The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1900-01-12

large WoOuen post covered WITH cary
lngs, at which he worked. Doss lay
before him basking in the winter sun
shine and now and again casting an ex-
pectant glance at the corner Of the
nearest ostrich camp. The scrubby
thorn trees under which they lay yield
ed no shade, but none was needed in
that glorious June weather, when in
the hottest part Of the afternoon the
sun was but pleasantly warm. And
the boy carved on, not looking up, yet
conscious of the brown serene earth
about him and the intensely blue sky
above.
Presently, at the corner Of the camp,
EN- appeared, bearing a covered saucer
in one hand and in the other a jug with
a cup on the top. She was grown into
q premature little old woman of 16,
ridiculously fat. The jug and saucer
she put down on the ground before
the dog and his master and dropped
down beside them herself, painting and
out of breath.
waldo, as l came up the camps l
met some L on horseback, and l do
believe it must be the new man that is
coming"
The new man was an Englishman to
whom the Boer woman had hired half
the farm.
"Hum!" said Waldo.
81 is quite young" said EN-, holding
her side, and he has brown hair and
beard curling close to his face and
s,',ch dark blue eyes. And, Waldo, l
VAS SO ashamed! l was just looking
be- K to see. you know, and he hap
pened just to be looking back, too, and
we looked right into each others face,
and he got red, and l got so red. l be-
lieve he is the new man."
eyes," said Waldo.
II must so now. Perhaps he has
brought us letters from the post from
! Lyndall. You know, she can't STAY at
eschool much longer. She must come
back soon. And the new man will
have to stay with us till his house is
built. l nus get his room ready.
I Goodbye
She tripped off again, and Waldo
carved on at his post. Doss lay with
his nose close to the covered saucer
and smelled that some one had made
nice little fat cakes that afternoon.
Both We're so intent on their occupa.
ton that not till a horse's hoofs beat
beside them in the sand did they look
up to see a rider drawing in his steed.
He was certainly not the stranger
whom En- had described, a dark, m
What French looking little man of
elght md twenty, rather stout, with
heavy, cloudy eyes and pointed mus
taches. His horse was a iery crea.
lure, well caparisoned. A highly fin
ished 'saddlebag hung from the saddle.
The mans hands were gloved, and he
presented the appearance-an appear
ance rare Oh that farm-of a well
dressed gentleman.
In an uncommonly melodious voice
he inquired whether he might be al
lowed to remain there for an hour.
Waldo directed him to the farmhouse.
but the stranger declined. He would
merely rest under the trees and give
his horse water. He removed the sad
die, and Waldo led the animal away to
the dam. When he returned, the
stranger had settled himself under the
trees, with his back against the sad
die. The boy offered him of the cakes.
He declined, but took q draft from
the jug, and Waldo lay down not far
OF and fell to work again. 1t mat
tered nothing if cold eyes saw it. 1t
was not his sheep shearing machine.
With material loves, as with human,
we go mad once, love out and have
done. We never get up the true en-
thusiasm q second time. This was but
a thing he had made, labored over, low
ed and liked, nothing more-not his
machine.
The stranger forced himself lower
down in the saddle and yawned. It
! was a drowsy afternoon, and he object
ed to travel in these out of the world
parts. He liked better civilized life,
where at every hour Of the day a man
may look for his glass Of wine and his
easy chair and paper; where at night
he may lock himself into his room with
his books and a bottle Of brandy and
taste joys mental and physical. The
world said to him-the all knowing,
omnipotent world, whom no locks can
bar, who has the catlike propensity of
seeing best in the dark-the world said
that better than the books he loved
the brandy and better than books or
brandy that which it had been better
had he loved less. But for the world
he cared nothing. He smiled blandly
In it's teeth. All life is a dream. If
wine and philosophy and women keep
the dream from becoming q nightmare,
so much the better. 1t is all they are
tit for, all they can be used for. There
was another side to his life and
thought, but of that the world knew
nothing and said nothing, as the way
of the wise world is.
The stranger looked from beneath
his sleepy eyelids at the brown earth
that stretched away, beautiful in spite
Of itself, in that June sunshine; looked
at the graves, the gables OF the farm
house showing yer the stone walls OF
the camps, at the clownish fellow at
his feet, and yawned. But he had