Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1898-11-10
Below The ledpe. ont from urier the

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trees and the guarding echo, we stand
in pasture where blackberry bushes
and brambles grow at our feet, and
there we look across the abandoned
i apple orchard with Desolate Cottage
standing forlornly there, across mead
ow that slants to the rivers side, across
| the path of the river betrayed by the
trees, to the wooded hills that rise to
the sky that sinks behind them and
shuts out the world beyond.
The shingles of Desolate Cottage are
covered with the moss of many years.
but now even the moss finds no wood
| beneath it and slowly falls away.
The bricks of its chimney were long
| ago built into the walls of another
home. The door stone is sunk in the
grass and hid by tangle of wild
| rose and burdock that quarrel and
are friends again.
The floors are bending and saggine
downward with the rotten sleepers. A
few bits of plaster, green with years;
a few bits CT wall paper discolored
past all resemblance to what it once
was, cling to the walls. The frames
of the windows and the glass that
was in them are long fallen away.
and driven in by the valley winGs the
| leaves of last years spring rustic and
| frolic in the tenantiess rooms. In the
low-roofed kitchen a great brick oven
yawns beside the vacant chimney
place; and all else that remains to
| tell that here was once a home is
| an ancient cradle, >Dce red, now paint
| less, rocked by the passing hreezes in
| the empty Desolate Cottage of the
Valley Shut-In.
| Many years ago, when the great
beeches where the echo fingers were
saplings and only the rocks and trees
were old, John and Joanna lived with
! their parents in neighboring cottages
of the Valley Shut-In. In the winter
they went tramping over the hills to
school together, John helping Joanna
over icy paths and through the shift
| ing drifts, and Joanna assisting John
over harder paths in the spelling book,
| whispering words to him as they sat
| together on the lower form. And
John often had a juicy apple for Jo-
anna, or she a handful of nuts for
him. In summer days they led a
sweet, wild life together, fishing for
| the little minnows in the river, reach
! ing for the cowslips or the flags that
| grew in the swamp, and when they
older grew. they met in the cleaning
and talked of many things. And then
| one night when the mated birds sang
softly in the thicket, when a thrush
poured forth a flood of melody in the
forest and a whip-poor-will Knocked
| insistently by the riverside, John and
Joanna watched the mating birds and
| told to one another the old, old story.
| No painting tells US now of Joanna's
| charms. Not even 4 silhouette remains
to show us Johns stronger face. Only
| tradition has handed down their story,
and we are left to picture to ourselves
the rosy cheek and laughing eyes that
had charmed Johns willing mind, and
the strong, firm figure ard honest face
| that made him Joanna's hero. Their
ambition was not to move in a wider
world; Valley Shut-In was quite wide
| enough for the home they 1onged for,
and the hills failed to shut them in
when they and their love were left to-
gether. So, in happy disregard of world
| ly echoes, they began the preparation
| for the home that was to be. John for
| many months worked for others, earn
| ing the humble pittance that was laid
| away to build the house on land his
| father gave him in Valley Shut-In. Jo-
anna spun and wove the wool and fax
her mother gave her, and then searched
the pastures over. far and near, picking
| up the feathers that the geese had
| dropped, gathering the wool from the
| bushes where the sheep had scratched,
| meanwhile building castles in the air.
And when the summer came each
year and the birds mated again, John
in the trysting place asked Joanna
when the day should be, and every
year for ten long years Joanna said:
Not yet; l am not ready yet" But
at last, in the midst of the Loneliness
of Valley Shut-In, a roof was seen and
then a little later in the dusk of
midsummer evening, when the whip
poor-will was singing. by the light OF
a midsummer moon and the glimme1
of myriads of firefies, Joanna and
John came down the hill, through the
path that was shaded by trees, and the
light of home CLEANED across the val
ley and made its loneliness flee away.
John had chopped the trees that
made the beams, had built the huge
brick chimney. had placed the glass in
the little windows. end dragged from
the ledge stone for the doorway.
Joanna had filed the shelves of the
cupboard with linen and wool and the
beds with feathers gathered in many
ways. She had planted ferns and flow
ers around the doorway and trained
growing woodbine across the little
porch. John had fashioned many
piece of homely furniture, a cherry
table, a chair CT gnarled tree trunks.
chest and a settle for the fireplace,
and single scoops for dipping meal
from the bin and wooden spoons for
Joanna's use. And when they began
their life together a pair "f wrens
built a nest in the doorway where the
woodbine grew.
For one short year they lived with
the spirits of love and content in hap
ply Valley Shut-In, but when the suns
and shadows of that short year had
passed, in .he midst of the budding of
the leaves and flowers, the ma ting of
the birds and the death of a dearer
hope. Joanna slept the sleep that
knows no waking and John roamed
alone in a wider valley.
The latch-strfng was never pulled in
the door of Desolate Cottage, and the
wrens few away never to return.