Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-11-13

the prIm little village GOWN the NdiieS aS
a shining land CT leisure and o. possible
social triumph.
1t was a lonely place for the women
that Stephen generously admitted A long
ridge. some so feet high, cut them off
frorr the railway. and all the young peo-
pie were leaving by twos and threes, AS
fast as they grew up. and the roads were
very bad and visitors few.
So at last he sighed and said. "All right,
mother, well go, but I'll declare l hate
to give up the fdrm-I don't know what IN
time I'll do with myself.''
stephen. now that ne was about to lose
his treasures, recalled Mcrtha's delight as
she watched the workmen set the old
oaken slab in it's place. He re-lived the
party she gave when the first fire was
laid, and thrilled to remember how pretty
she looked as she touched a match 10
the shavings and recited little verse
from The Hanging of the Crane" She
was cheerful and. Stephen believed,
happy; but when she we:;t away he be-
gen to realize that she had never really
taken root in the west, and now that he
was growing old. he himself began to
dwell more and more in the land of his
youth: his thoughts returned often to his
rocky New Hampshire intcrvale.
Yes, it was hardest OF all to loose the
tendrils of his heart from the hearth. for
though Serbia had rearranged and re-
decorated after her own heart, Martha's
fireplace remained unchanged.
I'll let you have your own way in most
things, Serilly, but / want this room to
look as it does now, just as she left it,
AS the time for the migration drew
near, Stephen stole sway from the dis
ordered kitchen to muse sadly before the
fire. He had consented to a ''vendue.'
and was willing SeriliS should sell all the
furniture they had, except few pieces
that had been Marthc's, and as there
wss no demand for tho irons and brasses
around the fireplace. he expected to box
them up as keeosakec
The cottage in town seemed to grow
smaller after they moved into It; but
Serbia and Cari5s were delighted with its
snugness, and went about extolling its
advantages with fluent tongues. IT'S
small, of course; br-- what do we want
with a big house? It's just that much
less work to take care of. Besides, here
we have a pump right in the kitchen.
and a furnace. and a bathroom, and
everything is as neat as a pin-no CRACKS
or dark corners"
daily groove You want to just lay back
and rest" said Hiram Fox. another vet
eran of the pillow: that's what all the
rest of us are doin'. and we're doin' It
conscientiously. The town is full Of
tired farmers II re u.s."
Sometimes at night, when his wife
thought him doing. he was really back
in the old Coolly house watching the blaz-
ing logs his mind filed with a delicious
sadness, his eyes we. with tears. What
was IL that had gone out of his life?
Here he sat in a perfectly comfortable
room. possessing a horse and a carriage.
with an abundance to eat and no cares
and yet the past, with all his toll. so
called to him that his throat ached at the
thought of IT. Oh. IL he could only re-
live 1t all.
In those dear days the wind was fierce,
the woods OF winter desolate; but Mar
tha's face shone like star, and the old
hearth rendered each night with his chill
dren a poem. Work was hard in those
days: but rest was sweet. Hunger was
keen; but eating brought no illness in its
train.
He was loyal to Serbia, the mother Of
his children: but Martha was the wife OF
his youth. the one chosen wholly of his
heart-and her fireplace came to typify all
that was sweetest and most poetic in his
life and In the lives OF his children. It
was an altar. Around it they had gath
cred when the corn was cribbed and the
cattle housed for the night In its light
they had danced when the thrashing was
over and at Thanksgiving time.
He awoke with a start.
what will We do on THANKSGIVING day
nd AT list ha
1--WE can't all get into this little box of a
place. There amt a room in the house
We can all sit down in. and II we could,
we'd have nothing but hole in the foo,
to look at. / declare il clean disheartens
me-"
Serbia was a little dashed, but replied,
comfortably. Wen manage somehow, I
guess. We can't have but a part OF the
children at a time, that's all. We can bid
your folks for Thanksgiving and my folks
for Christmas"
This ranked in stephens mind, and
thereafter he despised his toy house. 1t
was good enough tenement-a place 10
rent for while. but as a home in which
TO grow old IL was revolving in spite OF
It's shining paint and spick and span new
furniture.
In reality II held out no charm. no
poetry. no associations: il was as rectan-
gUlar as a dry goods box, and as hope
lessly prosaic a golden oak" wash
stand. A child born In such a house -
cheated of its birthright of dim, wide
rooms lit up ~ the dancing freight;
robbed of the sagas the great trees chant
as they roar outside in the wild wind
deprived OF all shadow. all suggestion
Something of this fitted through Stephens
thought. though he could not give ii voice.
Mother" he said one day. II wish
we had one room big enough to turn
round in. and a rag carpet and some old
fashioned chairs and fireplace
There you go again about that fire.
place." exclaimed his wife. irritably. No
body has fireplaces now. and how are you
going to have a big room in this house?''
'I'll build one. IL you say So
Nonsense. This house is all right,
plenty big enough for us-with Cariss
E.Alx to 20 OF any minute. And - for