The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1904-02-28

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True, he had golden grip-an all
mighty golden grip. He knew. the odds.
He, was versed in cent per cent. BY
social measure, he was not bad man.
But by your measure, Karen, by our of
the rose garden, what was he?"
Remember, he Is dead,
1.-THE factis not altered thereby. What
was he? A great, gross, material
creature, deaf to song, blind to beauty,
dead to the spirit. He was fat to lazi-
of his belly witnessed his gluttony-"
But he is dead. It is We who are
now-now! now! Don't you hear2 AS
you say l have been inconsistent. l
have sinned. Good. But should not
you, too, cry peccavi? If l have broken
promises, have not you? Your love of
the rose garden was of all time, or so
you said. Where is it noW?"
1T is here! Nowi' he cried, striking
his breast passionately with clenched
hand. 1T has always BEEN"
And your love was a great love;
there was nothing greater" she cont1n-
ued; cor so you said in the rose gar
den. Yet 1T is not fine enough, large
enough, to forgive me here, crying now
at your feet?"
The man hesitated. His mouth open
ed. Words shaped vainly on his lips.
She had forced him. to bare his heart
and speak truths which he had hidden
from himself. n
LOOK at>Yne, Davei Look at me!
am the Same, after all. And so are you,
if you would but see. We are not
changed"
Her hand rested on his shoulder, and
his had half-passed, roughly, about her,
when the sharp crackle of a match
startled him to himself Winapie, alien
to the scene, was lighting the low wick
of the slush lamp. She appeared to
start out against a background of utter
black, and the fame, flaring suddenly
up, lighted her bronze beauty to royal
gold.
"You see, it is impossible" he groan-
ed, thrusting the fair haired woman
gently from him. 1T is impossible"
he repeated. 1T is impossible"
Il am not a girl, Dave, with a girls
Illusions she said softly, though not
daring to come back to him. ut is as
a woman that / understand. Men are
men. A common CUSTOM Of the coun-
try. I am not shocked. OWNED it
from the first"
- ct is impossible" .,ssgstl
"But it is not" She was at his side
again, her hand touching lightly, ca.
ressingly, the sunburned back of his
mo, no." he. protested. 1T is not
right re-
"Come, Dave, you mustft see. She is
not your kind. : There is no race affin-
ity. She is an abopiginea 4sprung from
the soil, yet close to- the, soil, and i'm
possible to lift from the. soil. Born
savage, savage she win die. But we
you and 1.-The dominant, evolved race
the salt of the earth and the masters
thereof! We are made for each other.
The supreme call is Of. kind, and we
are of kind. Reason and feeling die
tate it. Your very instinct demands it.
That you cannot deny. You cannot
escape the generations behind you.
Yours is an ancestry which has sur
vived for thousand centuries, and
for a hundred thousand centuries, and
your line must not stop here. 1t can
not. Your ancestry will not permit it.
Instinct is stronger than the will. The
race is mightier than you. Come, Dave,
let us go. We are young yet, and life
is good. Come"
Winapie, passing out of the cabin to
feed the dogs, caught his attention and
caused him to shake his head and
weakly to reiterate. But the Woman's
hand slipped about his neck and her
cheek pressed to his. His bleak life
rose up and smote him-the vain strug-
gle with pitiless forces; the dreary
years of frost and famine; the harsh
and Earring contact with elemental life;
the aching void which mere animal ex-
istence could not FL.
Come, Dave, come. I have for both.
The way is soft" She looked about her
at the bare furnishings of the cabin.
II have for both. The world is at our
feet, and all joy is ours. Gomez comet
She was in his arms, trembling, and
he held her tightly. He rose to his
feet. But the snarling of hum
cry dogs and the shrill cries of Winapie
bringing about peace between the COM
batants came muffied to his ear
through the heavy logs. And another
scene flashed before him. A struggle
in the forest-a bald-face grizzly, brok-
en-legged, Terrible; the snarling of the
dogs and the shrill cries of Winapie as
she urged them to the attack; himself
in the midst of the crush, breathless,
painting, striving to hold off red death;
broken-backed, entrail-ripped dogs
bowling in impotent anguish and desc
Grating the snow; the virgin white run
ming scarlet with the blood of man
and beast: the bear, ferocious irresisti-
BILE, cunning, crunching down to the
core of his life, and Winapie at the
last, in the thick of the frightful mud
die, hair flying, eyes flashing, fury in
| carnate, passing the long hunting knife
again and again. Sweat started to his
forehead. He shook off the clinging
woman and staggered back to the wall.
And she, knowing that the moment had
come, but unable to divine what was
passing within him, felt all she had
gained slipping away.
Dave! Dave" she cried. II will not
give you up. If you do not wish to
come we will stay. I will stay with
you. The world is less to me than you
are. 1 will be a Northland wife to you.
I will cook your food, feed your dogs,
break trail for you, lift a paddle with
you. l can do it. Believe me, / am
strong
She sank to the floor, and threw her
arms about his knees, sobbing. "And
you do care for me. You do care for
me. Think! The long years I have
waited-suffered. You can never know. .
He stopped and raised her to her
| feet.
Listen he commanded, opening the
door, and lifting her bodily outside. "It
l cannot be. We are not alone to be con-