The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1904-03-17
LILAC
BLOOMS
BY X eth Gordon
Copyright, 1905. bp T. C. Mcclure

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Danbpry, fresh from the wllds of the
west, where for year or more he had
been busy tanning rebellious nature
after the manner of civil engineers
came down the steps that led from his
club to the street, with his broad shout
ders we'll back and the zest of living
alive In bis heart.
Something of the wholesomeness of
natures solltudes chung to him. show
ing In the clearness of his eyes and the
breadth Of his chest Here WAS a
man, one saw at a glance accustomed
to wide horizons and great drafts of
untainted air.
May, that tender mixture of spring
and summer, was casting its glamour
over the city, and Danbury's blood
whirled through his veins with an in
toxicating, hoyish eagerness. 1t was
good thing to be alive, to have come
from that vast. still land beyond the
Rockies, where man seems so small, to
the more intimate If less lofty attrac-
through every inch of his healthy. Wig
orous body Then, too, he was on a
holiday, the more sweet that 1t had
been long delayed and hardly earned.
The crisp patter of hoofs upon the
asphalt, the whizzing of the automo-
biles, even the distant onrush of the
elevated trains-all of 1t was delightful
to him. He was in love with the ur-
ban idea. Then at the corner faint,
sweet. vaguely familiar scent drifted
across his consciousness, and as at
magic touch Fifth avenue and its
sights and sounds faded into the back
ground and an old fashioned garden
rose as suddenly before his minds eye.
There was rambling white house
which looked as comfortable as an old
shoe and a wide driveway guarded on
both sides by poplars as straight and
tall as grenadiers At the back of the
lawn was a shadowy mass of shrub
berry where the spikes of lilac bloom
stood out richly against the green.
What could have made me think Of
the old place just nowf' was the silent
Interrogation that he put to himself.
But before he had time to analyze his
train of thought his eye fell upon a
pushcart at the edge of the sidewalk,
upon which stood tub crammed full
of lilac blossoms. 1t was the scent OF
the lilacs that had transported him in
spirit to the old scenes and the lilacs
that as a boy he remembered he scorn-
ed because they were flowers and
therefore only worthy the attention OF
women and girls
The alert Italian. with his parch-
ment skin and bilious looking eyes,
who saw in lilacs only another way OF
getting money, held out bunch inslnu
atingly. Danbury tossed him a dime
and selecting one Of the soft. purplisb
spikes of bloom. held 1t to his face and
shifted at II remIniscently
Though he walked mechanically on
ward, in thought he was far back in
the years. He felt the soft. springy
sod under his bare feet once more.
heard the big black and yellow humble
bees buzzing heavily over the sweet
ness of the flowers tasted the wild
strawberries that grew on the south
slope of n certain bill that he knew
well. These and many other things
that had made life wonderful he
thought of. remembering a bit sadly
that the world could never seem just
like that again. Being a boy-that was
the greatest thing
Guided by that sixth sense that comes
to those who dwell much In cities, he
paused at q crossing to allow vehicle
to pass. 1t was victoria, and leaning
laxily against the cushions was girl
Of nineteen or twenty years, the sight
Of whom brought his thoughts quickly
back to the present.
Even in that irresponsible moment
he realized that she could lay no es-
pecial claim to beauty. But the fresh,
glrlish face was very young and clear,
and by a strange coincidence II looked
out at him from a mass of lilac as pale
and soft in color as the flower he held
In his hand. Her light cloth gown. her
large hat, the parasol at her side, were
all of that color. Danbury had a be
wildered feeling that she was a sort
of human flower. and he stared like a
man In a trance. noting the delicate
pallor of her skin and the clear dark