The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1911-08-03
The Roads OfDestiny
(cOpyrieh, bJ ?. L NslsOn)
BY o. III ENRY


will know II you shall write more. or
give your attention to your wife and
business"
Write the letter. said David: ~
am sorry you did not speak Of this
sooner"
At sunrise the next morning be was
on the road TO Dreux with the pre-
cious roll Of poems under his arm. AT
noon he wiped the dust from his feet
at the door OF Monsieur Bril- That
learned man broke the seal OF NJ.
Papineau's letter. and sucked up its
contents through his cleaning specta.
cles as the sun draws water. He
took David inside to his study and sat
him down upon a little island beat
upon by a sea OF books.
Monsieur Bril- had a conscience. He
fiinched not even at a mass of manu-
script the thickness OF a finger length
and rolled to an incorrigible curve.
He broke the back OF the roll against
his knee. and began to read He
sighted nothing: he bored into tho
lump as a worm into a nut. seeking for
kernel.
Meanwhile, David sat marooned.
trembling in the spray OF so much 1T
erature. II roared in his ears. He
held no chart or compass for voyaging
in that sea. Half the world. he
/ thought, must be writing books.
Monsieur Bril- bored to the last page
Of the poems. Then he took OF his
spectacles and wiped them with his
handkerchief.
My friend. Papineau. is well?" he
asked.
In the best OF health" said David
How many sheep have you. Mon.
sieur Mignot?"
Three hundred and nine, when
counted them yesterday. The flock has
had III fortune. To that number It has
decreased from $50"
You have wife and a home. and
lived In comfort The sheep brought
you plenty. You went into the fields
with them and lived In the keen air
and ate the sweet bread of content.
ment. You had but to be vigilant
and recline there upon natures breast.
listening 10 the whistle OF the
blackbirds in the grove. Am ! right
thus far?"
1T was so" said David.
Il have read all your verses" con
tinued Monsigneur Bril-. his eyes wan.
dering about his sea OF books as II
he conned the horizon for a sail
Look yonGer. Monsignor Mignot; tell
me what you see in that tree"
II see a crow" said David. look.
! ing
There is a bird" said MonsigneuI
Bril-, that shall assist where | am
disposed to shirk a duty. You know
that bird. Monsieur Mignot. he is the
| philosopher of the air He is happy
through submission to his lot. None
so merry or full-crawed as he with his
whimsical eye and rolllcking step.
| The fields yield him what he desires.
He never grieves that his plumage is
not gay like the orioles. And you
have heard. Monsieur Mignot the
notes that nature has given him? Is
the nightingale any happier. 90 you
| Think"
David rose to his feet. The crow
cawed harshly from his tree.
Il thank you. Monsieur Bril-" he
said, slowly. There Eras not then, one
nightingale note among all those
| croaks?"
II could not have missed H." said
Monsieur Bril-. with a sigh, Il read
every word. Live your poetry. man
do not try to write It any more"
- thank YOU" said David, again
And now | will be going back to my
sheep"
IF you would dine with me-" said
the man of books, "and overlook the
smart of 1t. | will give you reasons a
length"
NO" said the poet. Il must be bacl
in the fields cawing at my sheep"
Back along the road TO Veroy h'
trudged. with his poems under ali
arm.
When he reached his cottage Yvonn'
was not there. or late she had taken L
gadding much among the neighbors
but fire was glowing in the htcher
stove. Davir opened the door OF I
and thrust his poems in upon th'
Goals. AS they blazed up they made |
singing. harsh sound in the fiue.
The song of the crowl" laid th'
poet