The Plymouth tribune. (Plymouth, Ind.) 1901-1911, 1905-06-01
CHAPTER ".


They had reached the summit OF the
highest of the sand mounds that lie as If
in little eddies of that mighty stream
that once swept from the great lakes
down the valley Of the Wabash toward
the ocean.
"Was there ever anything so lovely
Look at that faint golden green of the
fringing willows of this bright, bright
river! And the darker green deepening
into blue and purple of the patches of
woodland on the other side. And then
beyond that, the upward sweep of the
strange, fair, lonely, lonely, solemn prai-
RE. 1 could never be unhappy nor great
ly disconnected in the presence of scene
like this"
Lizzy had inyoluntarily turned away
from him, holding her hand outstretched,
in sort of girlish ecstasy cf admiration
toward the wide river bottom and the
boundless prairie beyond.
They stood in silence for almost min
ute. their eyes resting upon bright
reach of limpid, sparkling river cut off by
a mass of the distant blue green wood
land, now upon a dim and misty light
blue vista of valley that from the dark
"
woodland drawn up in martial array to
witness the passage of the unceasing
flood of waters, led on and on into the
underlined dominions of northern sky,
isIanded with banks of unmoving clouds
of creamy white.
"You are a poet, Miss Lizzy. And /
am not" said the assistant geologist,
presently. 81 think this fact fully ex-
plains the great difference between us.
You can never weary of the beautiful
things of wood and field and food 1, on
the other hand, must have the beautiful
and the good in some human creature"
He spoke this last sentence almost in
an inaudible murmur, and now with his
head turned away and the cane making
broadsword sweeps among the ranks of
hostile jimsons.
| I'VE must go on, Mr.. Philosopher, or
we shall be too late to make very thor
ough inspection of the field of your sp ring
labors. And | have not forgotten, too,
that l had put you upon dangerous
ground by my question few moments
ago. How do you answer itY'
They began the walk again, now dis
appearing from the vision of the three
hundred pairs of eyes. in the thickest of
hazel and dwarf oak that intermediated
between the sandy prairie land of the
river bottom and the primeval forest Of
the upland hills. Unconsciously they had
quickened their pace as if it had been
the beauty of the valley and prairie that
had held them back heretofore.
| Il meant to express my view that the
proletary is that immovabIe, imperish-
able, immutable, base and germinal OF
humanity out Of which has always grown
| the slender and comparatively sparse,
delicate and perishable roots and flowers
the educated, the refined, the intellec-
tual men and women, and even cities and
communities of the earth. But I'm afraid
you will look upon this as a lecture, Miss
Lizzy. And if remember. you have
stipulated against lectures"
| 'sThen your lecture at Mount Zion forr
weeks ago"
WAS aimed at you, Miss Lizzy, must
confess. thought that I saw In you
great possibilities, If only there were
behind you the motive power of necessity
for continued exerticn, coupled with the
| physical ability to cope with SUI aimed
effort-or rather to achieve sustained ef-
fort And If mistake not, the seed fell
upon fallow ground. Have / not seen
you armed with hoe and sunbonnet per-
forming prodigies in the well-kept gar
den behind your fathers house? Believe
me or not, Miss Lizzy, to the extent OF
my deserts-you have really taken a long
step toward quieting the Argus of Sand
town. After awhile it will blink com
placently upon all your goings in and
your comings out. There goes a fox
| squirrel. How the wary scamp runs
straight for his own fortress, past many
inviting trees"
/ But you are quite sure that my gar
den exercises are the direct result OF
your Mount Zion lecture, Mr.. Philoso-
pherT she said. with a little pique dis
closed in her voice, as well as in the
arched brows and the dropping lids.
Might / not arrive independently at the
conclusion thatSI ought to work thee gar
den, as Mr.. Redden puts it? But my.
what heap Of ugly red dirt, Mr.. Ma
son. Is this where you get all the heaps
/ of ugly rough stones that / saw in the
Office of the State geologist once?
They went on through the woods slip.
ping down steep declivities, through beds
Of brown leaves knee deep, IeapIng across
little slender, shade riIls, pulling great
punches Of "sweetwiliam" her and there,
looking At the surprisingly tan. slendel