St. Landry clarion. (Opelousas, La.) 1890-1921, 1901-04-06

tAC CSGhlIS No1h, Auen iIlt DoN y os
asleep upstairs with rag dog Tor
his bed-fellow, Eliot took his wife out
toward the thin, low moon. AfteI.
walking long in silence
"You are not fit for work." he
said. sYon should
sit on cushion and sew fine seam.
And feast upon Strawberries -
MY sentimental giant!.' Laura IN
terrupted the classic rhyme. 4ou
know | don't care for that. You
know ] would gladly work my hands
to the bone if
Here it was, then, the speech which
would be better than silence. Yet
he found himself writfing under it,,
"Out with it, little girl he urged
her to finish.
Il would starve, dear, if YOU would
only take up your modelling. ] would
die for that
Hush | know" said Eliot, fright
ened by her zeal.
She had felt it long ago. This stren-
uous ambition, from the days when
he used to make soldiers with his fa-
theirs clay.
And he had always Jagged behind
her ardor, apprehend it vaguely as
the shadow on his vision of the beau
ty of life. She believed in his power,
she was goading him on to a great
career, and he-with every urgent
touch he felt less inclined to hasten.
Some day the purpose lay deep
and silent in his soul-some day he
would take up his fathers tools and
light the fires in that kiln he had built
for experiments Of his own. He was
dreaming of it all the time. Spasmod-
lcally he had worked at it. astonishing
those artistic friends of his in town
with bits Of sculpture and pottery;
yes, and kindling a fire in his wife's
eyes, winging her heart like birds.
But the kiln had been cold for
months, and the tools untouched.
And her eyes had been dull, too,
though she had said not word IN
til now.
9 Nature battles us SO, he pleaded.
"How can We hope to match the love-
illness of that?" and he pointed west
ward over the mist-shadowed mead
oW toward the dim green Of the sky.
: You will waste your lifein dream
ing she sighed, "and the world will
be no richer for your genius. Oh, my
husband, how can you be happy sofv
So he neryed himself for another
spurt Of artistic energy, and this time
his friends in city studios gathered
about the strange glazes and plaster
studies he sent them, and thumbed
them affectionately, and covered
them with the slang of praise, and
wrote back that he was an original
of the first water and must keep right
On. But the fires went out as before,
and again the months rolled on and
found him content with the ploW and
the reaper, with the changing splen-
doris Of the spacious world, with the
quiet happiness of his life.
1t was then that his great trouble
came upon him.
He scarcely discovered Laura's
cough and her increasing weakness
before the physicians plunged him
into black terror.
He scraped and borrowed money
md took her south with the boy. and
lursed her through weeks Of swift
" waning strength.
Gradually the world faded from
Ter eyes, and her will cast off its eager
Energy, and the new life seemed to
commence before the veil was drawn
oyer the old. How strange, how beau
iful it was, that gradual exaltation
# the soul. Eliot Morse walked
through wonderland days, through
y g. = 49, -. 4
Tague, supernal lights and shadows
illed with splendid color. And the
orrow at his heart was but aykeener
oy.
One day she awoke from a .ftful
leep, and nerved herself to speak.
1T doesn't make any difference
Il that | used to long for she Whis-
'ered, huskily. ou-you forgive
ne?o
He bowed over her with sweet, soft
lords of protest.
2 matter she said; nothing
matters. That's ALL
And for hours they elasped each |
Ither, motionless.
4 few days afterward she died. /
sHot Morse took the faded flower
,ack home and gave it to the earth. |
While the vision Of her passing soul
ias still an ecstasy within him, he
It the fires in the kiln and took out /
is tools. 1t.did not matter-she was
ight; she had OWNED the truth at