Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1904-11-24

$4,000 a. y SuiiSliilit dhu SHOW
ers In unregulated alienation, seemed
symbolical of life-that life of which
every tender blade of grass. every ven
turesome flower thrusting it's head
above the sod, seemed TO speak. There
were health and strength in the gentle
breeze which wantonly played with
n budding leaves OF the great trees.
already putting forth little evangels of
that splendid foliage with which they
decked themselves in the full glory of
summer. That merry wind which
swept through the open boathouse at
the end of the wharf laid a bold hand
upon the curls which fell about the
neck of the young girl sitting there by
the door near the water on one of the
benches, gazing out over the broad
reaches Of the quiet. ever beautiful
Potomac, rippled gently by the wind
under the late afternoon sun. The gal
liant little breeze, fragrant with balm
n perfume of the trees and flowers.
kissed a faint color into her pale cheek
and seemed to whisper TO her despond-
ent heart in murmuring sounds that
framed themselves into the immortal
words hope, hope"
The young girl had but yesterday en-.
tered upon her twentieth spring. -Four
months ago there had o been a mer-
rier, lighter hearted, gayer. more CO.
quettish young maiden I'm tidewater
virginia, and today she thought as
h looked down at her thin hand out
lined so clearly upon the vivid cardinal
cloak she WORE, which had dropped I'M
needed on the seat by her side-today
b was like that man in the play of
whom her father read-a grave man;
no, not q nan at all.
once, in her enthusiasm, she had
fondly imagined that she had possessed
all those daring qualities Of energy and
action, those manly virtues which
might have been hers by Inheritance
could the accident Of sex have been re-
versed. But now she knew she was
but a woman after also weak. so
feeble, so ~listless. What had she left to
live for? Once Ii was her father. then
1t was her country, then II was her
so'"' ANO" ANotIluk I1tT IullltT, HI
the request Of congress-, would soon re-
sumo his interrupted duties In France.
now become more important than ever.
He was a man of the world and a sol
der, a diplomat.
The hard experiences of the . st few
months were for him episodes, exciting
truly, but only part OF a lifetime spent
In large adventure, soon forgotten in
some other strenuous part demanded
by some other strenuous e%xigency. But
she! No, she was not a man at all, but
a woman, unused to such scenes and
happenings as fate had lately made
her a participant in. Her father might
have his country. He had not lost his
love; his heart was not buried out i'm
the depths of the cruel sea. What had
become Of that Roman patriotism upon
which she prided herself in times past?
Her country! What had changed her
SO? There We're many W
There was Blodgett's grave at the
foot Of the hill. She had played In
childhood with that faithful old sol
dier. Many a tale had he told her Of
her gallant father when, as a young
man, he gayly rode away 60 the wars,
leaving her lady mother in tears be-
hind. She could sympathize with wait
ing women now and understand.
There, too, far away In another state,
lay the lover of her girlhood's happy
day-the bright eyed, eager, gallant,
joyous lad. What good comrades they
had been! How they had laughed and
hunted and danced and firted through
the morning of life! How pleasant had
been that life indeed! He was quiet
now. She could no longer join In his
laugh; the sound of his voice
was stilled. They might never play to-
again. Was there any play at
all IN life? That was another answer.
There was the white haired mother,
the stately little royalist, Madam Tai
bot, who slept I'm peace OF the hill at
Fairview Hall, her ambitions, her hopes
nd her loyalty buried with her. leav-
ing the place untenanted save by visit
tul memories. She, too, had gone.
Answers? They crowded thick upon
her! There were the officers Of the
Captain Vincent. Beau
Hollins and all the other Of
and men with whom she had
come in contact on that frightful cruise.
There were the heroic men who, had
by their ship, who had seem the
few go away In the only boat
that was left seaworthy. without a
at being left behind, who had
death u~nheeding, unrepining.
down In the dark water with n
cheer upon their lips. There was the
old sailor, TOO, with his unquenehable
her friend because. the
friend of her lover; and Philip. her
brother; and there was Seymour him
self. All, what were all the rest to
him! Gone, and how she loved him!
She leaned her head upon her hand
and thought Of him. Here in this boat
house he had first spoken 20 her Of his
love; here she had first felt his lips
touch her cheek. There, rocked gently
by the light breeze, upon the water at
her feet was the familiar little pleasure