The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1906-09-13

open, his first thought was that all
things had stopped-the world had
come to it's end. Then remembrance
came, and he stretched in lazy enjoy
ment of the stiffness and the soft
feather bed upon which he had slept.
Finding himself too wide awake for
more sleep, he went over to the little
gable window and looked out. The
| unfermented wine of another spring
| day came to his eager nostrils. The
little ball had made another turn. Its
cheek was coming once more into the
light. Already the east was flushing
with wondrous vague pink. The lit
tie animals in the city over there, he
thought, would soon be tumbling out
of their beds to begin another of their
funny, serious days of trial and fail
of forgetfulness, when their absurd lit
| tie ant-hill should turn again away
from the big blazing star. He sat
long time at the window, looking out
to the east, where the light was show
ing; meditating on many idle, little
matters, but conscious all the time ct
great power within himself. He felt
ready now for any conflict. The need
for some great immediate action
pressed upon him. He did not identify
it. Something he must do-he must
| have action-and that at once. He
was glad to think how Uncle Peter
would begin to rejoice in him-secretly
at first and then to praise him. He
was equal to any work. He could not
| begin it quickly enough. That queer
| need to do something at once was still
pressing, still unidentified.
BY five he was downstairs. The girl,
fresh as dew-sprayed rose in the gar
den outside, brought him breakfast of
fruit, bacon and eggs, coffee and waf-
fles. He ate with relish, delighting
| meantime in the girls forid freshness,
| and even in the assertive, triumphant
| whistle of the youth busy at his tasks
| outside.
When he set out he meant to reach
the car and go back to town at once.
Yet when he came to the road ovsr
which he had loitered the day before,
he turned off upon it with slower steps.
| There was confusing whirl of ideas
in his brain, a chaos that required all
his energy to feed it, so that the spring
went from his step.
| Then all at once a newborn world
cohered out of the nebula, and the
sight of it's measured, orderly whirling
dazed him. He had been seized with a
wish-almost an intention, so stunning
in its audacity that he all but reeled
under the shock. 1t seemed to him
that the thing must have been germin-
ated in his mind without his knowl-
edge; it had lain there, gathering force
while he rested, now to burst forth and
dazzle him with it's shine. All that
undimmed freshness of longing he had
felt the day before-all the unnamed,
unidentified, nameless desires-had
| flooded back upon him, but now no
longer aimless. They we're acutely
definite. He wanted Avice Milbrey-
wanted her with an intensity as I'M
reasoning as it was resistless. This
was the new world he had watched
swimming out of the chaos in his
mind, taking it's allotted orbit in
planetary system of possible, rational,
matter-of-course proceedings.
| And Avice Milbrey was to marry
Shepler, the triumphant money king.
He sat down by the roadside, we'll
| nigh helpless, surrendering all his
| forces to the want.
Then there came upon him to rein
force this want burning sense of de-
feat. He remembered Uncle Peters
first warnings in the mine about "cup-
| board love-" the gossip Of Higbee: "If
you were broke, she'd have about as
| much use for you" all the talk he
had listened to SO long about marriage
| for money; and, at the last, Shepler's
words to Uncle Peter: 81 was uncer-
tain until copper went to ST." Those
| were three wise old men who had
talked, men who knew something of
| women and much of the world. And
| they we're so irritating in their GER
tainty. What fine play to fool them
all!
The sense of defeat burned into him
more deeply. He had been vanquished,
cheated, scorned, shamefully flouted.
The money was gone-all of Uncle
Peters complaints and biting sarcasms
| came back to him with renewed bitter
| ness; but his revenge on Uncle Peter
| would be in showing him big man
| at work, with no nonsense about him.
But Shepler, who was now certain,
| and Higbee, who had always been GER
ain-especially Shepler, with his easy
sense of superiority with woman
| over any poor man. That was a diff
ferent matter. There was a thing to
think about And he wanted Avice
Milbrey. He could not, he decided, go
back without her. .5 d.
The great wild wish narrowed itself
| into a definite plan. He recalled the
story Uncle Peter had told at the Old
| akers' about the woman and her hair.
A woman could be coerced if a man
knew her Weakness He could c0erce