
whenever they see me they want to
paint me and the flowers, and it makes
the other girls in the village angry.
Then GolOo and Chuchchu." Here
she went off into perfect cascade of
smiles, and began to pull the eyelash-
g. off the daisies deliberately. There
seems peculiar temptation for cruelty
toward flowers in girlhood all over the
world, and Phooli-jan was pre-emi-
nently girlish. She looked Is, but !
doubt if she was really more than I6
Even so. il was odd TO find her unap-
propriated, 80 | inquired if Goloo OF
Chuchchu was the happy man.
''My mother is widow" she re-
piled, without the least hesitation. at
depends which will pay the most, fer
we are poor. There are others, too, 80
there is no hurry. They are at my
beck and call"
She crooked her forefinger and nod
ded her head as if beckoning to some
one. For sheer light-hearted, innocent
enjoyment of her own attraction |
never saw the equal of that face.
should have made my fortune if /
could have painted It there in the
blazing sunlight, framed in flowers;
bat it was too much for me. Therefore
l asked her 10 move to the right, |
further along the promonotory, 50 that |
could put her in the foreground of a
picture ] had already begun.
There, by that first clump of iris
] said, pointing to patch of green
sword leaves, where the white lilac |
blossoms were beginning to show.
She gave a perceptible shudder.
'What? Sit on grave, Not l. Does |
not the Huzoor know that those are |
graves? Ii Is true. All our people are |
buried here. We plant the iris over
them always. If you ask why | know
not. 1t is the power of death.
\ sudden determination Ia paint her |
the Powerful life against the Powerful |
death, completely obliterated the |
knowledge of my own Incompetence:
but urged and bribed in vain. Phooli- |
jan would not stir. She would not |
even let me pick handful of the |
flowers for her To hold. 1t was un-
lucky; besides, one never knew what |
one might find in the thickets of leaves |
bones and horrid things. Had / |
never heard that dead people got tired |
of their graves and tried to get out, or |
even if they only wanted something |
in their graves they would stretch forth |
a hand TO get it? That was one reason |
why people covered them up with |
flowers-just to make them more con- |
tented
The idea of STOPPING 10 Gull a flower
and shaking hands with corpse was
distinctly unpleasant, even i'm sunlight,
50 gave up the point and began 10
sketch the girl a she sat. Rather |
difficult task, for she chartered inces-
sanity. Did | see that thin, blue
thread of smoke in the dark pail of !
pine trees covering the bottom of the
valley? That was GoloO's fire. He was
drying orris root for the maharajah.
There, ON the opposite murg, where
the buffaloes showed dark among the
flowers, was Chuchchu's hut. Tn
doabtedly, Chuchchu was the richer.
bat Goloo could climb like an ibex. 1t
was he whom the HuzoOr was going To
take as guide to the peak. He could
dance, too The HuzOor should see
him dance the circle dance round the
fire-no one turned so slowly as GolOo.
He would not frighten young lamb,