The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1901-08-07

"4uo" at the sunset painting GRIM
son the leaves in the orchard
"All right, john" replied the wom-
| an, her voice trembling. IL suppose
| it's for the best"
She began clearing away the dishes
| from the table and John walked out
into the evening air. drowsy with the
hum of insects and fragrant with the
breath of blossoms.
AS he passed the kitchen he heard
the crash of a shattered dish. CHANGING
in at the door, he saw his wife gazing
at broken plate at her feet Her
hands were shaking and a tear fell
upon her apron.
I. He performed his usual evening
chores in silence and then returned to
the house. He did not enter at the
kitchen, as was his custom, but walked
slowly around the house to the front
stoop. AS he turned the corner he heard
sound that made him pause.
On the doorstep, her thin face buried
in her rough brown hands, her dark
/ hair falling in confusion around her
| neck and shoulders, her whole body
quivering with the emotion she could
no longer control, sat his wife. 49,
He stood and watched her in silence.
He saw her bend forward and kiss the
imprint of the baby's hand upon the
door and heard her sob: "Oh, God, how
can l leave my baby's little finger
marks behind!"
A lump came into his throat He
pulled the rim of his hat down. over
his eyes and softly retraced his steps.
Then he took a circuitous route
through the orchard, emerging finally
upon the main road.
A man, driving gray horse, was la
boriously climbing the hill, and +. he
went to meet him. The two talked to-
gether awhile and then the man with
the gray horse turned around and
drove down the hill.
Through the dusk and the starlight
John again walked up the lane that
led from the main road. He entered the
gate and passed up the path to the
front stoop, where woman was sit
ting. He laid his big, rough hand ten
derby upon her shoulder and looked
down into her eyes.
Mary" he said, 1--WE decided not to
sell the place, after all. Don't believe
l would like Twin in town. Seems to
me, I'd missile turned and glanced
at the door where the baby's finger
marks were barely discernible in the
gathering twilight-"the wild roses and
the turtle doves and the medder larks.
There amt no place for livih' like the
country, Mary, is there?"
She smiled at him through her sud
den tears. Her face grew radiant with
the white light of a great thankfulness
and her eyes shone behind their drip
ping ashes.
He stopped and kissed her and she
put her hand in his and they sat in
silence and looked across the fields and
heard the beetles booming through the
dusk and the distant bark of a dog.
In the edge of one of the many pros
porous mining towns that dot the Des
Moines river valley in Iowa stands a
mansion epcircled by lawn that SHIN
mers like a waveless sea kof emerald
under the summer sun. In the rear are
gardens that fill the air with their per-
fumes and form aspleasing background
for the closely cropped clover.
Rose vines Chamber over the balcony
on the west in luxurious profusion,
and, in June, their blossoms hang
their blushing heads as though con-
scious of their own beauty. Giant
oaks and elms stretch forth their
branches. casting deep shadows on the
sward and everywhere are the hum of
insects and the song of birds.
This mansion is of imposing archf4
lecture of the Roman types, and its
beauty has ben greatly augmented by
the decorator, who selected his colors
so artistically that there is not harsh
line or displeasing- effect upon the en-
tire structure-excepting only one door
The other doors are deliberately
carved; are heavy and high and broad,
and rival the finest of mirrors in the
gloss of their hard oil finish. But this
door is low and narrow and dingy. 1t
is extremely plain and is finished in
the old fashioned granting. 1t sadly
shows the effects of the sun and the
rains and the wear and tear of time,
but upon one of it's panels is plainly
discernible the outlines of a baby's
hands.
If you ask the owner of the man
sion, he will tell you as he told me,
how this baby's hand kept him from
selling his farm many years ago; he
will tell you that week after he came
so near parting with his old home a
rich vein of coal was discovered upon
his land, and that his magnificent
mansion was dug out of the ground.
And if you take occasion to refer to
the beauty of his home, he will say
Eyes, Mary and me think we have
pretty nice place here, but what we.
set the most store by is that old-fash-
toned door there, for -" and ahis voice
will grow soft and immeasurably ten
der-"little Helen's hand is a-reachin'
to us out OF the past"