Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1905-03-02

, lUoS VI Ill6 uOulCiJ DsailS VI his ILuB-
land far--far away.
Brightly as in May the sun shines
this morning, so bright that 1t might
be June instead of October; so warm
hat May, as she stands on the lawn,
clad In sealskin, watching the pigeons
lowering over the old elms, might
gladly exchange that article Of cloth
ing for simple muslin.
1t is long past noon, luncheon
breakfast it might reasonably have
been called, for 1t is Mays first meal
is over; Nj. Dalton ha: gone to look
at a new horse In the Stable and the
two girls are left to their own de-
vices. Carrie has made suggestion,
anent morning calls, but May will not
hear of 1t.
what" she said. Waste the
glorious afternoon in stuffy drawing
rooms, talking nothing TO people for
whom one doesn't care a button? %
No, morning calls were out of the
question.
LET us go down to the river" says
Carrie. "You shall take your sketch
book and paint, and tell me all about
ire ball, May, dear" AID this, being
proposal after Mays own heart, is
eagerly adopted, on the condition that
Carrie collects and carries the sketch
ing materials.
Side by side the two girls wend their
way, the one just standing on the edge
of the brook which divides girlhood
from womanhood the other from a lit.
tie distance looking wistfully at the
magic stream.
Together, with Carries arm around
Mays waist, they cross the lawn, and
make their way to the river.
Carries clear young treble arises
and mingles with the birds who, sur.
prised by the unwonted glory. Of the
morning. have ventured into song.
May walks along in silence; terpsicho.
rean exercise extended to the small
hours Is novel to her. and the bloom
on her cheeks is just little paled
there is a touch Of thoughtfulness
about her dark brown eyes that rem
ders them downcast and dreamy, the
red, ripe, expressive lips--they are
none the paler for last lights disspa.
tlon-are slightly parted with faint
smile that may have been called up by
the recollection of some incident of her
first public ball.
Carrie sings through two verses OF
that popular song, in which the en-
amored young gentleman invites his
mistress, named Maud, to a nocturnal
promenade In the garden, and Is about
to start the third when Mays unusual
silence strikes her for the first time,
"How quiet you are, May. Are you
tired? You said you weren't l be-
lieve you are quite tired out"
ooh, you think so, do you? Well,
I'm not too tired to give you start
to that first oak, and race you down
to the bank, and I'll carry the paint
! box into the bargain"
"You rum she says; you've forgot.
Ten how to, Why, | could give you a
start Now" she calls back, having
reached the oak, and away she skins
her fair hair streaming behind her
her paints and brushes rafting in
their box, and May starts in hot pur'
suit,
1t is sight to set the heart of a
poet or a painter aglow with delight,
but there Is neither poet nor painter
nor any less prosaic being in sight,
It Is October, and the silver river,
which all the summer through bears
and apparently neyer-ending process
sion of pleasure-boats, is seemingly
deserted. A solitary liingshshcr starts
aGfiehtedly from the ruhes by the
bank, and skins swiftly into the woods
that rise terrace-like, on the other
side. and waterrat, who has been
talking to a wren, darts painting into
his front parlor.
It is a close race. and Carries long
thin legs do their part girlfully; but
May has not forgotten her schoolgirl
days, and before Carrie can reach
the narrow line of gravel made on the
grassy tow.path by the barge horses
May Is before her; there is burst OF
laughter, then-hreathless, the two
girls sink on to the trunk Of a felled
tree and pant
II didn't think you could run SO fast
still, May" says Carrie. "Oh, dear!
shall never get my breath again and
oh, isn't It beautiful" she adds, nod
ding at the golden-crimson red-hrown
bouquets of leaves that still cling
lovingly to tho trees rising on the
other side of the river, Isn't it beau
tiful and, oh, May It's even more love
" in summer, when the boats are on. =
II think should not like 1t better
than now" says May, thoughtfully
Can we so on to the other side?"
"Oh, yes" says Carrie "if we can
cross the river Let us walk UP to the
ferryman's cottage and call him to
take us across, 1t will be lovely In
the woods"
Come along. then" says May. with
alacrity, and they walk quietly