Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1903-11-18

when the autumn came, with its misty,
purple days, most glorious of all days
in the cattle country, the old restless
ness came back and the fierce refusal
Of her lot. Then came the day of the
round up. Why should she have to stay
while all went after the cattle? The
Duke would have remained, but she
impatiently sent him away. She was
weary and heartsick, and, worst of all,
she began to feel that most terrible of
burdens, the burden of her life to 9TH
ers. was much relieved when the
| Pilot came in fresh and bright waving
a bunch of wild flowers in his hand.
II thought they We're all gone!" he
cried where do you think found
them? Right down by the big elm
root" And, though he saw by the set
tied, gloom of her face that the storm
was coming, he went bravely on pictur-
ing the canyon in all the splendor of its
autumn dress. But the spell would not
work. Her heart was out on the slop-
Ing hills, where the cattle were bunch
ing and crowding with tossing heads
and rattling hornss>and 1t was in
voice very bitter aim impatient that
she cried:
"Oh, am sick Of all this! want to
ride! want to see the cattle and the
men and-and-nnd all the things out
side" The Pilot was cowboy enough
to know the longing that tugged ut her
heart for one wild race after the calves
/ cr CT h,,% no
"Wait, Gwen. Try to be patient"
II am patient: ut least have been
patient for two whole months, and it's
no use, and don't believe God cares
one bit!"
"Ycs, he does, Gwen, mora than any
of us, replied the Pilot earnestly.
mo, he does not care" she answered
with angry emphasis, and the Pilot
made no reply.
Perhaps" she went on hesitatingly,
hes angry because said didn't care
for him, you remember? That was
very wicked. But don't you think I'm
punished nearly enough now? You
made me very angry. and didn't real
ly mean it"
Poor Gwen! God had grown to be
very real to her during these weeks of
pain, and very terrible. The Pilot look
ed down moment into the blue gray
eyes, grown so big and SO pitiful, and,
hurriedly dropping on his knees beside
the bed, he said in very unsteady
voice:
"Oh, Gwen, Gwen, he's not like thatl
Don't you remember how Jesus was
with the poor sick people? That's what
he's like"
could Jesus make me well?"
eyes, Gwen"
"Then why doesn't hef" she asked,
and there was no impotence now, but
only trembling anxiety as she went on
in timid voice: II asked him to, over
and over, and said would wait two
months, and now it's more than three.
Are you quite sure he hears now?"
She raised herself on her elbow and
gazed searchingly into the Pilots face.
was glad 1t was not into mine. AS
she uttered the words, Are you quite
sure?" one felt that things We're in the
balance. could not help looking Mt
the Pilot with intense anxiety. What
would he answer? The Pilot gazed out
Of the window upon the hills for u few
moments-how long the silence seem
ed!-then, turning, looked into the eyes
that searched his so steadily and an
swered simply:
Eyes, Gwen, l am quite sure! Then,
With quick inspiration, ha got her
I n
try to see 1t as read" But before he
read, with the true artists instinct he
created the proper atmosphere. By
few vivid words he made us feel the
pathetic loneliness Of the Man Of Sor-
rows in his last sad days. Then he
read that masterpiece Of all tragic pic
turing, the story of Gethsemane And
as he read we saw 1t all-the garden
and the trees and the sorrow stricken
Man alone with his mysterious agony.
We heard the prayer 80 pathetically
submissive, and then, for answer, the
rabble and the traitor
Gwen was far too quick to need ex-
PLANTATION, and the Pilot only said, you
see, Gwen, God gave nothing but the
best-to his own Son only the best
1.-THE best? They took him away,
didn't they?" She knew the story well.
Eyes, but listen" He turned the
leaves rapidly and read: 1--WE see
Jesus for the suffering Of death crown
ed with glory and honor That is how
he got his Kingdom
Gwen listened silent, but unconvinced,
| and then said slowly:
"But how can this be best for me?
am no use to any one. 1t can't be best
| to Just lie here and make them all wait
on me. and-and-I did want to help
daddy OIL know they will get
tired Of me! They are getting tired al
ready. I-I--can't help being hateful"
She was by this time sobbing us l
had never heard her before deep, pas
sionnte sobs Then again the Pilot had
IN inspiration.
Nov, Gwen" he said severely, you
know were not as mean us that, and
that you are just talking nonsense, ey-
cry word. Now I'm going to smooth
out your red hair and tell you u story"
"It's not red" she cried, between her
sobs. This was her sore point.
ut is red, as red us can be; beau
tiful shining purple red,' said the Pilot
emphatically. beginning to brush.
"Purplev' cried Gwen scornfully.
Eyes, I've seen 1t in the sun, purple.
Haven't your said the Pilot, appealing
to me. "And my story is about the can
yon, our canyon, your canyon, down
there"
"Is 1t trueY asked Gwen. already
soothed by tho cool, quick moving
hands.
| .Trues It's as true as as"-he
glanced around the room-"as the Pill
grim's Progress This was satisfac-
tory. and the story went on.
1 "At first there were no canyons. but
only the broad. open prairie. One day
the master of the prairie, walking out
over his great Myns, where were only
grasses. asked the prairie, Where are