Heppner gazette. [volume] (Heppner, Morrow County, Or.) 1892-1912, 1909-11-18


ers, and then paused.
He was early. There was still time
TO reflect Had the carriage arrived
at that moment he would have gone;
! but il tarried, and the tide Of love and
! regret bore back to the old famil-
! lar life. Il cannot go. | cannot give
1t up he murmured to himself
| Torn by conflicting emotions, inclin-
| ing TO first one course and then anoth-
err he finally turned his face away
from the bridge and fed. impelled by
weakness rather than desire. He did
| not once look back, but ran at the top
OF his speed straight to the old barn
and hid himself rom sight. There,
breathless and miserable he watched
He had not long to wait. The dazzling
turn out" dashed into view. On the
high seat he beheld Pepeeta. saw the
eager glance she cast at the farm
house. followed her until they arrived
at the bridge. beheld her disappoint-
ment, raved at his own weakness,
rushed to the door, halted, returned,
rushed back again, returned, threw
hlmsef upon the sweet smelling hay,
cursed his weakness and indecision
and finally surrendered himself to mis-
cry.
from the utter wretchedness Of that
bitter hour, he was reused by the ring
ing OF the breakfast bell. Springng
TO his feet, he hastened to the spring.
bathed has face, assumed a cheerful
look and entered the house:
For the first time in his life he at
tempted the practice Of deception, and
experienced the bitterness of CARRYING
guilty secret in his bosom. How he
worried through the morning meal and
the prayer at the family altar, he never
knew, and he escaped with inexpressi-
Die relief to the stable and the field to
take up the duties Of his daily life. He
found 1t plodding work, for the old in
spirations to endeavor had utterly van
ished He who had hitherto found toll
a beatitude now moved behind the
ploW like a common drudge.
Tired of the pain which he endured>
ne trled again and again to forget the
Whoie experience and to persuade him
self that he was glad the adventure
mad ended; but he knew in his heart
OF hearts that he had failed to follow
the gypsy, not because he did not real
ly wish to, but because he did not
wholly dare. The consciousness that
he was not only a bad man but a cow
ard, added a new element to the bit
terness of the cup he was drinking.
Each succeeding day was a repetI-
ton of the first, and became painful
unrest. The very world in which he
lived seemed to have undergone a
transformation. The sunlight had lost
its glory, the flowers had become pale
and odorless, the songs of the birds
dull and dispiriting.
Some men pass their lives in the
midst OF environments where insincer-
fty would not have been so painful:
but in home and a community where
sham and hypocrisy were almost un-
known these perpetual deceptions be-
came more and more intolerable with
every passing hour. Nothing could
be more certain than that in a short
time, like some foreign substance In a
healthy body, his nature would force
him out Of this uncongenial environ
ment. With some natures the expert
ence would have been a slow and pro-
tracted one, but with him the termina-
tion could not be long delayed
1t came in a tragedy at the close of
the next Sabbath. The day had been
dreary, painful and exasperating be-
yOnd all endurance, and he felt that he
could never stand the strain of anoth-
er. And SO. having detained his moth
er in the sitting room after the rest Of
the family Lad retired, he paced the
floor for a few moments, and after
several unsuccessful attempts to intro
duce the subject gently, said bluntly:
Mother l am chatting myself to
death against the limitations of this
narrow life
My son." she said, calmly, this has
not come to me as a surprise"
He moved uneasily and looked as If
he would ask her Why"
Because" she said, as if he had
really spoken, "a mother possesses the
power of divinatlon, and can discern
the sorrows Of her children by suf-
fering in her own BOSOM"
The consciousness that he had
caused her pain rendered him incapa-
BILE of speech, and for a moment they
sat in silence.
What is thy wish and purpose, my
son SIlt SIShtu dl ldSlJ Will ali cllOTl
which seemed to exhaust her strength.
Il wish to see the world" he an
swered, his eye kinding as he spoke
Il have seen 1t in my dreams. l have
heard it's distant voices calling to me.
My spirit chafes to answer their sum-
mons. | strain at my anchor like n
great ship caught by the tide"
Shall tell thee what this world Of
which thee has dreamed such dreams
is really like my son? l WILL" she
said, regarding him with a look which
seemed to devour him with yearning
love This world whose voices thee
hears calling is a fiction OF thine own
brain That which thee thinks thee
beholds Of glory and beauty thee hast
conjured up from the depths Of n
youthful and disordered fancy, and
projected into an unreal realm. That
world which thee has thus beheld in
thy dreams will burst like pin n-prick
ed bubble when thee tries to enter IT.
II is not the real world. my son. How
shall / tell thee what that real world
is? 1t is a snare, q pit-fall. 1t is a
flame into which young moths are ever
plunging. 1t promises. only to de-
ceive: 1t beckons, only to betray; its
smiles are ambushes; II is sunlight on
the surface, but ice at the heart: IL
offers life hut IL confers death I hid