The Portland daily press., 1895-11-30
A ROMANCE OF WORK
WALT Whitman.

The sun hung like copper disk in an
indigo sky. Heat danced, whirled and
eddied few feet above the alkali dust in
the trail. Over the great patches of sage
brush the air hung like the breath of the
dead. Not even the wing of bird set it
in motion. The low adobe cabin seemed
to crouch upon the plain as if it were try.
| ing to escape notice, fearful lest the heavy
sky would fall upon it. Except the few
scattered sheep corrals there was not a
| break in the monotonous level Of the
ground.
One could judge from the height of the
| sun that the morning was scarcely begun
But there was no other sign-song OF
birds, sparkle of devon the Upidee ranch
A young woman sat in the doorway with
| folded hands and detected shoulders She
was apparently as lifeless as her surround
ings. With her head leaning against thu
| side Of the door she might have made q
| pleasing picture were it not for the hard
| lines about her mouth and the hopeless
look in her eyes-eyes which wandered
over the gray sagebrush and fingered
stolidly upon the patch where she had
tried 10 keep alive few green plants
There had been a time when the sight
of these withered plants cooked by the sun
| would have made her cry. Not now,
| though. Janet Dinscombe wondered
vaguely if she were losing her senses. She
remembered hearing centuries ago-it was
| less than year-that men lost their
minds when they were alone for months
IN, hn La 1nl L
thought of that when Roger Dinscombe
had told her of his love before he came to
work out living on sheep ranch. She
would not delay the marriage. 81 am to
be helpmeet, not hindranoe, !" she sold
and urged him to take her with him. 81
will keep house for you. We will be to-
gether. What more can we ask?" she said
pleadingly. With pretty flushed cheek
mp against his Roger Dinscombe had not
The courage to deny Janet Moore's de-
mand. Her home was not very pleasant
he argued to himself in justification. And
Janet had her own way
The first two months the young wife
went singing about the little cabin, happy
enough. Then her step grew less lively
and hours Of unhappiness followed Roger
loved her, of course she knew that But
he did not tell her so very often now.
Then, too, he was busy all the day, and
she had long forenoons and afternoons
when there was nothing to do Her house
was neat as pin. She even had read all
the advertisements in the few papers which
chance brought her. Her nearest neighbor
lived five miles away. When Roger oame
home, he was too tired to talk much
There was late supper and an early
breakfast-and then silence and desola-
tion.
One day Janet realized she was losing
her love for her husband. That was when
she had planted tho garden. A few sicklJt
plants grew there, which she kept alive BY
carrying water from muddy little stream
When July came, this dried up. And now
her plants were dead She felt choked as
she looked at them, but the tears did not
come to her eyes.
Roger Dinscombo noticed the shadow
which had settled upon his wife's face.
Blaming himself he grew irritable and
moody. Instead of love making him ten
der it forced him to be distant Often now
husband and wife avoided looking into
each others eyes. That very morning he
had spoken to Janet sharply as he went
away. The words fell back on his own
heart like FASH "What a brute I am, y
he muttered, and half turned to come
back But the set look on Janet's face
came up before him and he spurred on the
pony he was riding.
Gam 1 going madP' Janet repeated to
herself until the sun had crept to where
she sat. II won't go mad. I am girl
of common sense used to hate the work
at home of cooking for houseful of step
h,.o+ rio to nd
ing with constant whining and fretting
from stepmother who was as strong as !
am. Now work would be the most blessed
boon on earth. What shall 1 dor" The
little sitting room and kitchen were spot
less. She could not do anything there.
"I'll put my trunk in order" she
Thought. Not ribbon was out Of place.
She took up bundle of patches idly.
"Why not make quilt?" The idea pleased
her as she looked over the patches. That
bit of lilac print was her first "grown up
gown" and this blue and white checked
calico was the dress she had on the first
time she met Roger. She remembered now
that she had bunch of wild crab apple
blossoms in her belt when she raa into
Mrs Dinscombes on an errand and was
told, "Janet, this is my son Roger, who
has just come home from the west.''
The young Mrs. Dinscombe's face soft
ened as she seemed to live it over again
and to see honest blue eyes looking at her,
saying, 81 approve Of YOU Piece after
piece was unfolded. This white null was
her wedding dress. Smoothing and pet
ting it with fingers which would get
;erky, Janet sat for a long time. Then the
tears came-tears which seemed TO melt
the iron band around her heart. When she
remembered where she was, it was almost
supper time, and she jumped up with a
little start. 'Poor Roger" she murmured.
''What must you think of meP" She cooked
the BEST that her kitchen afforded and in