River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1896-12-03

I'd ard sat staring at the brightness
Of the day. His state of mind was such
that, possessing it, another boy would
have run and yelled and visited. Ed
ard looked stolid. He seldom smiled.
lie had never fairly learned how. His
lips had ever a sort of grim sobriety.
What we're his sensations? They
tecmed within him; thcy uDlifted his
heart in joyfulness. and caused him lit
orally to blink his eyes with the stress
of so great n repression.
He looked widely around. al the green
sweep of the back yard; at the kitchen
windows, full of flowers in broken
dishes; at the red pump, and the
clothesline, and the great black soap
kettle slung over the ashes of yester-
days fire. 1t was hard for him to be-
lieve that he lived mere, and that he was
going togOon living here. 1t was too stu
pendous and glad and proud a thing for
his comprehension
But SINE things he realized very
keenIy: that he was clean, that he lad
all he wanted to eat, and that what he
ate was good-how good And he
slept every night in a room with no
dirt in il anywhere, and with two win
dows through which the fresh air blew,
and with white, clean, cool sheets in
the bed.
Nobody had spoken to him harshly,
nor whipped nor cuffed him once since
lie had been here; and the two middle
aged faces, which had been wholly
strange TO him but little time ago,
seemed to him the most beautiful he
had ever seen, because they we're the
XII dest.
They called hin Ed'ard. Nobody
had ever called him anything but Ted
before.
He could not believe IL would last. He
looked back at the darkness Of his short
life-at the dirt, and the cold, and the
squalid cheerlessness, and the hard
treatment; and he looked ahead into
vista of peace and safety; and that
he could not believe it was the one
thing that troubled his small soul.
He saw Lawrence Henderson, who
lived next door, looking at him with
suspicious speculation over the top of
the fence. He and Lawrence had not
made much progress toward an ac-
quaintance. Lawrence regarded him
ss a curiosity of dcubtful and alarm
ing order-an object to be examined
from a safe distance.
He was about Ed'ard's age. but he
was head taller and fat. Beside
Ed'ard he looked like large. rosy, in
nocent baby. Seeing them together
had confirmed and intensified Mrs.
Brush's despair.
Lawrence dropped behind the palings
as suddenly as he had appeared; and
Ed'ard sauntered off. lie went through
cTawled under the fence into the pas
ture on the brow of the hill, where the
mushrooms sprung in white e!umps.
and where in the early morning the
dew lay thick and white.
All the cows were off in the woods,
ana one small calf had the pasture to it.
self. Ii cast a timOrous look at Ed'ard
from its dull brown eyes. and sided off
as fast as its clumsy legs would carry
IT.
Its uncouth antics struck Ed'ard nu-
moTOusly, and he chuckled. He made
d tilt at the calf and il plunged into the
corner of the fence. Ed'ard followed.
The unwonted spirit of sport possessed
him. He flung up his arms and
squealed The calf believed, and loped
of in terror. Its stiff tail whipped th.
air, and its legs sprawled in a way that
delighted Ed'ard's soul. The twain
tore round and round the field. Ed'ard's
wide mouth spread wider; his face
grew red with the violence of his eXer-
tions, and damp. His joyous squeals
echoed. But the calf was exhausted
and dazed.
1t staggered, stumbled against the
fence with fun force and crashed
through the time-rotted boards, and
plunged headlong down the steep hill.
Ed'ard started after it, painting. lie
saw where the little animal had lodged
against a great stone near the bottom
OF the hill. 1t lay still, and made no
movement.
Hurried'v he got himself down to the
spot. The calf lay with its head twist
ed back. Its neck was broken. 1t was
warm, and its limbs twitched, but it
was dead. Ed'ard, kneeling beside it.
felt il all over with his two small.
trembling hands.
The calf was dead, and he had killed
Il. 4 cold terror struck his heart. He
vas stiff with fright. Never in his life,
though il had been full of hayward de-
ccit and previously had he done so
fearful a thing. Yet he had been
whipped many and many a time, and
sometimes cruelty. What would hap
pen to him now? What?
lie forgot that he had known moth
ing but kindness here; forgot that he
mad not once been beaten or rallied at or
threatened. The atmosphere of good
ness and miidness and justice had
quivered through all his being, and
warned his starved soul; but he for
rot it row. The traditions of his hard
life were strong upon him. lie was
sick with fear.
For a space he knelt there, not stir
ring. But his wits were at work. His
anxiety seemed focused IA his eyes;
they were cleaning points of light.
lie was struggling to think what was
the most presentable lie he could tell.
Not for an instant did ne shrink
from it. But this was an appalling
case, and to its solution all his faculties
were strained. He cast his eyes around
for any hint, aly loophole of escape.
He saw the old horse waiting in the
wheat field. his patient head dropped.
He looked toward the house. No
body was in sight. His mind worked
fast He invented and weighed and
reasoned, and then contrived a plan.
lie made TO the barn and found a rope;
then he went to the wheat field. He
would have taken the horse from the
p,ow. but he did not know how to do Il.
lie led the horse through the lot and
across the intervening field where the
calf lay. He tied one eTd of the rope
around the calf's neck and the other to
the pillow, with many twistings. He
then led the horse to a stump, al got
on his back.
He guided him toward Mr.. Brush's
woOdpatch, ct a little distance. The
cid animal lifted his ears in bewilder-
ment at the new weight. and stepped
off slowly. The pillow bumped and
bounced. and the calf dragged heavily.
Ed'aTd left the calf at the edge of the
woods and went back as he had come.
lie left the horse where he had found