The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924, 1911-07-01
The Roads of Destiny
By O. HENRY
(c0pyriEh. b. E. = Nelson)

Three leagues then the road ran.
and turned into a puzzle It Joined
with another and longer road at
right angles David stood uncertain
for awhile and then sat himself to
rest upon its side
Whittier those roads led he knew
not. Either way there seemed to lie
a great world full OF chance and peril
And then. lying there, his eye fell
upon a brlgh& star, ons that he and
YVonne had named for theirs That
set him thinking Of YEonne, and he
wondered if he had not been too
hasty. Why should he leave her and
his home because q few hot words
had come between them? Was love
so brittle a thing that jealousy. the
very proof of it, could break it?
Mornings always brought q cure for
the little heartaches OF evening There
was yet time for him to return home
without any one in the sweetly sleep
ing village OF Vernoy being the wiser
His heart was YyOnne's: there where
he had lived always he could write his
poems and find his happiness.
David rose. and shook on his unrest
and the wild mood that had tempted
him He set his face steadfastly back
along the rOad~he had come By the
time he had reTaveled the road to Yer
noy. his desire TO rove was gone. He
passed the sheepfold, and the sheep
scurried, with drumming flutter. at
his late footsteps, warming his heart
by the homely sound He crept with
out noise into his little room and lay
there, thankful that his feet had
escaped the distress OF new roads that
night
How well he knew woman's heart!
The next evening YvOnne was at the
we'll in the road where the young
cOngregated in order that the cure
might have business The corner OF
her eye was engaged in a search for
David, albeit her set mouth seemed
unrelenting- He saw the look; braYed
the mouth. drew from IL q recantation,
and later, a kiss as they walked home
ward together
Three months afterward they were
married. David's father was shrewd
and prosperous He gave them wed
oIng that was heard of three leagues
away Both the young people were IA
vorites in the village There was pro-
cession in the streets, a dance on the
green; they had the marionettes and
tumbIer out from Dreux 10 delight the
guests
Then a year, and David's father died
The sheep and the cottage descended to
him. he already had the seemliest wife
in the village. YYOnne's milk pals and
her brass kettles were bright-oufI
they blinded you in the sun when you
passed that way. But you must keep
I,
er beds were so neat and gay they re
stored to you your sight And you
might hear her sing. aye, as far as the
double chestnut tree above Pere Cru
neau's blacksmith forge.
But a day came when David drew
out paper from a long-shut drawer,
and began TO bite the end of a pencil
Spring had come again and touched
his heart Poet he must have been,
for now Yvonne was well-nigh' forgot
ten This fine new loveliness of earth
held him with its witchery and grace
The perfume from her woods and
meadows stirred him strangely Daily
had b gone forth with his flock, and
brought it safe at night But now he
stretched himself under the hedge and
pieced words together on his bits OF
paper. The sheep strayed. and the
wolves perceiving that difficult poems
made easy mutton. ventured from the
woods and stole his lambs
David's stock OF poems grew larger
and his flock smaller. Yvonne's nose
and temper waxed sharp and her talk
blunt Her pans and kettles grew dull.
but her eyes had caught their fash
She pointed out 10 the poet that his
neglect was reducing the flock and
bringing woe upon the household. Da-
vid hired a boy TO guard the sheep,
locked himself in the little room in
the top OF the cottage. and wrote
more poems. The boy, being a poet
by nature, but not furnished with an
outlet in the way Of writing. spent his
time in slumber The wolves lost no
time in discovering that poetry and
sleep are practically the same; so the
flock steadily grew smaller. Yvonne's
i'll temper increased at an equal rate
Sometimes she would stand in the
yard and rail at David through his
high window. Then you could hear
her as far as the double chestnut tree
above Pere Gruneau's blacksmith
forge.
NJ Papineau, the kind, wise, med
ding old notary, saw this, as he saw
everything at which his nose point
ed He went to David, fortified him
self with a great pinch of SNUFF. and
said:
Friend Mignot, 1 affixed the seal
upon the marriage certificate of your
father 1t would distress me to be
obliged to attest a paper signifying
~ d. l.
what you are coming to. speak as
an old friend Now listen to what