Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1908-10-01

LIS no" lie Win untlr1ng energy. He
mad purchased five thousand acres Of
land with the house, and he intended
to be his own land agent. He had his
own ideas of what constituted model
estate, and here was wide field for
his labors. The property had been
shamefully neglected, and he resolved
to make it the envy Of every farmer
and landowner in Essex. There
We're a thousand things to be thought
or and planned out, thousand things
to be done under his personal super.
vision. He did not spare himself.
from morning to night he rode round
MS property. And when dinner-time
came, he was so tired that he was
glad to get the meal over and go to
bed
Sunday was the only day of rest he
allowed himself, and each week he
looked forward to 1t with increasing
dread. for rest meant time for thought,
and thought meant all the terrors Of
regret
He had often spent part of this day
or ldleness In a place which was par
ticularly unsuitable for man who
was inclined to melancholy But it
attracted him for two very dissimilar
reasons: one, because it seemed in
harmony with his thoughts, and the
other because he had an idea of doing
away with the place altogether, and
he could not decide how to carry out
out the work
On the eastern edge of the park
there was a wide belt of trees which
stretched along the very boundary of
the estate. At one point a large clear
Ing, had been made in this wood, and
the space, which gradually sloped to.
wards the center, had been laid out
IN most peculiar manner Against
the trees themselves there was wide
fringe of lawn, studded with flower
beds. Then there was d circular gray
ell path, running parallel to the fringe
of lawn; then there was another belt
of lawn, and then low wall, orna-
mented at intervals with small and
grotesque statues.
All this was apparently but set
ting for-the center Of the circle, and
visitor might justly have expected
to find something of beauty on the
other side Of the wall-a magnificent
fountain, a group of statuary-a smi-
Ing lake dotted with water lilies, a
blaze Of rare flowers.
But in this he would have been
disappointed. The wall, which seem
ed low on the side which faced the
trees, sank down on the other side 70
a much greater depth. 1t merely en-
closed tidal pool, which was join
ed to the creek outside by stone
culvert. At high tide the pool was
half full of muddy water, and at low
tide it was only bare patch Of mud,
wet, glistening, and loathsome to look
upon.
Local tradition stated that the
place had once been used as bath
ing pool, and that century ago the
water was clear as crystal. But, if
there was any truth in the legend,
some ancient system of purifying the
water must have been lost, for no self
respecting person could possibly have
bathed in the brown Shiny liquid
which surged up through the culvert
twice in every twenty-four hours
John Shil one day took long pole,
and thrust it into the mud, which Law
at the bottom. Leaning over the edge
of the wall, he buried the bamboo six
feet in the slime, and even then he
did not reach the hard ground be-
meath.
1t was here, by the side OF this tidal
pool, that John Shil, after five weeks
residence at Black Hall, spent an aft
ernoon which was destined to leave
its mark for ever in the story Of his
life.
A fight Of broken steps ran down
from the wall to the pool, and he was
sitting on the last step but two, with
his feet almost on the edge of the wa
ter. The tide was still flowing, and
the surface of the pool was stirred
with little garments and eddies as the
sea forced its way through the cul-
vert.
The tide, regular and resistless as
the advance Of time, had always had
a strange fascination for the young
man. The ebb and flow Of it seemed
to pulse like a human life-birth and
death, ebb and flow, for all eternity.
And here, in the silence of the clois-
tered trees and the sunlit lawns, it had
a new and mysterious charm. There
was no roar of the waves, no thunder
of breakers on the shore, no swirl of
the waters past pier-head or groin Yet
the force was still there Silent and
irresistible, it had crept up from the
great sea Itself. over miles of sand
bank, past great spaces of lonely
marshland, moving on and on through
narrowing channels till It had reach
ed this spot. And here 1t ceased, in n
tiny eddy Of muddy waters-one Of
the last quiver1ng nerves in throb-
bling system that covers the oceans Of
the world
This link with the great sea of tall
ships and distant climes had peculiar
charm for John Shil in his loneliness,
and his thoughts strayed to the things
outside his park and the great scheme
of life from which he had withdrawn
a man overpowered in
battle
And as he thought Of the things that
had been and of all that he had los,
his heart cried out in rebellion against
the DEGREES of fate.
what have I done?" he said to him.
self. why has God broken me like
a worthless jar? And what has she
done, my beloved; what crime has she
committed that she should be tied for