The San Francisco call., 1897-02-28
The Movers.


Parting was over at last, and all the good-bys
had been spoken;
Up the long hillside the wide-tented wagon
moved slowly
Bearing The mother and children, while on
ward before them the father
Trudged with his gun on his arm and the
faithful house dog beside him,
Grave and sedate. as If knowing the sorrowful
thoughts OF his master.
April was in her prime, and the day in its
dewy awakihg;
Like great flower. atar on the crest of the
eastern woodland,
GoldenIy b oomed the sun, ana over the beau-
tiful valley,
Dim with Its dew and shadow. and bright with
its dream of a river
Looked 10 the western hills, and shone on the
humble procession.
Painting with splehdor the children's eyes,
and the heart OF the mother
Beauty and fragrance and song filed the air
like palpAbte presence.
Sweet was the smell of the dewy leaves and
the flowers in the wild wood.
Fair the long reaches OF sun aud shade in the
aisles OF the forest.
Glad OF the spring, and OF love, and of morn.
ing, the wild birds were singing;
Jays 10 each other led harshIy, then mel
lowly fluted together;
Sang the or. ole songs as golden and gay as his
plumage.
Pensively piped the querulous quails their
greetings unfrequent,
Whlle, on the meadow elm, the meadowlark
gushed forth IN music,
Rapt, exultant, and shaken with the great joy
OF his singing;
Over The river, loud chattering, aloft in the
air, the kingfsher
Hung ere he dropped, like a bolt in the water
teueath him;
Gossiping, out of the bank few myriad twit-
tering swallows,
And in the boughs OF the sycamore quarreled
and clamored the blackbirds
Never for these things moment halted the
movers, but onward
Up the long hillside the white-tented wagon
moved slowly,
TIL, on the summit, that overlooked all the
beautiful valley,
Trembling and spent the horses came to q
standstill unbdden.
Then from the wagon the mother in silence
so. down with her children,
Came and stood by the iather, and rested her
hand on his shoulder.
Long together they gazed on the beautiful
valley before them
Looked on the well.known fields that stretched
away to the woodlands
Where, in the dark lines of green. showed the
milk-white crest of the dogwood,
Snow of wild plums in bloom and crimson
tints OF the rosebud;
Looked on the pasture fields, where the cattle
were laziy grazing,
Softly and sweet and clear came the faint far
notes OF the cowbells;
Looked on the olt-srodden lanes, with their
elder and blackberry borders;
Looked on the orchard, bloomy sea- with its
pillows OF blossoms;
Fair was The scene, yet suddenly strange and
sill unfamiliar,
Like as the faces of friends when the word of
farewell has been spoken.
Long together they gazed; then at last on the
little log cabin.
Home for so many years, now home no longer
forever.
Rested their fearless eyes in the silent rapture
of anguish.
Upon the morning air no column of smoka
from the chimney
Wavering, silver and azure, rose, fading and
Frightening ever;
shut was the door where yesterday morning
the children were playing;
Lit with CLEAN Of the sun, the window
stared up at them blindly;
Cold was the hearthstone now, and the place
was forsaken and empty.
Empty? Ah, no, no! but haunted by throng.
ing and tenderest fancies.
Sad recollections of ali that had ever been, of
sorrow or gledness
Once more they sat in the glow of the wioe
red fire in the winter;
Once more they sat by the door in the cool of
the still summer evening;
Once more the mother seemed to be singing
her babe there 10 slumber;
Once more the father beheld her weep Ger the
child that was dying;
Once more the place peopled by all the
Pasrs sorrow and gladness!
Neither might speak for the thoughts that
came crowding their hearts so,
rill, in their ignorant sorrow, aloud the chill.
dren lamenttd;
Chen was the spell of silence dissolved, and
the father and mother
Burst into tears and embraced, and turned
their dim eyes to the westward.
WILLIAM DEAN HowELLs, in The Trotter and