The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1912-05-01
THE EVENING STORY
ais IdttIe Neighbor.

wonderful all that was ascetic-
those were in the scheme of Duane's
life. The latter, asceticism, had not
always been part of the whole. but
since his removal to the picturesque
little bungalow on the edge of the
forest his thoughts had dwet more
permanently in the clouds than on
the more mundane earth.
A passionate lover of the beauti-
full, Duane had surrounded himself
with everything that goes to make
life materially, as well as spiritually,
| beautiful. Gifted himself with the
graces and charms of physical being
he found himself, almost against his
will shrinking from that which was
less blessed, whether it be the ILL
kept side of a city street or the an
lovely face of a human being.
Duane was a great writer. The
loves that had come and gone had
| been inspiration to him and had left
no scar. A surfeit of the best music,
the greatest paintings, the most
beautiful of women had been his and
he longed now only for the. quiet, un-
| interrupted solitude of his bungalow.
He SO far cherished solitude for his
| concentration on his book children
that he had engaged servant who
was both deaf and dumb.
There was but one eyeSOre IN
Duanes surroundings = the little
| tumble-d down shanty on the lot next
his own. It was the only habitation
within the authors vision as he lay
full length on his veranda, basking
in the sun of an April day. That
the shanty was uninhabited was the
redeeming feature of the situation.
Duane had often shuddered at the
bare possibilities attached to its oc-
cupancy. A slovenly housewife,
half dozen more sIovenIy children.
constant echo of wrangling and cry
ing-these were the things pictured
in the authors vivid Imagination.
Duane sank back in his hammock
exhausted by the mere contemplation
of a neighbor to jar his contentment.
Gradually the fact stole over him
that the habitua1 silence was being
rudely broken. He sat up.
A tumbIe-down wagon had rumb1ed
up to the gate next door ana over
its creaking box was piled a collection
of hideous furniture.
Duane shuddered as If chilling
wind had passed over him. The
shanty was about to become home
"a domicfle for some fearful family
of children and animals. In imagina-
ton Duane heard cats and dogs and
perhaps a cock or two in the dawning
of day.
bristled as he jerked into a sitting
position to watch the unloading Of
scanty, meager supply of furniture.
And while he looked his sensitive eyes
caught sight, far up the road, of
and a dilapidated suit case in the 9TH
er. Duane puffed furiously at his big
calabash. pipe.
When She drew near enough for
him to look at her without his being
observed he saw slip of a woman in
a drab gown that seemed to have been
blown about her figure by caressing
wind.
his eyes and muttered to himself, |
from a battered felt hat to feet
trudging through the dust. When he
again opened his eyes she had disap- |
peared within the door. Later he
heard her voice mingling with that OF
the man who had carried in the furni- |
ture His music loving ears strove to |
shut out the unmelodious tone, but |
there was a compelling something that |
chung to the senses. Duane had the
peculiar feeling that invisible fingers
had swept over the harp strings OF his /
soul.
TRY as he might to escape it, domi- |
nant chord of the greater things in life /
vibrated through his being and he did |
not realize its potency.
He tried to concentrate his mind on
his new novel, but a jangle of con-
fused imaginings crowded his brain.
He attributed his m entail discontinue
to the woman in the drab gown; he
had always dreaded the advent or a
neighbour and now he was reaptng the
harvest of his forebodings. Duane
was distinctly irrit&+ed, but over his
grievance there stole the
memory of kind neighbor, who had
once sent him a cup of hot coffee and
some home made bread when he ar
rived to occupy the house next to her
own. He recalled distinctly his feeling
of gratitude for the timely and much
needed refreshment.
Duane lay for moment thinking,
when he drew himself half reluctantly
from the hammock. A few moments
later his deaf and dumb servant was
crossing the garden to the shanty next
door with a tray upon which pot OF
tea. a plate of sandwiches and clus-
ter of fresh roses were daintily ar
ranged. II
All women prefer tea, L suppose"
the author as he once more
sank into his hammock. He looked up
at Tanner, who had brought back a
note from the little neighbor.
'Thank you. very much, 1t read.
1T was longing for a cup Of tea and
NV fire is not lighted as yet ,
Duane returned then to thoughts OF
his book, feeling that he had perform
ed his part i!
Later in the afternoon his reveries
Of wonderful music and ethereal wo-
men were rudely broken His little,
drab-colored neighbor had burst into
song. Duane shivered. The tones,
spontaneous and joyous, were half
shrinking from discordant sound, Duane
fell to wondering how any one could |
sing in a shanty which had neither
beauty nor comfort to adorn it
4She must be happy he muttered,
and was not conscious that a half
sigh accompanied his thought.
Later in the week, when he saw :
ner working with a broken troweI in
The measer soil beside the porch and i
n dor 1.av- = II