Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1902-12-04

VI ! ghost OF moon, q Tim OF
4 dre, hung in the east; above
h.-.-.< ,,1it the morning star glowed.
t--a2is~J The moon rim faded in
the dawn's cool grasp; the stars grew
wan and went out. The fierce band
OF orange that wiGened and heightened
along the mountain tops seemed to the
prisoners distorted imagination a
serpent of living fire-the rustic of
corn beneath his iron barred window
hiss.
The day broadened. The prisoner
fell on the floor of his cell and lay
there, white. despairing heap
The pioneer spirit had urged him
west. He had crossed the Blue Ridge
and had tramped along day after day
with his shoes flung over one shoulder,
the satchel that held all his worldly
possessions over the other Day by
day he walked briskly along the noun
tain road, the breath of the forest on
his face, the gurgle of limpid mountain
streams slipping over pebbly beds, the
gush of bird voices in rapturous song
in his ears. 1t was good to be young
and strong and full of hope.
In the doorway of a springhouse that
was shaded by q venerable oak tree a
slip of a girl moved a churn dasher
briskly up and down. She sang at
her task in loud but sweet voice The
boy stopped and asked for a drink of
water He fingered under the tree
with the brown eyed girl.
In the kindly inquisitive way of
mountaineers she asked whence he
came. Thus encouraged the simple
story was told. From over in Kahn
tuck his mothers people had sent back
glowing accounts of the country and
he was making his way to them. There
was but one tie that bound him to the
old life. He was his mothers only
child-she had wept and blessed him
when he left-but, o golden youth, to
whom so much is possible, he would
return for her.
The lad took up his little black
leather satchel and said good-py, but
he did not CO. The girl lifted shy,
sweet eyes and babe him stay. The
harvest season was at hand, and the
laborers few. 1t was the old story
the old new story. He staid. Through
the long golden harvest days she came
as Put came of old into the fields.
The harvest days passed. In her
attic room the girl stirred in her
dreams and nestled her brown cheek
in her brown hand. Beyond the attic
window a cloud as white as the dream
that rippled through her soul in the
still night foated and in the stable loft
the lad walked and gazed at the stars.
In the early morning light, under the
paling stars, he kissed the tears from
promise to return. He swung down
the road at pace that comes from
strength. He was eager to be at his
journeys end. There were two to
work for now. One so old in the
Georgia hills, and one so young in the
valley of the Blue Ridge.
A well mounted traveller overlook
the lad. entered into conversation with
him, and asked him to ride his horse
and let him stretch his legs. The
boy complied The man waved his
hand ard disappeared down bypath.
At the thud of galloping hoofs the
mare broke into a run and the lad
turned to fling jest at the men who
rode so boldly Laughing, he turned
and felt a heavy hand on his shoulders
and heard the words, "Y're my prison
err" shouted in his ears.
'Tis easy to overpower defenseless
and bewildered lad. They turned him
about and rode in the direction OF the
county seat. They laughed at his eff
forts to explain. AS they neared the
old tree the frightened eyes in the
springhouse door reused the boy from
his apathy. He cried out to the girl
that she knew the truth, knew that he
was no horsethief, and must save him.
When the girl spoke. even when she
described the man who had ridden by
on the stolen horse, the officers
laughed A likely tale. they sneered,
and swept their prisoner on toward
the county seat-towards the jail.
On the day of the trial the court
house was crowded. AS the death
sentence was read, for it was in the
days when horsethieves met the death
penalty in North Carolina, breath