The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1907-11-26
Language of
The Woods.
BY ETHEL HARRINGTON.
Copyrighted. 1907. by Jessie Morgan.
, ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

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Of the robin came the purring of the
mountain stream. little to the left
as it crawled over its STONY bed, lap
ping tender MOSES on either side and
stirring ferns and tiny white violets
into active growth.
Eliza Jane, seated on a decaying log
her feet deep In dry brown leaves, was
conscious Of all this, though her eyes
and fingers were busJN1oyer the writing
pad resting on her knee. She was writ.
ing verses. Back of her consciousness
was little silent laugh at the foolish
ness of such an occupation for her, a
staid teacher in a New England school.
Ten years had she held the position.
Never in all that period had she SO
wasted precious hours. 1t was as II the
past had been suddenly recalled. A
certain memorable day spent in the
Maine woods seemed by reason of her
present environment but yesterday,
whereas in truth it dated further back
than the monetonous grind of school
routine that now enslaved her. The
teacher salved her self respect for such
frivolous impulse. with the reminder
that 1t was vacation time. Work Of
any sort had been prohibited on pain
of nerves, already severely taxed, fail.
ing in the coming winter
She had inscribed the title above her
effusion in her neat, stir writing,
Language of the Woods" and the
simple words. faulty enough as poetry,
were illumined with sincerity. The
language Of the woods, unheard for
years, now in a different section of the
country came clear and insistent as on
that other holiday. Again she caught
the murmur Of hope In the swish Of
tall naples, drowning the sigh Of re-
greet among dark pines. The bridal
white of the dogwood rose against
cloudless sky. White, wind swayed
anemones, great purple violets and
creeping pOlogala, thrusting frail
heads high through decaying leaves
all spoke of imperishable youth and
love. A couple Of lines In her little
verses brought faint tinge Of color to
Eliza James pale cheek:
Amid lightning and hailstones and rain.
Came loves kiss In the pine woods of
Maine.
She let them remain because, like
an echo of the language of which she
wrote, they seemed to belong here.
Presently the rhymes were completed,
and, dropping both pad and pencil into
the basket that she had brought to
carry home such mountain treasures
as she might find, she rose and
stretched her arms with luxurious
abandon. 1t was wonderful to be free
from the cramp and irksome strain
OF routine. She breathed long and
deeply Of the invigorating air,
Il wonder, Elias, do you, too, remem-
Der? But of course not: you're a man
l don't myself, except here, where one
feels as if actually coming alive again
after being petrif1ed. I shall forget
my dignity when go back. It's only
the language of the woods after ALL"
Eliza Jane laughed half regretfully.
It was not unnatural that the place
should stir sentiment In her. 1t was
the same town to which Elias Smith
had come after their misunderstand-
ing, before they quite lost track Of
each other. Once, writing to her
cousin, she casually inquired for her
old friend. But Mrs. Hart answered
that, while she heard Of numberless
Smiths, she had yet to come across
one called Elias, which, in her judg-
ment, was a mercy, since 1t was an
ugly name, Scripture or no Scripture;
hence when Eliza Jane accepted the
invitation she had done so confident
she ran no risk Of meeting with her
boy lover.
Catching sight through the tangle Of
underbrush of a glowing mass OF
azaleas, she pushed her way through,
eagerly filing her hands. From one
shrub to another she wandered, some.
times higher up. the mountain side,
sometimes dropping back, but always
adding to her blossoms. When she
could carry no more. Eliza Jane paused
for breath. The fash of scarlet and
glossy black Of a tanager caught her
eye, and she held herself breathless
80 as not to scare him away.
When the green tangle swallowed
him up she realized her own fatigue
and retraced her steps to find her has
ket Search as she would, she could
not come upon it Back and forth she
walked, now climbing afresh the
rocky incline, now descending with
greater speed. At times stray bits OF
azalea caught on alien shrubs made
her realize with disgust that she was
covering ground already trodden. Her
watch proved the hour late; dinner
would be over and her coisin anxious
at her nonappearance. OF small value
in itself, the basket could be easily re-
placed. but the little spinster did not
relish leaving her inspiration Of the
woods to the mercy Of any stranger
passing that way. In the end she was
compelled to do so.
Usually self possessed, she STAN
mered while explaining her misfortune
on her return. Her cousin paused in
setting the warmed over dinner before
her to express her disapproyal.
Eat your age, Eliza Jane, to take to
rhymes. You'd better stick to teach
ing. There's some use and more money
in that"
Should any one find it," suggested
Eliza Jane uneasily.
"Is your name on it? No? Then
they'd never lay such nonsense at your
door. A schoolma'am is not supposed
to be hanging verses about the woods
like that young man we saw In the
play last winter"
Two days later while slipping her cot
fee Eliza Jane glanced carelessly over
the morning paper. Prominently on
the editorial page was printed a small
poem. The title seemed fairly to jump
out of the column at her, Language
of the Woods"
The cup clattered as she set 1t in the
saucer, and Mrs Hart looked up re-
proachfully.
"Lor', Eliza Jane, what scared you
nowY'
"My-my verses"-
For lands sakep Her cousin ap-
propriated the paper, and, adjusting
her glasses carefully, read in mono
tone, regardless Of all punctuation. the
verses Eliza Jane had penciled in the
woods. She cast suspicious glance at
her relatives bent head on reaching
the couplet:
Amid lightning and hailstones and rain,
Came loves kiss in the pine woods Of
Maine.
Perhaps womanly sympathy for any
thing bordering on romance held her
tongue, for she made no comment then
or ever, till 1t no longer mattered.
Listen. Eliza Jane" she continued,
with growing interest, "here's some re-
n. n