Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1910-05-21
OTTU1lMA. OOUnIR

lover enshadowed pages, she suddenly
rose from her work and walked i'm.
patiently toward the window. She
flung back the lattice, ostensibly
seeking more light, but with the
simple change OF cramped position
she Immediately realized that she
was unusually tired, fatigued in body
and brain. Mindless Of the soft
drizzle, she knelt upon the floor, her
head upon her hands, gazing out
ward toward the distant haze Of
woodland beyond the rain-soaked
fields.
She was tired-she fully realized
that. She also knew that she was
unspeakably foolish to kneel there
upon the floor while the cold pene-
trated to the very marrow Of her
bones. Spring rain was lovely
enough and undoubtedly poetical,
an old-time dormer window.
The woman knew that she was
imprudent, yet she laughed at the
outer chill, for, with the relaxation
from mental labor, the cold empti-
ness within her heart overwhelmed
her with a fearsome blight, compared
with which the outer dreariness was
as naught.
1t was all very well to write Ito
go off when town pleasures began to
| interfere with concentration on art,
to bury herself at this old farm, away
| from the annoyances of flattering ac-
quaintances, In order to gain full con-
troll of latent facu.ties-all very well
theoretically, but, for all practical
purposes, Il was dreary and unutter-
ably lonely at times.
In spite of repeated commands, old
| friends would persist in writing and
! renewing old scenes, stirring up men,
cries that would otherwise have died,
long since. 1t was lonely when she
| compared her fame, her several
novels ant. the tiny book of verse, the
drama yet to he and the stories of
her dreams, with the love, the warmth
and comfort which she had sacrificed
| for them.
Was it worth the price?
Then in spite of an afternoon
spent in fierce determination to for
get, the words of disturbing little
note received a few days before,
| fared, as in letters of fire, across her
wearied brain.
Dear, 1 have found where you have
hidden away. would not hurt you
by my presence, but write il you
want me. will come" 1t said.
The, woman knew that this mans
words rang true; that az he spoke,
| SO would he act She valued real
worth and she realized that in spite of
the fowery Establishments of her
many followers. this man with his
frank simplicity his marvellous ten
Iderness, was spiritually as well as
physically head and shoulders above
them all. She cherished and won
dered at his friendship, but his love
she had always feared. 1t was so
strong. She trembled. lest i, aban-
doning herself to her ever growing
desire, she lose her art-and losing
her art, her self, the keynote to her
own development. She dropped her
head upon her arms, abandoning her
self to the old questioning, the old
despair. And without the rain poured
down, renewing it's strength, no long
err the mist intangible, but the beat
ing Of all elements.
For long she knelt, then raised her
head as over the green fields re-
sounded again the coo-coo of the
homing call.
Joseph, the farmers son, had a
wondrous voice, full toned, power
fully sweet. She remembered how,
at the Sunday worship few days be-
fore, his fiawless rendering of the
simple hymns had filled her heart
with peace, and how at her question
| ing the proud mother had confided
| that Joseph's voice had charmed VoD
Stahl, the great musician from the
city He had tested Joseph during
his summers visit and promised
great things If he would but so with
him back to the city.
| "But he will never co. the mother
had said, and shrugged her shoulders
as with annoyance as she pottered
on about her work
| What reason could he have for re-
turing the great Won stahl's SO gen.
serous offer? Was it entirely stupid
lily, or was there some deeper cause
for his Indifference to this opportu-
nifty for betterment?
! Below in the orchard now, the, boy
was letting down the bars. The
woman watched, through a break in
the trees, as the cattle wandered con-
tentedly c-ward, steaming, dripping,
chewing etcrnally as they strolled.
She smiled at the awkwardness of
the tiny, dripping calf things, and
the mothers nozing them as they
went.
"Coo-coo' came a harsher voice
from the direction of the barn, and
the boy put back the bars and whis-
tied as he worked. Then he reached
upward with his great strong arms,
and with the care and insight Of an
artist selected slender spray Of soft
pink blooms. He shook away the
great hanging drops, and few petals
drifted behind him as he came, his
huge boots slushing through the rain
bowed grasses, his heavy shoulders
swaying as he walked. He was but
a peasant youth, but-the woman
marveled! what light was in his
eyes as he held the dripping blossoms
to his face!
The rain was softer now. The mist
above the trees was vanishing Be-
meath the caves tiny hedrag1ed