The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1900-01-05
me Story d Oil AIIiCQl FuII[l.
BY OLIVE soHREINBR.
[CoNTINuED.l

stand. The thoughts were new to him.
But this was the fellows startled Joy
in the booll-the thoughts were his;
! they belonged to him. He had never
/ thought them before. but they were
| his.
He laughed silently and internally,
with the still intensity of triumphant
| joy.
! So, then, all thinking creatures did
not send up the one cry: GAS thou
dear Lord, hast created things in the
beginning, so are they now, so ought
they to be, so will they be, world with
out end, and it doesn't concern us what
they are. Amen" There We're men
to whom not only "kopjes" and stones
were calling out imperatively, what
are we, and how came we here? I'm
derstand us and know us" but towhom
even the old. old relations between
man and man and the customs of the
ages called and could not be made still
and forgotten.
The boys heavy body quivered with
excitement. So he was not alone, not
alone. He could not quite have told
any one why he was so glad and this
warmth had come to him. His cheeks
| were burning. No wonder that Bona
! parte called in vain and Doss put his
paws on the ladder and whined till
| three-quarters of an hour had passed.
At last the boy put the book in his
breast and buttoned it tightly to him.
| He took up the salt pot and went to
the top of the ladder. Bonaparte, with
| his hands folded under his coattails,
looked up when he appeared and ac-
costed him.
! you've been rather long time up
there, my lad" he said as the boy de-
scended with tremulous haste, most
unlike his ordinary slow movements.
''You didn't hear me calling, 1 sup
pose?"
Bonaparte whisked the tails of his
coat up and down as he looked at him.
He (Bonaparte Blenkins) had eyes
which were very farseeing. He looked
at the pot 1t was rather small pot
to have taken three-quarters Of an
hour in the filling. he looked at the
face. 1t was flushed. And yet Tant'
Sannie kept no wine. He had not
been drinking. His eyes were wide
open and bright. He had not been
sleeping. There was no girl up there.
He had not been making love. Be-
naparte looked at him sagaciously.
What would account for the marvellous
change in the boy coming down the
ladder from the boy going up the lad
der? One thing there was. Did not
Tant' Sannie keep in the loft "bul-
tongs" and nice smoked sausages?
There must be something nice to eat
up there. Aha! That was it!
Bonapate was so interested in car
rying out this chain of inductive rea-
soning that he quite forgot to have his
| boots BACKED
He watched the boy shuttle off with
the snlt pot under his arm Then he
stood in his doorway and raised his
eyes to the quiet blue sky and audibly
propounded this riddle to himself:
"What is the connection between the
naked back of certain boy with a
greatcoat on and a salt pot under his
arm and the tip of a horsewhip? An
swer: No connection at present, but
there will be soon.'
Bonaparte was so pleased with this
sally of his wit that he chuckled a lit
tie and went to lie down on his bed.
There was bread baking that after
noon, and there was a fire lighted in
the brick oven behind the house, and
Tant Sannie had left the great wood
en- elbowed chair in which she passed
her life and waddled out to look at it,
Not far off was Waldo, who, having
thrown pail of food into the pigsty,
now leaned over the sod wall looking
at the pigs. Half of the sty was dry,
but the lower half was pool of mud,
on the edge of which the mother SOW
lay with closed eyes, her ten little ones
sucking. The father pig, knee deep in
the mud, stood running his snout into
rotten pumpkin and wriggling his
curled tail.
Waldo wondered dreamily as he
stared why they were pleasant to look
at. Taken singly, they were not beau
tiful; taken together, they were. Was
1t not because there was a certain har-
mony about them? The old sow vas
suited to the little pigs and the little
pigs to their mother, the old boar to
the rotten pumpkin and all to the mud.
They suggested the thought of nothing
that should be added, of nothing that
should be taken away. And, he won
dered on vaguely, was not that the
secret of all beauty, that you who look
on So he stood dreaming and leaned
farther and farther over the sod wall
and looked at the pigs.
All this time Bonaparte Blenkins was
sloping down from the house in an
aimless sort of way, but he kept one
eye fixed Oh the pigsty, and each gyra-
ton brought him nearer to it. Waldo
stood like thing asleep when Bona
parte came close up to him.
In old days, when a small boy play
ing in an Irish street gutter he Bona
parte) had been Familiarity known
among his comrades under the title of
tripping Ben this from the rare ease
and dexterity with which, by merely
projecting his foot he could nraoinito+a