Butler citizen. [volume] (Butler, Pa.) 1877-1922, 1902-11-06
THE HOPE Of
the HEAR I
BY WIN SEARS

! CLAN eng above Lle uOFlZOH-
] a young man with a scyshe over his
! shoulder crossing the lane below the
/ barn looked up toward the house. See
I Ing the girl, he stopped. Strengthened
/ his shoulders as though he half expect
/ ed her to speak and to speak himself,
/ then walked on with tagging steps and
| disappeared below the orchard where
| the brook flows into the woods.
Mary leaned her arms on the edge Of
| the scuttle and looked out. The not air
from the garrct blowing in gusts past
| her face was like a twitch at her
| sleeves reminding her of the household
! she had left below.
She was the only one who had not al
ready gone t. bed. 1t was harvest
time They were cutting the wheat in
the meadows, and all day the hum Of
the reaper had come up from the
broad. white fields where the men
were at work. Since dawn the house
had been buzzlng with lively toll, but
now the days work was ended.
In the front room off the porch the
farmer and his wife were asleep. They
had gone to bed Immediately after sup
per, and while Mary had sat in the
porch she heard their low voices talk
ing over the potato crop and the grain,
their drowsy words growing fewer,
slower, until at length they sank away
and ceased. while yet the bobolinks
were skimming over the meadow and
the red of the sunset fingered.
Across the gate her married brother
and a neighbor had talked politics.
Mary had heard their nasal voices al
ternating like the wooden balls tossed
by n juggler. In the south chamber
Just under the attic her sister-in-law
had been putting her children to bed,
the creak, creak Of the rocking chair
as 1t swayed over an uneven board
dimly audible through the silent house.
In the attic under the roof slept her
little brother Bob, dreamless, tired and
contented at the end Of his long sum
mer day.
Down In the kitchen yard the turkeys
apple trees and the grape arbor, cluck-
ing and twittering in sleepy protest
against the awkward ones as they set
tied themselves together.
In n few moments 1t had grown
very still and dark.
The girl on the house top drew n
long breath and leaned her head back
against the edge Of the roof. 1t was
only 8 o'clock, and the faint yellow
twilight fingered on the border Of the
summer night. A new moon hung low
over the crest of the woods. The west
wind brought up the hot smell OF
ripening cornfelds, and a bat darted
out of the orchard in swooplng cir
cles against the clear night
From her eyrle above the treetops
the farm buildings, the neighboring
houses, the fields and lanes. even the
wide post road, looked quite small and
cheap. Hike toy village. The country
side In It's Irregular checkerboard Of
pasture, corn and woodland, pale yel-
low with the wheat stubble, somber
green where half fipened orchards
spread, marked here and there by
cluster Of roofs, n spire that told
hamlet In the hills, became signifi-
cant only in the mystery of distance
as 1t mounted toward the hills and
ended at last In one vast, gray, sealllle
level against the trackless sky Mary
looked at it all as one upon whose
mind the meaning Of these familiar
scenes had just begun to dawn-these
fields, the chickens she must pluck,
the bread she must make, the rasp-
berries she must preserve all grouped
than sI hot I,. l.. A
scheme Of life. From dawn till dark,
each day alike, cooking, washing, pre-
serving, holding the babies-the bur
dens OF each side were hers. SO far
she had carried them unthinkingly, un.
questlonably. 1t was only the lot of
every farmers life.
Tonight she was unusually tired. To
escape a feeling Of restlessness she had
determined to 20 TO bed. It was re
freshlng to lie in the cool darkness. But
before she reached the top Of the attic
stairs she felt the dry heat Of the sun
baked roof. Tho great, timbered space,
dark with its age blackened beams and
scantly windowed twilight held
strange odor Of cedar shingles, Of an
cicnt leather trunks, Of musty papers
in the solemn dusk the candle lost It's
bold glare and dropped to n wagering
spark, eyed by the gllmmcring gray
panes Of the gable windows high under
the ridge. -
The two chlmneys, like huge stone
giants whom she had been feeding all
day, stopped over her as they lowered
toward the roof, reminding her Of to-
moTow's kitchen work.
AS Mary sat on the edge OF her cot,
thinking Of these things, she looked up
vaguely. A star, the first in the pale
night, shone through the window upon
her, clear, unwinking, pensive, holy.
A lock OF hair looscncd by the wind
Goatcd softly across her cheek like the
kiss Of unseen lips. For tho first time
in her life she felt the restless longing
for some good OF which she was igno-
rant What was It her simple, sweet
existence lackedl Had she not every
thing that n girl could ask-fathcr,
mother, food and shelter, n place I'm
the worldi What else had any one1
The aged farmer and his wife-those
two good people fast asleep without n
thought in their Digbtcaps beyond the
potato crop; their dauRbter-ln-law the
men nt work in the fields. all those de-
pendent on we great harycsts, on the
LOuutiful farm; were they not happy
coutcntcd uuqucstionIugI Was she not
happy tooI Had she anything to com
plain Of. to regret, to wish fOrl
Suddenly out Of the hush came the
cry Of the whippoorwill, that piercing
momntul voice OF the vacant, wind
blown fields Of meadows Towering un.
seen and far away. 1t thrilled her like
pain. 1t stabbed her through and
| through nud cut her TO the heart with
its questioning, solitary call, hidden in
ihc twilight Of the woods
She had heard 1t 50 often, year after
| year. like the robin and the lark. New
or had It sounded so lonely. so friend
less and apart A strange longing
| swellcd up I'm her breast; tears filed
her eyes. The years Of her life, with
| their simple tasks. their ambitions,
| hopes and dreams. came 70 her like
| some vast tidal wave upon n sunny
shore, Withdrawing in long rcsouud.
| ing sigh at the absence OF some un-
! known joy. She stared through the
| warm darkness toward the edge OF the
woods outlined against the evening as
| though one should try TO read the soul
Of silhouette. Then she dropped her
| face I'm her hands for a single minute.
At o'clock I'm the morning Mary
Ia, VIf all n