The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1900-12-13

VI uIyluS grasses anu WeGQS. Among
the trees the gay banners of autumn
Haunted among the duller colors OF the
leaves already dead. In the under
brush the crickets sung sad requiem
for the season just drawing to close
"a chant for the dying summer. The
sky was blue. deep turquoise. such as
only the skies in mountainous coun-
try show in November. ALI nature
was gorgeous in crimson and yellow
and gold, as. though dressed for the
final review Of summers glories.
Only one more mile! Every stone
and tree was now familiar to him,
every turn and brook was fraught with
some happy remembrance His heart
began to beat wildly. Would she meet
him at the gate, and be glad to see
him? She had told him she would,
when she last came to the prison, years
before. OF course she woodland the
| children. they void run to meet him
and kiss him as they did in the oldeD
days.
| 1t was just around the turn, only a
few steps further, and he would see the
little home with its vine-clad piazza,
;:-ad the flowers, growing in the yard.
and-her standing at the gate, waiting,
For fifteen years he had longed for this
moment, and now that it had come,
he dared not go around the bend OF
the road--his heart was torn with
doubts and fears
He sat down to rest and collect his
thoughts. He was faint and sick, he
had eaten nothing all day and the long
walk up to mountain had almost ex-
hausted him. Pulling all his energies
together, he staggered around the bend
Of the road. He was afraid to raise his
eyes until he had reached the gate
Then he did SO.
There was no house there.
Only a heap of rubbish and ruin, and
tangled thicket of blackberry briars
and bushes and decaying weeds. He
leaned against a fence post and in 8
dazed sort Of way tried to understand
The house was but pile of rottine
logs, the fences were gone and his
family-God only knew where they
were. He staggered to the waste O.
weeds and briars and sat down on thu
block of stone that once had served a!
a doorstep.
The afternoon waned and the shad
ows grew long. The sunlight cam,
slantingly down and gilded and glori
fed everything it touched. A rabbi
d hoped timidly near and gazed at tn
silent, bowed figure in tremulous won
i derment. A lizard lay upon one of tn
logs of the house, and basked it's gilt
tering sides in the mellow rays of tn
sun. Longer and longer grew tn
shadows, and at last the god Of da.
sunk down beyond the western noun
tain tops. Night slowly crept owe
earth, and the moon rose in autumna
brightness and threw its rays upon tn
lonely figure sitting with bowed heal
amid the gloomy ruins Of a forme
home. A whip-poor-will began to SIM
it's lonely song from distant hilltop
and an owl hooted querulouslv from
nearby thicket- Is 4
n At last the man arose. There was
little stunted marigold growing nea
the doorstep. He picked one or two o
the blossoms and put them in hi
bosom, and as he bent over the ston
where he had been sitting a tea
dropped from his eyes and plashe
upon the insensate rock. He gave on
more look at the ruins, and then start
ed down the mountain. On and on b
went, never stopping. never lookin
back.
The village lay in darkness below
Through it he passed, never once turn
ing his head. When the moon wa
hanging like silver globe in the fal
wan west, railroad train came rush
ing through the darkness like som
fiery serpent, and stopped moment a
the little station. A black figure go
aboard and took a seat in dim cor
ner Of the car.
At last the train arrived in the city
The figure skunk away through tn
gray dawn toward the prison. TIL
warden was awakened by a fain
pounding; upon the grim door. H
went down and opened it. A man la
prone upon the doorstep.
"Who are you?" asked the warden.
II am Number Twenty three. TAX