The Montgomery advertiser., 1902-01-21
THE ADVERTISERS DAILY SHORT STORY

With buoyant steps a man walked rapidly along the road that rolled monot- onously over the hills. His clothes. streaked with dust, were faultiessly cut: gaudy 1ewelry glittered on his slim, white nnsers; bright red tic glared start nngiy above shirt bosom of many hues. HIS patent leather shoes were spattered with mud and his tall silk hat looked sirangely out of place in the country Bat the mans face was illumined with the gieam of pleasant expectancy and, as old. familiar objects met his gaze, a smile crept into his eyes and played around his mouth.
 Presently he came to a rustic bridge that spanned small stream. Here he paused to rest, and. removing his hat, dried his forehead with a handkerchief. Then he leaned against the railing of the bridge and gazed long and earnestly at a farm house that stood upon a knoll across the stream.
 The door of the kitchen stood ajar and the voice Of young woman. singing over her work, crept through the gath ering shadows of evening to the man standing on the bridge.
 As the song reached his ears the man drew 'himself up to his full height. the smile upon his face deepened and a brighter glimmer crept into his eyes, For the song and the woman who sang 1t were familiar to him.
 There was tenderness in the song-a tenderness that seemed to blend with, and become a part of. the holy stiffness Of the summer evening. And the wo- mans voice was clear and musical, and sweet as the murmurs of the ripples of the brook.
 With bowed, uncovered head. the man stood in silence and listened to the mel ody. Then involuntarily he turned his eyes toward a distant church spire that stood. white and distinct, against the horizon.
 Often in the days agone he had sat, fin cowhide and jeans. amid the worship CTS in that little church, listening to this womans voice singing in the choir and trembling. with strange delight when ever her bright eyes sought his and her cheeks.
 How pretty. how sweet. how pure of heart and mind she had always been!
 He had not thought himself worthy of her then. So he had left his home and her and had gone. to seek his fortune. And her voice and her smiles had fol- lowed him. He had meant to be always honest-he had meant to be. but
 And now, after five years he was back again-back on the old bridge where, so many many times: they had fingered. side by grasses and listening to the chatter of the brook. bashful in the consciousness of their love for each other. He was back and-She was singing!
 The same sweetness was In her voice the same pure, boundless tenderness. as though she were an angel who never had known what 1t was to sin.
 AS he stood, listening reverently to the song that fioated down to him from the little house upon the hill, the mans face grew slowly grave and a chill crept in. In. in to his heart. Then the voice ceased and he heard only the subdued splashing of the darkling brook and the distant lowing of cattle.
 He did not move. but stood silent, mo- tionles, thinking. thinking:
 She had promised to wait for him and to love him always, and she had kept her word-he knew she had kept her word. So he returned, walking from the distant village. not of necessity, but for the mere pleasure of 1t, for the joy of again plodding over the old, familiar road. In his pockets was wealth-gold and silver. and banknotes-but in his heart, in his conscience-God
 All along the journey he had pictured in his mind her glad welcome, her bright smiles, her warm handpress. Again and again he had thought of her coming to meet him, tripping merrily down the road, her hands extended, the dimples showing in her teeth.
 But her voice and not herself, had come to meet him. And the voice had come singing a tender hymn-a hymn that echoed the goodness. the saintliness of her heart. of her soul.
 Wednesdays story THE LOVE OF