The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1902-12-19
THE MESSAGE FROM THE MOUNTAIN
By BLANCHE GREY JORDAN
tcopyrisn. aso., BY Daily Story Pub. Co.,

x q ! NSSESesosesS
Il had been such trying, wearing
lay and she was so weary. SO unut-
terably tired. 1t was blank, Blank
wall she faced and to-day her courage
would not respond to her efforts. The
weight Of her afiiiction was so heavy
and she so longed for rest Years of
gray monotony n and dependence
stretching their sombre lengths before
her. Years of dull inaction and
'cAangeless, level existence. Her bed,
tsr invalid chair, her room-how her
AoEiSon had narrowed. And it had ap-
Daared so broad, so beautiful, SO glow
ing.
Two hot, soaring tears stole from
between the fringes of her eyes as
che thought that but for that fateful
eide she should even now be realiz-
ing the most luxurious dream of her
life: she should be wandering through
the memory mists of rich old Italy,
Andfng an objective answer to those
years of hard, ambitious preparation,
which she had made. She should rev.
al in the fact that for two years longer
there would be nothing to do but to
open her eyes and her heart to the
Impressions which travel would give
and to store those Impressions away
TO be metamorphosed later and touch
the minds of others through her songs
and stories. Surely if she had been
eroadened by this experience the
small success which had met her pre-
vious work would have been warm
and triumphant and she would have
Gained that place in the affections Of
q people that her ambition and her
yearning love desired.
But it was gone now. The luscious
dream had fallen into ashes. Long,
long years! Bleak, colorless years!
And she SO young! Her life thus
clipped and married just as it was
opening into fullest rosehood. The
dull heaviness of it all oppressed her
1eart until the tears were weighted
down and, stepped in utter life weari-
ness, she turned her head toward the
window and gazed where the pallid
November sunset sank listlessly into
the west.
Slightly toward the south. where
tho yellow hung most clear, a wooded
hill arose, the blush tenderness of
the haze, which distance loves to fold
around all objects, clinging softly
about its base, though the trees on the
summit shook back their vestments
and. bare-armed and dark, raised
their many hands in striking silhou-
cite, as If performing their evening
sacrifice.
Only part of this hill and that part
framed on either side by buildings
near at hand, could be viewed from
the window where she reclined,' but
there was enough to ease her eyes
and her mind and to emanate a
mighty vibration of peace that softly,
gently. imperceptibly began to roll as
incense over that unhappy heart. ST.
lently, unconsciously it diffused it's
-Goothing beauty through her thoughts
and changed their bitterness into ten
der melancholy. Gradually she felt
her soul responding to sthe scene. A
deep religious exaltation awoke in her
breast, strange, beautiful yearning,
cropping peace, sensation that was
prayer, a longing that was an apoca-
lypse. And life was new.
This was the beginning of an alb
sorbing personal love which the girl
learned to feel for that bit of wooded
hill. It was different from the love
she felt for picture or other inanimate
object. Indeed the hill was not IMAM
innate to her. It possessed soul, a
mighty soul, and it stood before her
as some strong, beautiful priest that
was to purify her heart for perfect
love of Nature and for the Spirit that
-quickens and is manifest in Nature.
Every morning she longed for her
first glimpse of it as some earnest
souls long for the moment of secret
prayer. Every evening she could not