The enterprise. [volume] (Harlem, Mont.) 1899-1926, 1909-05-19

So he gathered his neighbors, an(
with the company of those who hat
listened to his song, they left thei1
own gardens and went rejoicing upor
the great pilgrimage.
Now many years passed ere the
man returned again to his own. He
had succeeded, according unto the
measure of his hope-he had helped
to lift the burden of the world. There
fore did his voice ring out joyously
as at the head of the pilgrim army he
was borne with shouts of triumph
along the familiar road-hailed as
savior of men!
Eagerly among the welcoming mul
titude his eye sought her who once
had dwelt by his side. Brightly and
with confidence his thoughts returned
at last to the one who had made no
demands upon them-the woman who
had no needs-yet she came not forth
to greet him!
Now the pilgrims passed a garden
plot choked with weeds and wild
grasses. Once there had been hedge,
but now the thick underbrush grew
out into the highway and the tangled
trees hid the homestead. Yet some
thing strangely familiar about the neg
lected garden half awakened fragrant
memories stifled in the stress of later
years. The leader spoke to those who
bore him and all that mighty throng
surged and pressed against the hedge
yet the woman came not forth.
Where is she?" the man cried, in
sudden, dreadful doubt-and through
the host a murmur swept and swelled.
Where is she?"
But ere the echo of that cry had
hushed an aged wayfarer tottered
from the deserted garden and the null
titude listened as their leader sprang
to embrace him:
"Father-Father! Lean on me-"
AT last, my SOM" the old man fall
tered. AT last-and alas, my SOM"
But, father! Why do you weep?
Behold the vast company of the
saved"
The old man turned his face SORROW
fully toward the garden choked with
weeds. Il see only this plot" he MUIR
INJURED brokenly. Here have l dwelt
these many years"
"Dwelt-here?" the other repeated
in bewilderment. 'No-but in thy
homeland with her who always kept
the garden well. Why is not she too
here to welcome? Why do you not
both rejoice with me, father, in this
my hour? Waste no more thought on
this plot of weeds. Tomorrow we
will find the owner Of the garden and
help him restore his home"
TOO late, my son! Have you in
deed forgotten? The man whose home
It was is here"
What! The plot is yours, dear ia
.her?"
Poor boy!" The old man fell upon
his sons neck and clasped him close.
After all, only my poor boy-blind to
MS own! How we both have loved
and I. The plot is yours,
ny SOM"
The singer shook with sudden fear
and strained forward, peering into the
tense foliage.
rather" he gasped in trembling
anguish. Where-is-she?
The old man drew himself upright,
Gaming both hands upon his staff.
While her strength lasted, she kept
he garden WELL as you have said my
on; and when her strength was gone"
he led the man by a twisted path
leep into the heart of the underbrush
-"she waited for you-here."
Blindly the singer stumbled into
ne little clearing and cast his eyes
hudderingly to the ground. In az
'nized memory, he who went forth to
ave the world fell upon the grave
hat marked the spot where once his
'ome-and hers-had stood.
How many years-how many years
ince he had left his own!
Beloved" she had faltered on this
cry spot, I'VE are part of the rest
GU and l. You are destroying yourself.
is too great price TO pay!"
And he had answered, obsessed only
y his mission: "Afterwards-I will
est"
Afterwards Was this their after
Yards? The murmur of the multitude
e-echoed in his stricken heart:
Where is she?"
The man stretched wide his arms
yer the mound. "1t is too great a
rice to pay, beloved All.
erily l KNOW know! My empty
cart bears witness for the heart | set
t naught-too great a price, beloved
even for the pain of the whole