The Farmington times. (Farmington, St. Francois County, Mo.) 1905-1926, 1908-12-11

rheumatics. lay most OF our Ills
to the damps that rises FUN there.
Id sell the place an git away to-
morrcr ef there was any one to
buy"
no. no, | wouldn't have you.
You've got silly old wife, muonin'
over something she's lost sight OF,
and she went in with him to put
on the tcakettlc. lie carried the
basket Of grapes on one arm but
he put the other arm about her TO
help her a little An wen we say
grace, Huldy, well thank the Lord
We even he'd the pictcr and hev it
still to remember" h. said
In the doorway of e." little red
house on lower terrace of the
knoll two other persons were talk.
ing. as II CHANGED, upon tn" same
theme, The curve of the hin hid
all but gable of the little red
house in Pebbles pasture from the
eyes Of the old people above, and
the forest Of The swamp hid from
Il. also. the Wow OF plain aud river
and hill that had SO fed the poetry
In the soul Of the little mother
Wei" said Luzann". looking
over her husbands shoulder before
the closed easel and color box, ITS
urcat. this coming into tn" country 10
paint and photograph winter scenes
and finding yourself thut of from the
most glorious landscape you can
imagine"
Shut on" inquired her husband,
oh, you're content with the day Of
small things, Eugene! ! was til |
saw what lies on the other side Of that
great wet wood down there"
What is It? Morning and Greek
temples? Sunshine and rolling sea?
The purple OF the hills"
TITLES for pictures? No; pictures
themselves Just the vale Of AVoca,
the vale of Cashmirc the valley Of
Ayilion. fragI .cnt OF Eden. Some.
thing idyllic and perfect ! was on
the edge of the wood and got init
was SO alluriug deeper aud deeper,
till there | was scared to death Of the
morass-"
Poor child"
but It wasn't so wet. after all--its
been so dry-though there were spots
Just steamnG where the sun broke
through But skirt"d them and made
for the light, and the trees grew thin.
ner, and suddenly | was at the end,
and there. below and beyond, lay the
very outskirts OF Paradise. Yes, In.
deed, n view that would make our
everlasting fortunes and give Us sat
lsfaction in our souls If we could put
even bits of II on canvas Why, !
should feel I'd been chosen for sancti-
fcation II were only allowed to do
II. You must come down with me and
see for yourself. Eugene. | never
snail be content to so on painting old
Purple behind us there, now I've seen
this. And fancy. il that swampy wood
we're out of the way, We could sit
here all winter and sketch and feel
an uplift In every hrushful Of paint,
and every one OF the pictures would
be hung on the line next spring Isn't
II hard TO be shut out of Paradise by
bit OF woods? It's as bad as a
flaming sword"
I'm not shut out of Paradise said
her husband, looking at her with the
red on her cheeks, the spark In her
eyes. her whole face full of the spirit
OF life
ooh, | know, It's all delightful, our
being together here by ourselves, II
| Is Paradise, of course. But that view
out there would Justify It, and its
vexatious to have to go aficld for what
we might have from our own door
And it's too far, in the winter weather
every day. There's a Ions interval OF
champagne country from tender green
to dark, with warm russets, and 6
blush OF red sapphire, threaded witt
! creeks that are neither blue nor green
| but the green OF the grass and the
! blue OF the sky and the gold Of the
sun: and in the middle distance {
| river skins along the blue stoopini
! into it, and beyond are hills clothed
with level layers of pine forest AM
you look straight into their depths a.
If you penetrated mysteries and ovel
all is n bountiful, enormous sky, bu'
as blue and carrying here and there
mares tail Of n snowy cloud. AnC
! gulis-you ought to see the l0,00'
gulls swooping round the river' oh
rs no use staying here with that t
tantalizc us. the breadth, the large
ness, the freedom-and only old pur
pie hills to console us. One picture
of old Purple and there's an end. Blu
this-why, you could paint all winte
and not exhaust 1t. Think of it, will
the blue shadows OF the snow, wit
sunsets like fires on a great hearth
In a dark blue midnight, while tn
stars shake in the wiu.! II we coul
wake up some morning and find
gone!"
"The days of miracles are gone"
"Oh, my, It makes me cross"
Il wouldn't be cross, sweet purvcl
or Of motifs. I'd come in and max
my husband cup OF tea. and the