The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903, 1897-05-29
In the Footprints of Spring.
A STORY OF vIoLETs UNPLUCKED.

On either hand slender poplars sprang
heavenward above the under tang,e OF
dogwood. Beneath the dogwood fairy
moses began to assume green tints as
delicate ard evanescent to the eyes as
those sometimes to be discerned in the
skies of November. Out of sight down
hollow, narrow creek, flooded by
melting February SHOWS, sang like birds
before daybreak. That morning had
come from my lonely house on the trail
of the first arbptus. | had found green
leaves beneath the brown and dead, had
found green buds clustered beneath the
green and the living, but OF flower not
color, of fragrance not a Whit.
TOO low said to myself; 1t will
have come out up higher"
Presently the road began to wind, and
| came to the SHOWS that sent million
Iivulets to seek my singing creeks. Old
cedar trees filed along the wild way.
They warded the winds. They leaned
far over to shoulder the SHOWS. They
garnered the stray suns OF the cloudy
month, and under them, in deep, golden
brown clefts, how often had l come to
the lips Of the sleeping springtime! 1
knew the cleft that was deepest, sunni
est, most guarded of all, and that way
my steps were bent when an old aston
ishment stopped them sheer. The snow
was firm along the lifted slope of the
road, and there before me went the lit
tie footprints. with the prints OF a
horses hoofs following after. The feet
OF grown up elf might have made them.
Their slenderness and straightness were
as sure as the flight Of swallow. One
of mine would have engulfed two OF
them. / followed, so enchanted with
the charm Of the moment, that failed
TO ask Of myself one Of those stupid
questions with which We destroy the ex-
quisite strapgeness Of life. "Whoee?''
Why" "Whence?" What did l care?
1t was enough that they led TO the cleft
that was deepest. sunniest, most guard
ed. shut my eyes in the sun, and a
girl with the fragile white youth of a
wood flower gathered her black riding
habit about her in one slim hand, while
the other bent back the sweet cedar
boughs to let her pass. Even in dream
60 vague a vision could not linger. /
waited no longer, but parted the
branches and entered the chapel of the
spring as one should. with pulses beat
ing for sign Of her favor, yet with a
heart in tears for my unworthiness. She
OF the small footprints had been before.
The brown dead leaves had been softly
disturbed. She had looked fret upon
the unveiled face Of the spring. But
land Of the matchless rarity Of her re-
framing, you other women may judge
she had not broken off one flower clus-
ter. She had not even brushed its most
outward blooms from one inviolate pet
al. She had but knelt and worshiped:
but / buried my face in that incredible
sweetness and freshness and bruised
and loved it like tie brute / was. Yet
l did NOT gather it. No, there are base.
nesses OF which am incapable. never
gather wild flower 10 die at the lonely
house. There are hot house flowers and
garden flowers that are sown for this
that are planted to be pulled-that are
gathered to die, but let the wild flow
ers stay at home.
Beloved. beloved" / cried TO her ly-
ing there; bat as l went down to my
lonely house l knew that l must not
eysn sock Z g, know her name