The enterprise. [volume] (Harlem, Mont.) 1899-1926, 1908-12-09

but still fair with beauty of the
spirit blossomed out on the pale face
whose smile was sweet as ever. Her
husband, tall and thin and brown,
glanced at her now and then as if he
still saw the loneliness she wore when
he brought her home his wife. And
as she looked up at him he was still
the stalwart youth, the touch of whose
strong hand once made her heart beat
so madly Their children were all
gone: some to the further life, some
returning for a holiday
TO think" she said, that the day
YOU fetched me here | could sit in the
all blue an silver, and the low hills
beyond, with their black pine woods
an the sunshine falling through, and
all the wide mash an the haystacks,
an the colors changin' on EN-. 1t
seemed to mel do no what it
seemed to me. Oh, heaven can't be no
more beautiful than that was, lookin'
down this side the knoll There's a
big bunch most beyond your hand,
jes' drippin' 18th juice
And one day you cut down the
big elms at the back there
Hated to- a tree allus seems to
me to have life of its own, most
as much as a man has. I don't feel no
assurance I amt settin' sperrit free
But there, who knows. Anyway it
cleared a slightly spot for you on
t'other side"
Il don't care. I wisht that swamp
could be struck by lightnin' fust!"
''Lightnin' never struck hull ten
acre lot at onst."
ut might set fire to it,"
'An' burn up somebody's wood lot!
Why, Hubby, I'm 'shamed on ye!"
You orter be, I'm 'shamed on my
self. But feel jes so. We amt got
many years to live, as you say; and
I'd like to see that likeness of the
promised land an hev Laury see it.
do no as Asa'd care so much. Laury
likes it open all about her. Shed stay
here more. Shed hev her colored
chalks out in no time. Them paintin
be give her some hints. An yo'
know the minister said Laury he'd :
real Gift for drorin But there, she
won't be here tell Christmas time
Sakes alive, father, what a Christmas
it'd be 18th that swamp burned up
well, we'll, wife, as long as we've
got each other, an the children, here
and in heaven, and enough to keep thu
wolf from the door
81 know. And I'm silly An thu
dear Lord knows l amt maxim nj
fuss I'm jes' sayin' what I'd like.
did useter love that sight-an' thu
Lord made it. My, guess he love'
beautiful thin's, tew. l set by it.. Tn
happy as thin's are; but I'd be happie
eff that was throwed in.'
Like a chrome down to the stor
wen you're tradin' your butter. Wa
it's time give Brindle her supper, an
she give me mine. l hope the day.
be long O. comm Wen I can't milk m
COW an take her sweet breath al
made O. clover blows. THERE CUES
the birds may have all I've left
There's bunch on top for luck. Yes
there they be, comm after it now
You can't make jell 18th them grapes
they're too ripe, little mother.
They'll make sweetmeat, all right.
"An' thes nothin' nicern your crap
sweetmeat 18th my meat. But, Lol
sakes, guess you'd cook sawdust so
would be tasty I'm glad We've go
suthin' to cook with-not like Their
city folks, dependin' on coal an non
tn deuend on. That's a noble wood
pile we've got. There's nothin' Xix
bein' forehanded. Come, it's gittin
dampish, an you'd better be thinkin
o. your rheumatics. Eff they'd dreel
that swamp You wouldn't be havln