Evening capital news. (Boise, Idaho) 1901-1927, 1912-11-17

dering about over the hills of his boy
hood home. He remembered the woods
grim and deep where many time hs
had gone coon hunting only to have
the believing dogs tree 'possums which
they would kill after the men had
chopped down some fores-king, an oak,
chestnut or great tulip. Acutely
and heart smotheringly he recalled also
the places In those wilds where the
broken escarpments of conglomerate,
pebbly cliffs were piled so as to make
caves, one of which was called the
Devils Den" He remembered too,
that when he first visited that weird
region h, heard pheasant drumming
on rotten log. and never having heard
such. he thought it was really the devil
working at his forge. He could again
feel the sensation of his rising hair
and his anxious desire to get back
home. Now, the forests with their
ginseng and May apples were all gone.
The woodman's AK had been there. In
some places they had been gone 50
long there was not even decayiny
stump left to testify. He roamei
across some briary fields that 40 years
ago had belonged to his father: here
he had hoed corn. cut briars, dug po-
tatoes, and in the long July days when
the sun "come down the nigh way
had Graded wheat. He knew the sites
by the slopes and the hollows, for with
the clearing of the timber the ancient
fences had been reset so as to form
new fields. He did not inquire who
owned them now nor did he care to
know lest he might have met the owner
and felt resentful toward him for ha|-
ing disturbed his aforetime holy 1T
holes. The house in which he was
born was replaced it had been
cabin of one room made from logs
taken from the frowning wilderness. lie
did not look at the one that took lis
place. He slowly picked his way over
the plowed area where once was a.
fence lined with persimmon trees, AMI
along whose short shadows ran the
path in the sacred longago when his
father led him by the hand to the coun-
try Sunday school, and in which he
s,ampered with the other children to,
the same school house on the knoll. He
visited this old school building only
TIC find il was transformed into a
church. He walked in dreadful. mem
ory-raising silence about where he and
the boys used to play 'marvels,' town.
bal, sock ball, London loo" and every
other known thing in the line of day
light sports; where also at the spellinss
and the singing schools the healthy
rustic boys and girls played hot sup
per " Shanghai, Jim Hawk, etc, etc,
and what not?
The white haired man became very
lonesome. He stood by the fence at
the front of the old building where
We're apparently the same old rails in !
the staggering worm fence; It was the
same fence over which the racers
would vault free of pole or other as
sistance as they ended their barefoot
race check by cneek. The ancient be
came young again and forgot he was n
grandfather. He looked about and
everywhere for the boys OF almost half
a century before. He even called out: |
20 boys! Where have you hidden? Wei
are not playing hide and seek today |
see, | have come back through all these !
years to visit you. Come. boys. let's
climb over the fence in the graveyard |
here and sit down under the trees and
talk just like we used to do. The race
has been long one, fellows, and | am |.
tired. Come, John, Billy, Sammy and
others!"
Suiting his action to the word, the
old man who for many years had been
far out west, climbed over the fence |
into the now enlarged cemetery where |
among the graves they had eaten the
little wild Strawberries and read the
moss-filled dates on the leaning old
headstones, all the while speaking in
whispers lest they might disturb the
sleepers. He began to look about him
and forgot to sit down. Sure enough.
some of the boys were there playing
hide-and-soek. He found them among
the evergreen and the flowers. There
by that juniper was the cold. marble
monolith carrying Johns short history. [
He and the old man had been rivals )
for headmarks in the unique spelling
classes. So well matched physically, /
they were the ones who scaled the six /
rail fence at flying-leap at the long