The Scranton chronicle. (Scranton, Miss.) 1897-19??, 1901-04-13
OUT OF THE CLAY.
BY HARRIET MONROE.


Eot dull content, but joy possessed
i'm as he plowed and sowed and
|eaped through the long, rich years,
Dreaming over the changing colors of
bis meadows. As far back as he could
Remember, his summers had passed
n the old place, and here his IA
3her had lived and wrought. His
%atherl the thought of that high
lineage gilded the joy of his
fe with pride. For Jonathan
Iorse had been a great man in
is day, day too short-alasl AT
. this gay young sculptor, with or
ers thick upon him, had left a colos-
hl Washington half finished in the
play when Abraham Lincoln called
the north to arms. And after he had
helped to win the four-years' fight,
Pfter he had followed Sherman to the
yea and led his battery down Pennsyl-
ania avenue in that stupendous last
feview, he had gone back to his studio
nd modelled another and a finer
Washington.
Onlyseven years ago-Eliot quailed
little as he counted them-had been
iyen to his father after this in which
b achieve his fame--a fame which
ime, SO destructive to other mid
entury regulations in arts, was mag
ifying day by day. ''He cannot be
Prgotten," thought Eliot, as he
alked homeward over the dusky
lids; "he was a man and a poet
hlch OF these modern modelers has
Fed and thought like that?"
And Eliot looked back over the ten
fars which had passed since that sud
en- death. He was boy Of 19 when
be change came. He took the farm
hd titled it for his mother and sis
4, since time and money were lack
g for the further study of art. And
hen his mother died and his sister
edded, he married his early love. 1t
|ade him smile to remember how
Pany city suitors-yes, and wealthy
es-felt the gnawing of old pangs
hen he bore her away. But she was
Rppy in this modest home-this SIM
& llfe--he was sure Of that. Happy
yes-if only
But he smothered rising con-
lousness of one flaw in her fate:
led to bury it beyond the reach of
ought, which was always, neverthe-
s, vaguely aware of the discomfort
it. He could not bear to feel that
y defect in him made her life inn
rfect. She had no wish for lux
y, he knew that well enough;
ough soft life was one of his
cams for her, and the sight of her
oklng or sweeping gave him keen
lnges of self-reproach. She was dis
pointed in him-had not he felt
g gradual change since the day
pen she had staked all on her love
q falth' He was not living up to
i desire.
The dull rose and violet of twilight
opened unperceived about him. For
hour life dragged its leaden senses
lead OF marching to the thrill of
'slc. II she would only speak out
grievance, he sighed-how much
re Keen is silencel
1e saw her busy in the kitchen as
ofew near the open door, and the
Oh her brow and hair brought
\ OF a sudden the sharp suspense
ms days of wooing. He lifted her
n up IN his great arms as though
make sure Of her, and tried to
row oil his guilty mood. Little
nathan pattered back and forth,
KING a great show of helping his
otner, until Eliot took him on his
ee and chartered softly with him
duet Of musical voices. A big,
ntle creature was this father, who
9 not yet outgrown his childhood,
4 who explored like a native the
ys wonderland Of play. And while
wandered in it tonight, his eyes
ple with delight to Laura, and
'ched sensitively her quiet ease and
&C., He felt the rapture Of her
- was he wasting it? = and