Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-01-06
The Woman Who Knew o@
By WILL LEXINGTON COMFORT

{ By WILL LEXINGTON COMFORT ] E j S~%~~%%.%.@..s::: DILL DUDLEY. who owned the ID peach farm touching the western borders of the hills, peered in through the open door of Hatfeld's shanty as he<drove by. Hatfield was there, bends ing over the stove, occupied probably with rasher of bacon and a tin cup of tea. Above the faint sizzle from the pan and the rustling grind of the wheels in the heavy sand of the road Dudley heard the muttering of 8 voice ] It was as if Hatfield were talking back at the sputter of the fat. Dudley pulled up in sudden pity and called. The mans murmnr ceased, but flock of geese be, hind the shanty whanged up general and animated comment Hatfield ap. peared at the door.
 He was tall. young. black haired. His face had the yellowish wilderness 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' do? They's partridge-slews O part ridge-in them swails wonder on the west slopes. Then. eff we want a blue. bill, or redhead, or mallard-you know Titman lake, an fishin' in old Silveri Lew Gail got 20 pounder thar yistiddy grass pike. Come on along. Peaches all marketed. Apples are better out in sNtheAeool. Least they won't spile. 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'l'
 sBut-'
 '.I'll rout you out bout three an hall in the mornin'. We'll go to the duck cove fust. an wait for light to see the birds. got two guns. Git up. Pollie! G1ong!''
 This invitation of Dudley's must weigh in as virtue. He would far rather have gone hunting alone. Moreover, the days sport would be strained because free silences and random chatter wera 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 PoIlie 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 a 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 guar. ter of mile south of Dudley's place there was a white cottage with green blinds. A handsome young woman ap peared at the door of the cottage, glanced back cautiously, then waved a 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 for7 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 a cigarette, and lit it, and hurried out in the air. The dark was growing. He re- fected miserably that cigarettes were always endurable.
 Why did Hatfield live alone on the Hill forty? One must travel beyond the ridge Ifcfr.f fr$ t< lar ic fo fnd that weak lungs were responsible fol his purchase of the little fruit farm and his stanch adherence thereto; others i. 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 af1eld 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 Hatheld's s soul held the passion and poetry of Greeks the supreme fervor of a man allied with the idols of boy. And you might have Imagined without touching doubtful fab rio that his mastering romance was tor tured by 3 knowledge of physical unfit ness. tanned by solitude and rendered maddeninG. by its purposelegs fruition.