Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1904-12-08
MARCUS MILLER'S OUTING.
He Learned Therein the Secret of
Content.

| Four Track NeWS.-Marcus Miller
mother was dead, but his father was
good man who always followed the die
tates of lis conscience. He believed
it to be bad for his son to waste more
than month or two of the year at the
little school-house under the hill
Therefore Marcus Miller reached his
14th year without having retarded his
growth by over-study. His father also
believed that the best points in other
peoples souls are blunted by too much
leisure, so he kept him busy. Neither
did his parent believe in an unneces-
sary display of affection, consequently
the boy decided that the people who
wrote the few articles he had read on
the joys of living were liars.
When Marcus Miller was Is years
old his father died and went into ever
lasting glory-at least so the minister
said-and Marcus shed some bitter
tears at the funeral and wished that
his father had left a few tender mem
cries behind him rather than the big
farm. Then he took up the burden
where the old man left it, and went on
getting mere money and less happi-
ness as the years went by. Marcus
always hated to hear the minister
say. "The days If our years are three
score years and ten;" it seemed such a
long time to live. He often wondered
why wise providence hadn't cut the
limit to about half.
He was thinking about that one
evening as he sat on the porch gazing
abscltly at the morning-glory vines
that were trembling in the evening
breezes. So absorbed in thought was
he that he started when the gate-cha:n
ratified and the gate swung open to ad-
nit dusty bicyclist, who politely in
quired if he could procure a meal in
the ncighborhood.
A sudden longing for companion
ship prompted Marcus Miller to invite
the man in, and to order his servant to
set the table. The stranger, who was
an amiable fellow and wanted to make
himself agreeable, poured into the
thirsty ears OF Marcus a stream of de-
scription that nearly took his breath
away. He told him of the seas he
had crossed, and the Alps he had
climbed, of the cities he had visited
and the forests he had explored; and
Marcus Miller sat perfectly still, lis
tened with every nerve-enraptured as
Desdemona must have been when first
she saw The glowing pictures painted
by the words of Othello.
The stranger stayed until the moon
rose over the hill, then rode gayly
away. But the world was changed for
the man he left behind leaning on the
little picket gate. Marcus stood in
the moonlight, looking down the road,
the wander fever throbbing through
his veins-the world outside was calt
ing him-he wanted to go, to see, to
feel. He wanted to be rich in mem
cries like that man who had confessed
his povety of world goods. And for
the first time in his life Marcus Miller
realized that man with money may
be a pauper.
1t was soon after this night that peo-
pie began to notice that Marcus Miller
was acting queer. He no longer cared
for the village gossip, and talk of farm
implements seemed to bore him.
Often when he sat in the corner gro
Gerry down in the village, he looked
out of the door with eyes that seemed
to see something a thousand miles
away. And one day when an agent
came in with big, gold-framed chromos
he paid $3.50 for a pair of companion
pieces, the one being the rocky coast
OF almost anywhere, the other a state
ly ship sailing over a wild, tempestu.
Gus sea. And once when an old friend
of his father congratulated him on hav-
ing such a fine farm, he suddenly
sprang to his feet, and bursting out
Il hate being an anchored ship"
threw his clay pipe on the floor and
walked out into the night.
The next day the doctor called in a
casual way-just to take 1ook at the
prize cows, and incidentally suggest
ed to Marcus that he ought to take
treatment for his liver. But Marcus
uiSpldgeu no Interest III MS SugSeS-
ton: he was looking down the long
road, thinking long thoughts.
Soon after this Marcus startled the
village by offering his farm for sale or
rent-and the prophets at the corner
grocery declared that Marcus Miller
was going to the bad-certain it was
that he was going somewhere. To all
questions on the matter he answered,
Il am going to see the world,' in the
tone of one who announced the in
evitable.
And wise heads shook sadly over
his folly, and only one pair. of kindly
eyes held CLEAN of sympathy-they
belonged to old man Perkins. who had
in his youth taken in a 10-days' excur-
sion to the metropolis. the memory Of
which had followed him through the
years, and been the one bit of color in
his monotonous life. Obadiah Per-
kins was sometimes reminded of that
trip when he saw a crimson poppy wav-
ing in his potato patch. 81 don't know
as | blame you. Marcus" he said.
when you get to be as old as me you