The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1902-02-12

Copyright, 1902, by Daily Story Pub. Co.
Polly Fox, who six months before had
gladly left the villages ever increasing
sisterhood Of spinsters to become the
wife of the Rev. Mr. Fox, and mother
to the little and big Foxes, said to her
husband, as Matilda, tall and trim,
swung down the village street at a pace
that comes from strength:
Its plum scan lous-she's got on a
short skirt an her hair down her back.
It's her birthday an she amt done a
lick O. work today. Jes' left it all for
her mar an Mary. Sed she'd been slavin'
ten year, sence she come home from col
lege, an she intended havin' day off.
They done bad thing for her when they
sent her to college. She got Quare no
tions an has iouted every man in the
village. 1 don't reckon she'll fout any
more"
Matilda left the village behind her and
plunged into near wood. She flung her
self full length on the ground and lay
there motionless. life had brought her
nothing of what she had dreamed.
There was a flash Of moving color and
burst of song in the silent wood; be-
low the river roared and turnbled in its
eager seward rush. June lay on the
wide, wonderful mountains-June, with
its glory of color it's abundant young
life; and the June time which lives in
tilda~ The June time! 1t revolted at life
and death in country village; it scorn :
ed the spinsters with their sharp tongues,
their sagging shoulders and sagging hips.
their dull-hued lives of toll.
Suddenly Matilda got to ner feet and
began heaping up the earth into a mound;
she worked industriously and when she
tossed back the heavy braid Of hair that
had slipped over the shoulder she laugh
| ed-a reckless laugh
| It's almost amusing" she said.
If | were in the secret am sure l
would agree with you" The voice was
not far off that had spoken the words.
Matilda turned with the air of an in
| suited princess. The short skirt. the
braided hair accentuated the youthful
| look
This, she said, haughtily, rs a pri-
vate wood"
And I am on a fence" was the calm
reply. land beyond is the kings high
way
Matilda gave the stranger a grave look
ing over, but he stood unflinchingIy.
The ceremony was about completed -
she spoke more graciously, THE song
comes next" She threw back her head
and sang In clear, fresh voice, How
end OF the first line she stopped and
laughed.
You are putting away the dolls and
| asked
Il found that the dolls were sawdust
and put them away twenty-five years
ago This in disdainful tone
What an ancient you are" said the
YES" humbly
The man got down from the fence and
came over to Matilda.
What did you bury there?' he asked,
indicating the mound.
my youth, she spoke defiantly.
Ye gods! the man burst into laughter.
! Matilda came little nearer.
you are a Southerner and a gentle
man." she said. Il knew from your voice
and your eyes I'm celebrating. It's my
birthday. At first 1 wept. You should
down the street. [ know how their
tongues wagged WREN they saw my hair
down my back; they all know that 1 am
We'll" said the man. what if you
are! I've known women of thirty who
were much nicer than white-muslined,
blue-ribboned, giggling girls
"Out there, with a comprehensive
sweep of her hand that took in the world
beyond the blue circle of mouatains
there, she pointed to the village church
spire that cut the blue reach of sky, "a
woman's life ends at thirty, if she's I'M
wed. She is personal grievance to
every man and woman in the village,
and as long as there's breath in her body
they feel responsible for her and trS, to
marry her off. It's bad enough when a
new man comes into the community; it's
Sh1verlng when a mans left a WidoWer
Or how I hate widowersv' She made
a gesture Of despair.
You might try suicide" the man sug-
eve thought of it, said Matilda,
darkly.
They looked at each other. The sun
fitting through the trees flung coins OF
gold at their feet.
IT'S my birthday" the man spoke
slowly. We might celebrate together;
we might have at least one day of
youth
A sudden usefulness shown in NATL
da's eyes, but she shook her head
1T would be one delicious, isolated
improperly of your life
She looked at him doubtfulIy
You've let the band go down the
other street all your days?'
Yes" pensively.
and left unGcne the things you'd love to
de-
How did you know" she asked.
He trampled the grave she had made
the grave that held her youth and point
ed to the water below, where a boat
rocked softly.
Come" he said.
Matilda moved slowly from him in the
direction of the church spire
The mlAic, murmured the man, i'm
street"
Where are we going?" asked Matilda.
She had stepped into the boat.
ITO land of mutual discovery he
said gayly. 1T leads through winding
I paths; perhaps It returns to the level;
i perhaps it goes to the heights
! Maulda's heart had leaped to her
! throat at the look he gave her. 1t was