Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1900-05-17

and birds were almost grotesque in
their labored resemblance to nature
and bore signs of patient thought.
The stranger turned the thing over on
his knee.
/ "Where did you learn this work?'
81 taught myself"
"And these zigzag lines represent
"a mountain
! The stranger looked.
! at has some meaning, has it not"
/ The boy muttered confusedly:
"Only things"
The Gucstioner looked down at him
! the huge. unwieldy figure, in size n
mans. in right of its childlike fea-
lures and curling hair n child's-and it
| hurt him. 1t attracted him, and it
hurt him. 1t was something between
pity and sympathy.
How long have you worked at
this?'
mine months"
From his pocket the stranger drew
| his pocketbook and took something
! from it, He could fasten the post to
| his horse in some way and throw it
away in the sand when st safe dis
| tance.
"WiI you take this for your cary
ing?"
The boy glanced at the 20 note and
shook his head.
NO; cannot"
"You think it is worth more? asked
| the stranger, with little sneer
He pointed with his thumb to a
grave.
'No it is for him."
"And who is there?" asked the stran-
ger.
"My father"
The man silently returned the note
| to his pOcketbook and gave the cary
| ing to the boy and, drawing his hat
over his eyes, composed himself to
sleep Not being able to do so, after
awhile he glanced over the fellows
shoulder to watch him work. The boy
| carved letters into the back.
If" said the stranger, with his
melodiOus voice, rich with n sweetness
| that never showed itself in the clouded
eyes, for sweetness will linger on in
| the voice after it has died out in the
| eyes-''if for such a purpose, why
write that upon it?'
The boy glanced at him, but made
| no answer He had almost forgotten
| his presence.
You surely believe" said the stran-
ger, that some day, sooner or later,
| these graves will open and those Boer
uncles with their wives walk about
here in the red sand with the very
| fleshly legs with which they went to
sleep? Then why say, He sleeps for
ever? You believe he will stand up
again.
DO you" asked the boy, lifting for
an instant his heavy eyes to the stran-
| gers face.
Half taken aback, the stranger laugh
ed. 1t was as though n curious little
| tadpole which he held under his glass
should suddenly lift its tail and begin
| to question him.
81? No" He laughed his short,
| thick laugh. 81 am n man who be-
| lieves nothing, hopes nothing, fears
nothing, feels nothing. l am beyond
the pale of humanity, no criterion of
WudI you SuOulu De MHO INc mere
| among your ostriches and bushes"
The next moment the stranger was
surprised by n sudden movement on
| the part of the fellow, which brought
him close to the strangers feet. Soon
after he raised his carving and laid it
pcross the mans knee.
yes, l will tell you," he muttered;
'I will tell you all about It."
He put his finger on the grotesque
little manikin at the bottom (ah, that
| man who believed nothing, hoped moth
| ing, felt nothing-how he loved HIND,
| and with eager finger the fellow moved
upward, explaining over fantastic fig
ures and mountains, to the crowning
bird from whose wing dropped 4 feath-
er. At the end he spoke with broken
breath-short words, like one who ut
| ters things of mighty import
The stranger watched more the face
| than the carving, and there was now
and then n show of white teeth be-
| meath the mustaches as he listened.
81 think" he said blandly when the
boy had done, that l partly under
stand you. 1t is something after this
| fashion, is it not?" He smiled. "In
certain valleys there was a hunter"
He touched the grotesque little figure
ut the bottom. Day by day he went
to hunt for wild fowl in the woods, and
it CHANGED that once he stood on the
shores of a large lake. While he stood
waiting in the ruSheS for the coming
Of the birds great shadow fell on
him, and in the water he saw a re-
Election. He looked up to the sky, but
the thing was gone. Then a burning
desire, came over him to see once again
that reflection in the water, and all
day he watched and waited, but night
| rame, and it had not returned. Then
he went home with his empty bag,
moody and silent. His comrades came
questioning about him to know fthe rea-
son, but he answered them nothing.
He sat alone and brooded. Then his
| friend came to him, and to him he
spoke.
az have seen today he said that
which l never saw before-a vast white
bird, with silver wings outstretched,
sailing in the everlasting blue. And
now it is as though great fire burned
WlJnlu my breast. II WIS out II Slecu,
simmer, reelection in the water,
but now 1 desire nothing more on earth
than to hold her.
His friend laughed.
"'It was but beam playing on the
water or the shadow of your own head.
Tomorrow you will forget her. he said.
"But tomorrow and tomorrow and
tomorrow the hunter walked alone. He
sought in the forest and in the woods,
by the lakes and among the rushes,
but he could not find her. Hesshot no
more wild fowl What were they to
him?
"'What alls himY saidihis comrades.
"'He is mad said one.
No; but he is worse said another.
He would see that which none of us
have seen and make himselfia wonder
"'Come, let us forswear ghis compa-
n.y. said all.
80 the hunter walked alone.
zone night, as he wandered in the
shade, very heartsore and weeping. an
old man stood before him, grander and
taller than the sons of men.
"'Who are. your asked the hunter.
"I am WISDOM answered the ola
man, but some men gcalled me Knowl-
edge. All my life l have grown in
these valleys, but 10 man sees me till
Il