Barton County democrat. [volume] (Great Bend, Kan.) 1885-1915, 1901-04-26
'sMESQUITE''
BY lDAn M. sTRoBRIDas.

MISS GLENDOWER sat on the
M ranch house piazza, shading her
eyes from the white glare of the sun
by holding above them-in beautiful,
beringed fingers-the last number of
a Boston magazine. 1t was all very
new and delightful to her, this
strange, unfinished country; and each
day developed fresh charm. AS a
spectacle it was perfect-the very
desolation and silence of the desert
stirred something within her that the
Back bay had never remotely reused.
Viewed from the front row of the
dress circle, nothing could be more
fascinating to her art-loving sense
than this simple, wholesome life lived
out as nature teaches. and to feel
that, for the time, the big, conven-
tional world of wise insincerities was
completely shut away behind those
far, purple mountains out of which
rose the morning desert sun.
AS for becoming an integral part
of all this ones self-Ah, that was a
different matter! The very thought
of her cousin Blanche and her hus-
band, Roy Madison, deliberately turn
ing their backs on the refnements of
higher civilization, and accepting
the daily drudgery and routine of
life on a cattle ranch, filled her with
wondering amazement. When she fell
to specializing on what their future
years might be, she shuddered. From
the followed sole of her modishly
booted foot to the crown of her sleek
and perfectly poised little head, Miss
Glendower was Bostonian.
But for the short space of time
that she waited Lawrence Irving's
coming, the life here was full of
charm for her-its ways were allur-
ing; and not the least among its
destinations was Mesquite" She
smiled amusedly at the tall cowboys
utter Inconsistencies in there being
any social difference between them:
at his simple acception of her notice.
Miss Glendower was finding vast en-
tertainment in his honest-hearted, I'M
disguised alteration. She had come
west for experiences, and one of the
first-and decidedly the most exciting
and interesting-had been found in
Mesquite. Besides, it gave her some
thing to write of when she sent her
weekly letter to Lawrence Irving. She
sometimes found writing to him bit
of a bore when topics were wanting.
But Mesquite! The boy was n
revelation of surprises every day.
There was no boredom where he was.
Amusing; yes, that was the word.
There he was now, crossing the bare
and hard-beaten square of gray earth
that lay between the ranch house and
the corrals. Though he was looking
beyond the piazza to where the other
boys were driving "bunch" of bel
lowing, dust-stirring cattle into an
Enclosure, yet she felt it was she
whom his eyes saw. He was coming
straight toward the house-and her.
THAT, she knew. Miss Glendower
knew many things--learned in the
varied experience of her eight-and-
twenty years. Her worldly wisdom
was more-much more-than his
would be at double his age. Mesquite
was 20.
He looked up with unconcealed
pleasure in her presence as he seated
himself on the piazza-swinging his
spurred heels against each other,
while he leaned his head back against
one of the pillars. Miss Glendower's
eyes rested on the burned, boyish
ldCc WIFI 4HSIC was SOIlIC-
thing so naive, so sweetly childish
about him. It was simply delicious
to hear his Eyes, ma'am," or his
which," Just now his yellow hair
lay in little damp rings on his fore
head, like baby's just Weakened from
sleep. He sat with his big sombrero
showed back from forehead guiltless
of tan or freckles as the petals of a
D,,A ~
his face was roughened by wind and
burned by the sun to an 1ndian-red
making his blue eyes the bluer-those
great, babyish eyes that looked out
with belying innocence from under
their marvellous fringes of up-curlins
1ashes. The blue eyes were well uset
to looking upon sights that would
have shocked Miss Glendower's New
England training; and the babyisf
lips we:e quite familiar with languag.
that would have made her pale will
horror and disgust to hear. But, then
she didn't know. Neither could h,
have understood her standpoint.
He was only the product of his en-
vironment, and sone Of the best thing
it had taught him was to have no dis
guises. So he sat to-day. cooking III
at his lady with all his love shown:
in his face. And so he rode beside he
that night. as the days red ball o
burning wrath dropped down benin,
the western desert rim of their ittl
world; across sand hills that openet
sweet flowers to the night wind
touch; and across barren alkali fat
to the post Office, half dozen mile
away.
There was only one letter for Mis-
G--ndower that night. 1t began:
81 will be with you, my darling. "A hour
after you get this. Just one day more