The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1909-12-04

sharp In the silence. Now and then
blue-jay, startled by a heavier blow
or falling limb, flew with a harsh
cry to a more distant tree. Richard
marked the blue and white flash,
standing for . moment with ak sus.
pended, then the blow fell again, al
ways to the same bitter accompani.
ment. The sight of the bird only
reused new phase of the old
thought. Last year shot blue.jay
and gave the wings to her. Edwards
can give her store things prettier than
that" The blows fell again, faster
and stronger.
Presently he dropped his ak. Walk
ing to a little distance, he kneeled
down and began, brushing the snow
lightly aside. Underneath the dark
vines of partridge-berry-the bright
berries shining red among the green
lines. Swiftly he passed his hands
across them. The finger-tips seemed
alive. They raised a slender vine and
held 1t moment, as If to pick it;
they laid 1t reluctantly again in it's
place. "No"-he was brushing back
the snow with quick fingers-"I can't
carry them to her, and mother
wouldn't want them"
He stood looking up through the
network Of branches into the clear
sky of the winters day. His eyes
dropped; they noted the straight, dark
trunks, the struggling underbrush,
through which the sun fell softly, the
Wilderness of the snow, broken only by
shadows. Long he looked, as If he
were bidding it all goodby; then he
turned away and, shouldering his ak,
walked swiftly down the snowy wood.
road
For month past the neighbors had
been discussing the engagement of
Emily and Edwards. They were to be
married in the spring. Every one
said 1t was good match for Emily.
They felt sorry for Richard. He was
fine fellow-but too dreamy and
fanciful. It was a good thing that
Emily was of with him. He had queer
notions. That poetry he wrote for the
Lyceum meeting-about "the red fin
gers of the woodbine at the throat of
the dying year"-it sounded pretty,
but 1t was queer-too much like his
Grandfather Crane. No, he would
never get on.
He followed the wood-road for about
half mile. Then he left even this
slight trail and struck into the un-
broken wood, making his way through
the underbrush and light snow with
free, swinging step.
He had evidently goal in view,
and he emerged at last into a small
clearing. A small, time-worn house
stood few rods away Beyond the
house long, sloping hill rose to the
horizon, and halfway up the hill an
isolated pine lifted it's branches
against the sky. A barn stood short
distance from the house, path con-
Meeting the two. II there was any
way Of approach except that by which
Richard had come, 1t did not appear.
He struck across the open space,
smiling as he looked up to the line Of
smoke rising from the chimney. He's
home, fast enough" he said to him.
self. He scarcely waited to hear the
response to his knock before he lifted
the latch and stood 20 vie low door,
way.
An old man was sitting by the
stove. He had paused in the act of
putting stick of wood in the fire,
and stood, with stove-lifter suspended,
looking expectantly towards the door.
Halo. Dick" he said, nodding as
he saw his visitor. Turning once more
to the stove, he raped vigorously on
the stick until it fell into place.
Richard seemed to expect no other
welcome. He crossed the room and
seated himself on rough, homemade
bench near the fire.
The old man looked at him keenly
from under shaggy gray brows as he
brushed the chips and dust from his
hands. pretty cold" he said at last.
Richard nodded. He knew from ex-
perience that the less he said himself