River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1904-01-14
The Worna an
Who Knew ~
By WILL LEXINGTON COMFORT

nILL DUDLEY, who owned the
n peach farm touching the western
borders of the hills, peered in through
the open door of Hatfield's shanty as
he drove by. Hatfield was there, bend
ing over the stove, occupied probably
with a rasher of bacon and tin cup
of tea. Above the faint sizzle from
the pan and the rustling grind or the
wheels in the heavy sand OF the ROAD,
Dudley heard the muttering OF a voice.
1t was as If Hatfield were talking back
at the sputter of the fat. Dudley pulled
up in sudden pity and called. The man
murmur ceased, but a flock Of geese be-
hind the shanty whanged up a general
and animated comment. Hatfield ap-
peared at the door.
He was tall, young, black haired. HIS
face had the yellowish whiteness OF an
unblued washing. His body was bent,
his long arms hanging forward like an
aged farmers.
"Tomorrer's Sunday" Dudley began,
with effort. What be you a-goin' t
DO? They's partridge-slews o. part
Tidge-in them swails yonder on the
west slopes. Then, eff we want blue
bill, or redhead, or mallard-you know
Titman lake, an fshin' in old Silver!
Lew Gail got 20 FOUNDER thar yistlddy
grass pike. Come on along. Peaches
all marketed. Apples are better out in
the cool Least they won't Spite. Save
yer pork fur winter and hev game fur
a week. Come on!"
Thank you, Dudley, but I'd better
not I'm poor hunter"
Time you war learnin, then. Come
on'!'
But"
"T'll rout you out bout three an half
in the mornin' Well go to the duck
cove fust, an wait for light to see the
birds. l got two guns. Git up, Polite!
Glong!"
This invitation OF Dudley's must weigh
in as a virtue. He would far rather
have gone hunting alone. Moreover, the
days sport would be strained because
free silences and random chatter were
impossible in the presence of an inscrut-
able fellow like Hatfield. Dudley was
the happiest man in the hills just now.
He turned back after Polite had plodded
on hundred yards or so. Hatfield was
still standing in his doorway, his body
appearing long drawn and helpless.
Dudley smoked, chuckled to the mare,
and smacked his lips at the west. He
had reached the High ridge The view
was glorious, startling. The fields and
lakes and forests shone through golden
grenadine of Indian summer haze. All
the jewels of heaven seemed to have
dropped into the valley, there to glow in
the smoky light of the red-hot crucible
sagging down west. About quar-
ter of a mile south of Dudley's place
there was a white cottage with green
blinds. A handsome young woman APP
peared at the door of the cottage, glanced
back cautiously, then waved hurried,
laughing kiss at Dudley as he passed.
Hatfield fingered at the doorway until
the tea boiled over and the bacon was
charred. He would, perhaps, have for
gotten to eat had not the scalding bub-
bles aroused him. Most pitiable was
his attempt The odor of food sickened
him. He drank the tea from the leaves
and set the rest away handling the
dishes repugnantly. Then he rolled
cigarette, and lit it, and hurried out in the
air. The dark was growing. He re-
Elected miserably that cigarettes were
always endurable.
Why did Hatfield live alone on the Hill
forty? One must travel beyond the ridge
district to learn this. A few suggested
that weak lungs were responsible for
his purchase of the little fruit farm and
his stanch adherence thereto; others
believed that he had dissipated fortune,
physique and morals in metropolitan
company, and, that he sought to repair
all three by solitude and toll incessant.
Which guess was farthest afield is not
for this narrative. A few things were
known; that he spoke as one having
culture and understanding; that he la
bored from dawn to dark in the frail but
ceaseless manner of a woman; that he
paid for what he bought swiftly and
without question; that he gladly har-
bored wayfarers, but avoided affiliations
with his neighbors; that he lived care
lessly, bitterly and absolutely alone.
Had you watched him that night. you
would have learned that Hatfield's soul
held the passion and poetry of Greeks,
the supreme fervor Of man allied with
the idols of boy. And you might have
imagined without touching doubtful fab
ric that his mastering romance was tor
tured by a knowledge of physical unfit
ness, famed by solitude and rendered
maddening by its purposeless fruition.
1t was dark before moonrise. The
geese were regabbing the days events
by the water trough. Hatfield paused sud
denly. He had walked for an hour
walked swiftly to and fro, between the
barn and the shed. He almost ran
indoors, lit his lamp, placed it beside the
mirror in the kitchen, and shaved with
clumsy haste. Then he bathed outside
at the cistern and attired himself in
clothing of rare taste and quality, but
which hung tragically loose. There
was an irrevocable sorrow in the large
ness of that suit of a year ago. The hills
had not added unto his flesh. When
all was done, he left the house and hur-
ried UP the road in the direction Dud-
ley had taken.
A slip of the moon had dawr ed in the
far southwest. The rectangular clot OF
shadow ahead was the white cottage
with green blinds. AS Hatfield an
preached words softly spoken reached
him. He crept into the elder shrubs
which obScured the roadside and made