The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1901-10-06

protected on the east by q rugged moor
land, green with peat boys and gray with
granite, where the wind is always COM
planning in the withered reeds and the
streams which feed the torrent in steep
valley are never still.
1t was about 4 o'clock on a lovely after
noon in May when Frillers walked along
the broad, sunny streets OF Furcombe. Be-
hind him lay the sweep OF the great moor,
the granite tops OF the hills glowing in the
blue and gold Of the hour. Around him the
air was sweet with apple and pear blossom
and the breath OF the spring.
Standing near the church porch under a
chestnut tree, white with blossoms, was a
baker carrying a basket OF comfortable
brown loaves. Him Frillers asked where
Mrs. Pyke lived, and learnt that At Fur
combe the Pykes were many, but that one
Mrs. Pyke. who had a Diapers shop. lived
In Elm street, Just across the churchyard.
out O. the cate yonder."
Frillers, finding a luxurious sense OF en-
joyment in his search, followed the lads
directions.
Elm street was shaded by a row OF tall
elms; beyond was a strip OF greenest grass,
bright with the gold Of buttercups: then
came the river bank and the murEnur OF
water gliding over rounded powders.
1t was a Street to dream dreams in: not
for carrying on "a business yet several
little low-bTowed houses, swallowed up in
the vernal ,luxuriance of their gardens,
boosted sho5 fronts. Above one OF these
ran the Legend "Pyke, late Parker, Hosier
and Draperi' behind the narrow pAnes in
the green light altering through the elm
tops was tie usual rustic display OF ties
and collars. straw hats for either sex. and
articles of millinery. And then Trillers,
remembering that he had posted letters
for Miss Vincent addressed TO MIR. Parker.
Elm street, ~iFurcombe," grasped the sit
uation.
The beaut. of the spring afternoon, the
murmur Of .he river, the dreamful atmos-
phere of tht quiet place seemed 10 him
merely a charming setting to add beauty
to the drama I'm which he moved.
He entered the little shop; the bell rang
as the door opened. A fair-haired woman
in black adfanced to the counter and
looked at hip.
Don't yoUi know me?" said he.
Mrs. Pyke ~istarted.
"Why it's,Mr. Frilers." she exclaimed.
After a Shot silence she added, Il often
wondered what had become Of you. But
come into ttse parIor."
He followed her into the room OF which
the windows:Iooked into an apple orchard.
white with blossom. Here he sat down
and told her his adventures. adding only
a slight embroidery from his fancy TO give
il the necessary picturesqueness.
When he had finished she said. Poor Mr..
FriIers. WHY. you are no better OF than
six years ado. when you saw me of al
Eastbeacon.
Il am richer by my experience he re-
piled. feeling sthat he was about to be flung
back on the :ocks OF disillusion.
We'll! l ONLY hope youn find a market
for it,. said .Irs. Pyke. in a practical voice
suggesting doubt.
Though hef manner was kind. the old
melancholy watch the impact against real
ity excited sgan to descend upon him.
Suddenly IL .eemed 20 him that he had
moved round; in a l~istless circle from the
collapse Of TIE Cartrew Comedy Company
at Eastbeac06 TO Mrs. Pyke's shop parlor
at Furcombe. The curves touched tho
Cape. Gibraltar and Malta. and his IA
theirs austers house In the repeiiant Liv-
erpool stTeet.e
Mrs. PIKE Interpreted his odd dazed look.
you ses." ishe said. i've given up all
thoughts a5os the profession. and. being
an artist now. I'm in business. We never
quite saw things as they were when We
were in the .Cartrew Comedy Company.