The Bellefontaine Republican. [volume] (Bellefontaine, Logan County, Ohio) 1855-1905, 1904-05-17

dow blinds. and straight to his bed
side. borne on the joyously dancing
curtains that streamed out like a
brides veil, came Polly's voice. lifting.
sweet: And IL ever you missed the
sunshine" she sang. you'd find IT in
Polly's hair
Some little time later Pearson ran
down the stairs and entered the dining
room with a schoolboy swagger. He was
not old; no man was old when Polly
sang for him like that
That night. when Pearson pulled
smoke-rings on the side porch and
looked across the barbed wire at Polly
and her followers. who were very,
very gay. he felt like an aged Peri lis
! tening at heavens side entrance.
Pearson had closed the door to his
heart and rolled big stone against it,
ankind forever, as far back as Polly's
pinafore days.
Polly came to the barbed wire some
, times, but she made no attempt to leap
over II. Always she was very, very
gay. and after her going Pearson count
! ed up his birthdays. ran his fingers
through the hair turning gray on his
temples, and called himself an old, old
fool.
The twilight hour that Polly leaned
over the wire to pin a rose that had
burned in the coils of her golden hair
on Pearson's coat she sang something
tender and foolish about the rose being
her heart.
"Your heart" Pearson chided; "It's
asleep. little child"
Its his heart that sleeps" said
Polly. ''The little white guest cham
ber that is mine has its door ajar. but
he won't come in, ever"
Afterwards he crept up to his roou
to drop his arms on his desk and his
head on his arms and sat there while
night gathered deep and deeper into
the room.
Pearson stumbled down the stairs,
that echoed to his footsteps, the empty,
lonely stairway over which no wom-
ans soft draperies ever trailed, and
out on the porch, there to find Polly on
the top step.
He sank down beside her. What
becomes of men who hang around the
side entrance of Heaven, straining
their ears to catch the music when
they know 1t is never possible for them
to slip in; what becomes OF middle
aged Peris. Polly?"
'T don't know" said Polly; "but
know what should become of them
scornfully. why doesn't your Peri gn
around to the front? Perhaps she
II aft Ia q
perhaps she sits on the doorstep and
. waits. perhaps"
"Polly,"
"He's-he's a wooden Indian" said
Polly. He lets the girl sit there or
his steps and pretend that she's look.
ing at the stars. He doesn't care. He
thinks she's a doll-baby stuffed with
sawdust, that she cares for all tn.
empty, gay, frivolous things that sh,
hates; he thinks she likes to be for
J ever surrounded by a lot of pink
checked, light-headed boys that bor'
her stiff And all the time she knows
I'm sure I don't know how. for h.
acts so queer-that he loves her. ani
that a little question of arithmeti,
troubles him II doesn't really trouble
her. The arithmetic of the heart ism
counted by years. He's lonely and sad
and she can put into his life all that :
has missed. but not unasSed. an
sometimes she's wild thinking thing
over" Polly's voice trailed OF int
silence. and she struggled with a sob.
The sob acted as an accolade OF
Pearson. 1t raised him into a knigh
erranI. bewildered. it's true. but read!
and eager to go to the very ends of tn
world. IL need be. after this derelic
who had stolen his little chum's hap
piness from her.
He put out his hand and 1t fell OF
Polly's bent head. Polly" he said
"Polly"-helplessly- he were her
beside you"
He is" sobbed Polly.