Mexico Missouri message., 1902-09-11
An Old Mans Diversion.
BY SARA LINDSAY COLEMAN.

BY SARA LINDSAY COLEMAN.
Copyright. 1902. by Daily story Pub. Coz
The sun hung low in the west, and
a breeze from the river stirred the
vines that climbed on the Miller's
porch.
1t was always very quite there late
afternoons, and the Miller. an old
man, sat there after the days hard
work was done ard watched the
night settle down.
One afternoon, his rcvcric was
broken into by the sound of voices.
He looked out to see n man and
woman walking slowly past his home.
Both were young. The girl was
more than pretty-her charm trans
cended beauty. 1t caught the old
mans eye just as it turned heads on
crowded city pavements. A faint frag.
rance floated by with her, and as the
old man leaned from his sheltering
vines the sun glinted and rippled on
her bright brown hair.
"Tain't material to be as goodlookin'
as that N jes as big as a fairy" he
said under his breath like.
"Courtin' couples jes materially take
to water"
The two had crossed foot bridge
and stepped over the rocks to settle
on the large one which projected into
the river.
II wonder, naow," the old man com.
muned with himself, "ef | should go
in? Hits mighty pleasant out here.
I'll jes Civ 'em warnin'." He coughed
a cough that wouldn't have startled
mouse.
A moment later he coughed again
ard vigorously puffcd at his old pipe.
Then he settled back in his chair,
his nostrils twitching with contempt.
"Jes books" he muttered. AN
she be lookin' like a apple blossom
| leanin' back thar with them good fer
nothin' lectlc hans claspcd loose
! like"
Tho sunset gates unbarrcd to let
| the day through. and the good fer
'notlin' lcetle hans" wcrc lifted to
meet the clasp of stronger ones above
her as she sprang to her feet and
turned toward the west.
"Jcs books" he muttered again, rs
snatches of their talk floated to him.
After they passed he got up and
knocked the ashes from his pipe.
Hit pears to me-" he said reflec-
lively. that city fcllers be degoncr-
atm -atalkin books ter gal like
that"
Gosh, Maricr," said the Miller the
next afternoon, "ef them young folks
don beat all! Back agin m talkin
bout picters! Pears like they've
come a considerable step ter talk
picters!"
"Taint likely" said the old man
as he sat on his porch the third after
noon, and looked anxiously up the
road. that they'll come agin. | low
they air a-visitin' up at the mill Pres-
dents. | heerd party war up thar"
His eyes searched the road that
wound from the river to the hill, and
he sighed with satisfaction as he sat
back in his chair, for the airy white
figure on the brow of the hill sill.
houettcd against the enkindled clouds
was The Leetle Apple Blossom.
The days rounded through per-
fumed dawns alive with birds, and
middays of shadows and quiet winds
to the afternoons-wonde after
Moons in which the sun, big and blood
red, slipped slowly down the sky;
golden afternoons, for the man and
the maid came always to the rocks
in the river.
The two had become the central
point of the old mans consciousness.
He thought Of them by day and
dreamed of them at night.
Little personal traits Of the girls
reached out to him like carosscs. Her
quick way Of leaning forward as she
talked, the movements OF her slender
hands, her laugh with its ripping run
of mirth, the lift Of her chin.
From n long.gOne summer he re-
voked a memory that fingered like a
subtle aroma in his hoart-a memory
and a grave. He had dwelt with Soil