The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1908-08-16


The end came suddenly in one day,
as often disappears the false afterglow
before a November sky and wind
Dry Valley was to call for the girl
one afternoon at for a walk. An
afternoon walk in Santa Rosa was a
feature of social life that called for the
pick of ones wardrobe. So Dry Valley
began gOrgeously to array himself; and
so early that he finished early, and
went over to the O'Brien cottage. As
he neared the porch on the crooked
walk from the gate he heard sounds of
revelry within. He stopped and looked
through the honeysuckle vines in the
open door.
Panchita was amusing her younger
brothers and sisters. She wore a mans
clothes-no doubt those of the late Mr.
O'Brien. On her head was the small
est brothers straw hat decorated with
an ink-striped paper band. On her
hands were Tapping yellow cloth
gloves, roughly cut out and sewn for
the masquerade. The same material
covered her shoes. giving them the
semblance of tan leather High collar
and flowing necktie were not omitted.
Panchita was an actress. Dry valley
saw mis- affectedly youthful gait. his
limp where the right shoe hurt him.
his forced smile, his awkward simula-
lation of a gallant air, all reproduced
with startling fidelity. For the first
time. a mirror had been held up to him
The confederation of one of the young
Sters calling Mama. come and see
Pancha Go like Mr.. Johnson was not
needed.
AS softly as the caricatured tans
would permit, Dry valley tiptoed back
to the gate and home again.
Twenty minutes after the time ap-
pointed for the walk Panchita tripped
demurely out her gate in a thin. trim
white lawn and sailor hat. She strolled
up the sidewalk and slowed her steps
at Dry Valleys gate, her manner ex-
pressing wonder at his unusual delin-
Quency.
Then out of his door and down the
walk strode-not the polychromatic
victim of a lost summertime, but the
sheepman, rehabilitated. He wore his
old gray wooden shirt. open at the
throat. his brown ducking treosurs
stuffed into his turnover boots and
his white felt sombrero on the back of
his head. Twenty years or fifty he
might look; Dry Valley cared not. His
light blue eyes met Panchitas dark
ones with cold flash in them. He
came as far as the gate. He pointed
with his long arm to her house.
Go home" said Dry Valley. go
home TO your mother. L wonder light
min don't strike a fool like me- Co
home and play in the sand. What bus
mess have you got cavortin' around
with grown men? 1 reckon 1 was To-
coed to be maxim he poll-parrot out
of myself for a kid like you. Go home
and don't let me see you no more
Why / done II, will somebody tell me?
Go home. and let me try to forget it,"
Panchita obeyed and walked slowly
toward her home. saying nothing. For
some distance she kept her head turned
upon Dry Valleys. At her gate she
stood for moment looking back at
him, then ran suddenly and swiftly into
the house.
Old Antonio was building a fire in
the kitchen stove. Dry Valley stopped
at the door, and laughed harshly
I'm pretty looking rhinoceros to
be gettin' stuck on kid, amt I, To-
nia?" said he.
tonia, sagely, "for too much old man
to likee muchacha."
You bet it amt" said Dry Valley.
grimly. IT'S DUN foolishness; and, be-
sides. il hurts"
He brought at one armful the regalia
of his aberration-the blue tennis suit,
shoes, hat. gloves and all. and threw
tnem IN a pile at AntOnla 1eet.
Give them to your old man. said
he Ito hunt antelope in
Just as the first star presided palely
over the twilight Dry Valley got his
biggest strawberry book and sat on the
back steps to catch the last of the
reading light. He thought he saw the
figure of some one in his strawberys
patch. He laid aside the book. got his
whip and hurried forth to see.
1t was Panchita. She had slipped
through the picket fence and was half
way across the patch. She stopped