The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1899-12-01
The Scranton Bro ca de.

The Scrantons sent more good men
down to the sea in ships than any other
| family in Salem in the days when the
| sailing vessels Of the eastern coast made
! their way around the globe, and Salem
| sailors were great among the wander
| ers of the world. And the Scranton wo-
| men nursed a vast patience, and watched
the winds of the heavens, and knew the
| tricks OF the tide. They were intellect
ual women, quiet and pale, who liked to
| live in a retired fashion and who, In
| spite of the wealth of the family, were
best pleased to DC in plain clothes.
| It always amused them that CAPTAIN
Wyant Scranton, who, among all their
/ famous sailors, was the most famed,
man could never bring home enough
| Haunting banners and screens from China
nor sufficient necklaces from the Bar
| barry coast-jangling, barbaric, splendid
| things-nor sufficiency of gaudy cock
! atoos He always tricked his vessel out
in colors. and affected red handkerchiefs.
| u was his way. But of all the things
| which he brought home nothing was so
| astonishing, so riotous in color, and so
beautiful as the brocade he bought at the
| bazaar at Constantinople Of a merchant
| who told him a tale he could not UNDER
stand, and who undid the thing from
| many wrappings.
The warp of the silk was purple and the
wool of 1t was red. and all about it was
glory of changing, haunting shades. trac-
ing, finally. the immemorial pattern that
the Fasteners love-the pattern vulgar
| ly called the palm leaf. A tangle OF
climbing morning glories might have dis
| played colors al once as glorious and as
| Elusive as this fabric-or the mist in the
morning, looking down the valley from
Ouray-or the troDic sea when the sun
stats from the west 1nottled the waters
with indescribable glory.
Captain WEyant brought it home for his
daughters wedding gown, and his daugh-
ter being a white-faced little creature
with pale braids and tender, humid eyes.
She looked at the fabric as If 1t gave her
a sort of shock, and fairly flung it from
her, and it rustled along the floor like
a thing alive and defed her to condemn
its beauty. Indeed, after she was left
alone, Winifred turned with a half avert
ed gaze toward the silk and looked at
its splendors shyly. She was q quiet
little things, who had never been away
from her native towns, and who was
about to marry the young fellow who
lived next door. What she knew, text
books had taught her. Nay, that last
sentence is not just. She knew the scrip
lures, and the scriptures are not pale.
Unrealized by her their richness and elo-
quence had sunk into her nature and
had found there something responsive. 4
strain of luxury, such as that which ap-
peared in her fathers temperament, ran
through her cautious soul. So, looking
h. -, esYlr Oh !.
came fascinated with it, and II seemed
to express something within her. It's
bold, joyful splendor seemed like a de-
claration of liberty, and the pale girl,
staring at it, felt a vast nostalgia grow
within her for free laughter and true
love, and beauty and joy. She gathered
the silk up in her arms and wound it
about her and so ran TO the mirror with
1t to behold herself But the little deli
cate face looked piteous above this sun
set silk And with pain she let the rust
ling cloud of glory sink from her Later
when she folded 1t and laid it away in
a chest among her wedding things, It
was with a sort OF patient bitterness. She
knew her destiny for a pallid one. The
silk and what it stood for was not for
her.
T. to her daughter, and she told her the
thoughts she had had in her quiet girl
hood. The daughter gazed with compre-
bending eyes, and she, too, was envious
for the beauty and the boldness which
was not hers.
'I sometimes fancy" said her mother,
"just what sort of a woman could wear
this brocade. At first used to think
of a stately dark woman with a lofty
carriage of the head and magnificent
eyes. But now I kiowsit is the spirit
of the woman that matters, and that
the accident of hair and eyes and height
are immaterial I fear me no woman
of our race will ever have the courage
to wear this wondrous thing. Imogen."
IT don't know said Imogen, slowly.
at seems to me that I might almost
do it-almost, not quite"
Winnifred was an old woman and her
sight was dim, when, one day, out OF
the far West where Imogen had gone
when she married came a granddaughter
to visit her-the eldest daughter Of Imo-
gen. And no sooner had Winnifred's fall
ing eyes fastened themselves upon the
girl than she knew that at last. out OF
the aspirations of their hearts, a woman
had been born to the Scrantons who
could wear the fabric of great coloTs The
West had done it. The mountains and
the prairies had loosed the chains that
bound the souls of these grave women.
and in the face of the granddaughter
was the courage and the daring. the light
and joy for which the others had longed.
II was as If the ice-bound streams had
been released; or as If into the darkness
of a Northern night the streamers Of the
aurora, had appeared; or as IT, out OF
silence, triumpha1 music had been born
Winnifred arose trembling and reached
up and kissed her grandfather.
You are a new type. my dear child"
she said do they have many girls Ike
you out in the West?"
The young woman smiled radianth
Il hope I shall rot seem strange 20
you. dear grandma. Mother saws I am
just the way she wants me TO he. And
she told me TO deliver a message To you
the first thing I did II is a peculiar
message but I suppose vou will know
what IL means She says that she has
sent YOU a spirit 70 match the brocade."
The old gentleworan smiled.
1T did rot need the MESA &c" she
said and she pictured 10 herself the de-
light she would have Fl draping that
glowing June with the fabric Of purple
and red.
Mysterious Pass Word.
CFrorn Tit-Bits)
An a-,uzi~r exoa-fa1rA Of the RI r0-ez=