Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1898-03-24
"Whnt ,rds Strong thinking Off"

"Vhnt 1cdS Strong thinking Off"
1t gals, o my dear Lord, 1t gallsl Give
Mo strength to bear it aud to hide it
from every eye but thinel"
This, her prayer, she had poured out
afresh that morning. knecling among
the fallen leaves that carpeted the earth
about Gabrielle S tomb. "You loved mo,
sweet, when we were two ignorant lit
tie girls, knowing nothing Of the social
bars that herd all humanity into differ
ent pens for different service. II only
you could have staid and ! gone Bella
minel"
Having thus quieted herself like
weaned child" her sketching had pro-
ceeded very satisfactorily until the iliad
Of Sarah Jano's woes had pierced her
ears and broken up her working mood.
not to be recovered that day.
Seth would be coming for her present
ly, and together, perched high on the
wagon, with it's cargo of seed cotton ris-
, ing in dazzling pile behind their
backs. they would ride home under the
faraway blue Of the October sky, crush
ing the plumes of the goldenrod that
Ilu6U Luo udIIOW Iuttcu Aouu pc1iCueh
the ruthless iron tires Of their clumsy
wagon wheels, and while the mellow
song of the care free cotton pickers
fioated to her ears, punctuated by the
short stertorous breathing Of the steam
engine at the gin, Seth would entertain
her with the weights picked by each
hand, and tell her how the race between
the champion pickers progressed. She
must be very much interested In it. She
owed it to Seth.
From where she sat on the moldering
brick steps she could see tho willow
fringed pond near by the ginhouse.
They were ginning that day. Woolly
white clouds of steam escaped in swift
Jerks from the short, black pipe that
pierced the ginhouse roof and lost them
selves in the upper blue The whir Of
the machinery, the whizzing of the
great rubber bands, the tearing teeth Of
the saws, were all mcrcifully deadened
to her cars She was glad they had put
the family burying ground as remote as
possible from all that rattle and clatter.
It seemed All especial intrusion into
the holy calm of that October day.
Another long, quiet hour passed
The lace patterns of the elder bushes
were losing their nice exactness OF out
line and growing blurred. What pile
of cotton Seth must be weighingl She
settled her turban more securely on her
head and retraced her steps to where
she had left her drawing materials all
scattered about on the low fat stone
that covered the remains of some long
forgotten Strong. She gathered her
crayons and sketchbook into her satch-
el with reluctant fingers.
Here, and here only, the peace that
passeth all understanding abides with
me-"
She clasped her small hands and
stood looking out over the gentle land
scape with yearning eyes. Graveyard
point" as the promontory she was
standing on was called, lifted its green
head full 200 feet above the water level.
Across the many tinted vines that
wrapped the tall forest trees in royal
mantles of scarlet and gold she looked
down upon the fiat bottom lands that
lay green and moist at the foot Of the
cliffs. 1t was down there that Strong
was making hermit Of himself. Why,
no one knew.
She was thinking Of him. Sorrow
fully, pitifully, tenderly. Perhaps no
one could come as near compromising
his dark mood as she could. He had
found it impossible to take up the old
life Just where he had dropped it before
going to Singleton. But why should
he have tried to do it? He was man.
The world was all before him. He could
have gone out to grapple with it. She
was a woman. That meant so much IN
the way of restriction and limitation.
She could only stand and wait.
Neck or Nothing looked desolate
enough from where she gazed down
upon it. Faithless worm fences crawled
in decrepit crookedness about its few
acres Of cleared land. A solitary forlon
cabin. shutterless and unpainted. was
[ooNT1NuED.]