The citizen. (Honesdale, Pa.) 1908-1914, 1913-03-07


hate the means he knew must have
been used. He could not exult. The
advancement had come too late. The
fiery eagerness of youth was gone.
He longed not for a sword, but for
peace-the peace Of the hills, of the
growing things, of the commonplace
from which once he had fed.
A sound, strange for that hour and
place, slowly pierced his abstraction.
He raised his head, startled, listening.
1t was the courthouse bell. Another
Joined in, and another, until all the
bells of the town were ringing. The
iron choral was for him!
He walked slowly on.
AS he rounded the foot of the knob.
he heard another sound rising to min
gle with the clamor of the BELLS
cheering voices. He had a strong de-
sire to turn back and flee to some hid
ing place in the hills. but he forced
himself to march forward.
At the northernmost edge of the
twn he perceived a rapidly limping
hgure 1t was Jeremy Applegate.
Heard you came out this way"
Jeremy gasped. IAN 1 wanted to be
first to tell you Nominated by accla-
nation at 3:45 this afternoon! l
hain't felt so good since Appomattox."
John, beholding the tears shining in
honest Jeremy's eyes, felt the moisture
rise to his own. His heart leaped
sharply; it was something to receive,
| even II one has not earned, sucn
| loyalty!
Down Main street came team
drawing double seated spring wagon.
| From the wagon descended a silent
TITO whose handclasp eloquently told
what awkward lips could not phrase.
"Druv into town to git the news of
the convention" Ri explained. "They
said ye'd gone out the pike, so we
! druv out to fetch ye in. They're wait
in for ye, considerable excited"
"They've found out" said Dan Girls
we'll dryly, "all at oncet that ye're a
great man."
GLOW 1 damned the Amurrican peo.
pie a mite too soon," confessed Sykes,
which caused Cranshawe and Criswell
to laugh.
"Git in," commanded Ri. "Come
right along, Jeremy"
They all climbed into the wagon.
John with lips compressed as if he
faced an ordeal. And indeed he did.
Ri was quick to perceive what Jeremy
in the hysteria of his joy had over
looked. His great, hairy hand fell on
Johns knee in a tight grip.
81 want to say something while l got
the chancet. l guess there's more to
this than appears to be. But 1 have
faith in We, John Dunmeade. 1 have
faith that yell govern this state in
the fear of God and the love of your
fellow men,"
"Whatever We do" supplemented
Sykes, "I'll believe that"
"An' so long as we got faith in We
We needn't lose faith in YOURSELF" Girls
well concluded.
John did not answer. He was past
speaking just then and later when his
townsfolk acclaimed him.
At home took place a wonder. Judge
Dunmeade, almost forgetting the judi
cial dignity, slapped John on the back
and exclaimed: my son, this is hap
py hour l always knew you would
make your mark"
At which Miss Roberta shifted. But
when she tried to convey her felicita-
tions her tongue refused the unaccus-
toned office, and she broke away to
prepare a supper that should do justice
to the occasion.
That evening Benton county made
holiday, with torches and bonfires and
fireworks. John made a speech at his
home-not much of a speech, it is true,
but his audience was not hypercritical
1t lasted just three minutes. Then the
band began to play America" For q
little deep hush fell. Then some one
later identified as a one legged, hys-
terically happy old soldier-began to
sing in a cracked, quaverlng voice,
Something that passed beyond mere
jubilation stirred. With one accord the
crowd lifted up its voice and sang
"My country, tits of thee
The solemn, stately measures died
away. A young woman under tree al
the edge of the crowd discovered un
ashamed tears coursing down heI
cheeks. A last cheer was given, and
the famous celebration passed into
history.
At his window John Dunmeade look
ed with troubled eyes up into the 81
lent, starry night. 1t was ungenerouS
perhaps, but he could not help thinking
of the lean years of defeat and discour
agement And he wondered. Was the
hymn still ringing in his ears the voice
of an abiding passion-Or hysteria?
Continued in Next Fridays Issue.