The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1904-06-02

LIE nibbIed at the stub OF his pen,
IL looked pensiveIy across at the
wall. and then began to write
Once started, words flowed in a stream
from the point of his pen.
Dear mother he wrote, II cannot go
to sleep tonight. Oh, my bed is good
enough. pay $40 month for my room
alone, which is pretty steep for this Jer-
sey town. 1 wish I were at home, out on
the front gallery, where the whippooFwills
calling to one another in the woods and
the droWsy hum of the katydids and the
rustic of the leaves in the woodslot would
put me to sleep in no time.
Il used to love to listen how breeze in
the summer from behind the house made
its way down the woedslet, the wave of
rustling, 1eaTy sound starting at the first
line Of trees and working its way on down
to the big gate. With listening to that and
watching ragged fragments of cloud drift
across the moons face, 1 had no trouble
in going to sleep then.
Il intended coming home this summer
to spend a couple Of months on the farm,
but the business has become so pressing
that l won't be able to make the trip.
The business is working me hard, but,
little mother it is bringing in skads OF
money that will enable you and me and
papa to live in ease and all together in
a few years.
Il was just thinking what glorious
time I used to have on the farm. though
me out for lazineSs.
Il remember I used to get up early in
the morning to watch the sun rise You
know same people say that midnight is
the most awe-inspiring time Of the TWEEN
ty-four hours. They are wrong. About
daylight when the silence seems just
about TO break-that is the most awful
moment of the whole round. When the
tension is broken by the sweetest, small
est birds note. when the East is lighted
up little with white. sharp stalks Of
ant
later all is clear and the chickens are
Growing DANGEROUSLY, the cows lowing,
the birds all singing crafty but jOyfully,
the dew Scintillating its myriad coiors
in the new light. when the world seems to
have just taken an inylgoratlng bath,
seeming so clean and pure, when every
living creature, il seems must be good
and contented and at peace with every
other creature and inenabIy happy-then
it is mother, surely that is the most aW-
full because the most beautiful period or
the daily round of time.
81 was looking forward to spending,
a good part of my vacation on the river,
too mother, as l used to do, for which,
you also knew / received many laying
out You remember that little bluff just
below the old Buffalo Hole where pop
always fished? That was always my
favorite Longing place. / never went 70
fish-too much trouble l would lie on the
edge of that little bluff and look down at
the river for hours watching some dig
nified old crane stalking along the Dank
gaze at a line of turtles on log. They
always seemed to be doing their dog
gondest to stick their faces into the suns.
eff 1 followed my wishes in those days,
as l usually did, would come back home,
eat some of your yellow eggbread, hog
jowI stored with months of sweetness,
your cabbage or greens and finally your
pound cake, and then go see Lizzie. I'd
get her out under that biggest oak in
Old Man Perkins yard, where I'd play
the guitar until 10 O'Clock. or until the
IL RAJ M off o
much of me. Then I'd come home, and
sleep, sleep so sweetly.
by the way, mann. whisper to Lizzie
when you get a chance that I am still
hers, 1 am coming for her some day; tell
her that. You say she does not seem as
happy as she used to be. Well. that's
good sign. She'll not listen to that louty
Jack Marshall.
Love to all. Your loving son -"
And then one Of the assistants at the
jail came in to take out the light. He
grumbled as he went:
'I wish to heaven you'd either quit
stealing or steal enough to send you to