Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-01-15

ony. His hand took up the ax, and forgot the sword and gun. Day after day he stood looking about him, exam ming and studying in little all the strange things which he saw; seeking to learn as much as might be of the timorous savages, who in time began to struggle back to their ruined vil- lages; talking, as best he might, through such interpreting as was pos- sible, with savages who came from the west of the Messasebe, and from the south and from the far southwest;
 hearing, and learning and wondering of land which seemed as large as all the earth, and various as all the lands that lay beneath the sun-that
 west, so glorious, so new, so bound- less, which was yet to be the home of countless hearth-fires and the sites of myriad fields of corn. Let others hunt,
 and fish, and rob the Indians of their furs, after the accepted fashion of the time: as for John Law, he must look about him, and think, and watch this growing of the corn
 He saw it fairly from it's beginning, this growth of the maize, this plant
 which never yet had grown on Scotch
 or English soil; this tall, beautiful,
 broad-bladed, tender tree, the very em-
 blem of all fruitfulness. He saw here and there, dropped by the careless
 hand of some departed Indian woman. the little germinating seeds, just thrusting their pale-green heads up through the soil, half broken by the tomahawk. He saw the clustering green shoots-numerous, in the sign of plenty-all crowding together and clamoring for light, and life, and air, and room. He saw the prevailing of the tall and strong upthrusting stalks, after the way of life; saw the others dwarf and whiten, and yet cling on at the base of the bolder stem, parasites, of life.
 He saw the great central stalks spring boldly up, so swiftly that it al- most seemed possible to count the successive leaps of progress. He saw the strong-ribbed leaves thrown out, waving a thousand hands of cheerful welcome and assurance-these blades of the corn, so much mightier than any blades of steel He saw the broad heckoning banners of the pale tassels bursting out atop of the stalk, token of fecundity and of the future. He caught the wide-driven pollen as 1t whitened upon the earth, borne by the parent west wind, mother of increase. He saw the thickening of the green leaf at the base, it's swelling, it's growth and expansion, till the indefi- nite enlargement showed at length the incipient ear.
 He noted the faint brown of the ends of the sweetly-enveloping silk of the ear, pale-green and often underneath the sheltering and protecting husk. He found the sweet and milk-white tender kernels, row upon row, forming rapidly beneath the husk, and saw at length the hardening and darkening of the husk at it's free end, which told that man might pluck and eat.
 And then he saw the fading of the tassels, the darkening of the silk and the crinkling of the blades; and there, borne on the strong parent stem. he noted now the many full-rowed ears, protected by their husks and heralded by the tassels and the blades. Come, come ye, all ye people! Enter in, for I will feed ye all!" This was the song of the maize, it's invitation, it's coun- sel, its promise.
 Under the warped lodge frames which the fires of the Iroquois had spared, there were yet visible clusters of the ears of last years corn. Here, under his own eye, were growing yet other ears, ripe for the harvesting and ripe for the coming growth. A strange spell fell upon the soul of Law. Visions crossed his mind, born in the soft warm air of these fecundating winds, of this strange yet peaceful scene.
 At times he stood and looked out from the door of the palisade, when the prairie mists were rising in the morning at the mandate of the sun, and to his eyes these waving seas of grasses all seemed beckoning fields of corn. These smokes, coming from the broken tepees of the timid tribesmen, surely they arose from the roofs of happy and contented homes! These wreaths and wraiths of the twisting and wide stalking mists, surely these were the captains of a general husbandry! An, John Law, John Law! Had God given thee the right feeling and contented heart, happy indeed had been these days in this new land of thine own, far from ignoble strivings and from fevered dreams, far from aimless strug- gles ssnd unregulated avarice, far from oppression and from misery, far from bickerings, heart -burnings and envy ings! An, John Law! Had God but given thee the pure and well-contented heart! For here in the Messasebe, that Mind which made the universe and set man to be one of its little inhabitants surely that Mind had planned that man should come and grow in this place, tall and strong, and fruitful, useful to all the world, even as this swift, strong growing of the maize.
 CHAPTER XXIII.
 THE BRINK OF CHANGE. The breath of autumn came into the