Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-10-16

Al|ASl L(S1I your o + e a a
~ dishes, amt you?"
T II And Alice would
have laughed before she answered.. oie
uaually laughed first and spoke afterWard
The young Joy of life touched her RADIANT
Iy; she responded like child to the thrill
of the untranslated emotion, and inter-
preted it later.
But the white farmhouse at the end OF
the line of arching maple trees was half
a mile from a neighbor, and no one was
likely to discover her Housekeeping Vaga-
ries 1t had been such good morning.
She smiled little dimpling smile as She
poured the scalding water from one milk
can to another with deft turn, while the
rising cloud of steam dampened the ten
drills of blond hair blown about her fore
head by the breeze from the open door,
Robert had done the churning out on the
broad back porch before he went to ths
field. He would never let her do it,
though she was quite sure she was strong
enough. A year ago. when she had first
entered upon her new existence as farm
er's wife, the metamorphosis OF can OF
cream into mass of crumbling yellow but
ter had been interesting to the point OF
excitement Robert had wanted to sell
TWO OF the COWS, Dut sic Aou DC66Ou ~
. keep them. Why could not she learn TO
make butter? He could take it to Milburn,
and the money would buy-she would
show him what the money would buy.
"A regular little farmer Robert had
laughingly called her, saying that he be-
lieved she liked the country all the better
for having always lived in town. OF
course she did: she had known it would
bod o6d hof CHI
would have liked South Africa or Alaska
but he had not let her finish the sentence.
So this morning she had chosen to work
her butter out on the porch. packing It
away, sweet and firm In the little brown
jars. while the morning GOODNESS was still
in the air. AS she patted and squeezed
the golden mass, the breeze came spiced
with the poisoning plum trees and the
smell Of the freshening earth. The tangled
network Of the grapevine that grew at the
end Of the porch was dotted with buds of
misty green. tipped and veined with rose
A wren had hoped up on the lowest step.
a f1uttering feathered ball of joy, and had
taken her into his confidence with one
gush of song. then flown away to help his
mate, who was busily filling the pump
with twigs. Foolish little things They
should have a better place to build as
soon as she could get the butter out OF the
way. Although she could not have put it
into words, she felt herself at one with all
nest-building creatures. She was a part
Of this vibrating harmony of color and
perfume and song.
When she went down into the cool
gloom of the cellar with the butter jars,
che rummaged out an old starch box from
a pile provided for future needs. and with
saw and hammer, borrowed from the barn.
yet to work to make it habitable. She was
not q skillful carpenter, and the nails
came through at unexpected places: In
deed, some of them only went in half their
,ength and then turned over: but they held
.rather better that way, SO it did not mat
ter. She surveyed the result with an air
Of amused satisfaction; and when, stand
ing on a chair to reach, she had nailed
the box to limb of the old apple tree,
she thought 1t looked quite hOmelike.
branch of blossoms dropping across the
'front.' hid all defects. Robert would laugh
when he saw it.
The wrens were still fitting in and out
Of the pump with misdirected zeal; SO she
stuffed a cloth into the seductive spout
while the birds chartered madly, as weak
little creatures sometimes will when
higher intelligence is steering them away
from danger. And then the apple bios
SONS had been SO pink and white and
dewy that she had broken off a great
armful and crowded them into jar in a
corner of the dining room, just where
Robert could see them while he ate his
Inner.
All this had made the dishwashing late
AS she set the milk cans on the porch. a
shining In the sun. she stopped to
watch the wrens again. She was not un-
ike them-small and slight, with quick
ways and bright brown eyes. She gave
little nod of satisfaction when she saw
that the birds were investigating the pos
sibilities of the starch box. One Of them
perched on the top and trilled his brief
burst of melody with tremulous wings.
Alice regarded him with soft eyes. He
knew what hope was, and companionship,
and the making of home together. She
ooked at the pump. with a wisp Of cloth
trailing from its spout, as at a vanquished
destroyer Of domestic felicity and went
back to her dishes. When they were fin
shed she glanced at the clock: the mail
carrier must have passed by this time.
1t made one OF the events Of her day to
go down the long lane under the naples
anu uIlIOCh lue HAL UON On the post OF the
big red gate. She ran part of the way,
her pink dress fiuttering about her ankles:
but she came back slowly, her head bent
over a letter, the swiftly alternating sun
and shadow passing like ripples over her
bright hair.
AS she slipped the letter back into its
envelope. she stood still moment, look
ing out over the plowed fields. where the
warm brown earth lay mellowng in tn,
sun. Then she gave little decisive skip.
and. running along the soft. scant grass a.
the side of the lane. she entered her
kitchen flushed and breathless.
When the team, their heavy harness
creaking and the lines thrown over the
names, came plodding across the pasture
to the watering trough by the barn. Alice
stood i'm the door, dinner was ready. Rob-
ert, following some distance behind the
horses, waved his broad straw hat, and
then strobe on, swinging it by his side.
How tall and strong he was, She could
see the crisp curve of his black hair and
the Wilderness of his forehead above the
line of tan.
A.a set the dinner on the table. then ran