Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1900-01-06
EIiPIEsR
CHAPTER \.
The Last Night in February.

The last night in February came upon us,
n night ever memorable to all of us who
had been affected by the sad death of Sir
james Stanstieid. 1t was the very day set
for the execution of my father in Edin-
burgh. and We hoped for news in the morn
ing.
1 had been over all day at the mills of
Tmphray SpUrway. where. finding he could
not prevent my coming about him. the Eng
Iishman had set William Bowman TO give
me lessons. together with the little tangle-
haired maiden. Anna Mark 1t was work
that William Bowman liked well enough
For not only was ne a good scholar, but ne
was glad to be quit of the thankless task
of experimenting the workers in the mill
for the best part of an afternoon.
Then when it began to grow dark I'M
phray Spurway took me by the hand and
We went gladsomely together over to the
little house among the pines where my
mother dwelt At first the Englishman
talked easily and answered all my ques-
tons of which as is the wont of boys, /
asked very many and of very foolish sort.
But as we neared the cottage of the Yeti
Umphray he waxed silent. and when he re-
piled al all his words were mostly spoken
al random
1t had already all the promise of a wild
night Overhead the scud was riding east
ward. fiecked and Sullen. yet going faSt as
spume on raging tide race. Lower a INN
almost invisible. mist steamed along the
land and comhed itself through the trees
like long blown maidens hair. The reeh
of the lum rose from the hearthstone
through the rafterS up to the outer ar
peep-d once over the chimneyS. and then
with sidelung dive sped eastward also
down the wind Spite of all this it was not
vet dark. and sometimes in the bright
blirks the sun himself looked slantwise
through the forest aisles and ruled the
shadows Of the tall trunks black on last
years leaves. blue on the few half-melted
wreathS of the winter SHOWS | did not no.
tice all these things at the time, but they
come back to me now as all the natural
surroundings of my boyhood are wont TO
do. with vivid and even startling clearness-
For about this time l used to be haunted
with a fear lest l should forget or, as 1t
were. grow out Of myself. and as the years
Went past become some other person. Why
I was so anxious To keep my personality
know not But the case stood 50 in my
mind For instance, l remember well a
close fence Of split pines which extended
from the back Of the great house of New
AI.InS TO the waterside of Esk. 1t was,
perhaps 4np or 900 feet in length. and the
pale~ were set exceedingly close together.
Yet l made It my business to know every
several one Of them by headmark back
and front, all the green mold on the split
side. the blush rotted places where the wet
had se-ped in. the clear yellow blObs of the
resin running like tears down the bark.
And know them l did, back and front,
above and below. l could bind my own
eyes and wander till l laid my hand on a
pa,ing stop. cautiously uplift the corner of
the handkerchief. take my marks. and then
run over 10 myself on the next two or three
OF either side Of me. there still unseen In
all this there was no apparent advantage
TO myself. nor, indeed, hope of any. But
the experiment may be accepted as typical
Of the many trials I made of my memory
al that time. y year OF two afterward,
having other things 10 think about, I
cared no jnt for all the splt-pine fences in
the countryside.
Well. az l say I went skipping home to
my mother by Umphray Spurway's side
prUpounGing innunera bic questions and not
listening to one answer in twenty. During
the latter half of the walk, however, both
question and answer We're mostly blown
away by the wind, which disconnected me
nothing, for 1 was in high glee at bringing
my mother so desirable a visitor
When We came to the door of the lodge
Yeti knocked and heard cd Caleb Clink-
absrry withdraw the bolts, clearing the
rust from the hOldfasts of the iron rods
and his own throat Of the rOOpy weather
at the same time
Come thy ways. Measter Phil; thy
mother hath been in a rare takin' about
thee. Eth, Measter Spurway; an she will
be glad 10 see thysen."
And so, hobbling forward with eager po-
likeness, mixed with an under grumble of
complaint concerning his standing for that
ancient "lO0m-bagu In the back" our old
English servant led the way 10 where my
mother was sitting, looking younger and
prettier than ever l had seen her In the
room that looks 10 the west through a kind
o. long alley cut out among the pines The
sunshine Tor something else was red on
her cheek as she jumped up a sight of her
guest, and, letting all her embroidery stuff
fd,I in a futtering cloud she gave T-mnbrav
Spurway her hand. never looking al him
nor saying a word save to scold me for he
ing such a trouble in bringing the gentle
man all the way hither on so cold night
oh. he does not think that" l said: ..he
was as anxious to come as a cat il 10 SOC
her kittens"
And after that I had all the talk to my
self for some time
Emphray Spurway sat down or a chair
by the fire at my mothers invitation md
IN turn he asked her not to make a
stranger OF him. but TO 20 on with her ero-