The Washington herald., 1913-08-31
CHAPTER XIV.
Back TO the Old Town.

Bnck TO the Old Town.
Spring comes about Rome by simple
| tokens. In the black bottoms the will
lows gently free themselves from the
soiling snow, bend upward ever so
lightly, and presently are wands of
furry gray. In the clay gaps of the
hills one hears the tinkle of water
under the ice and over rock, answering
the first call of the robins. The rabbit
tracks along the fences drabble down
to mere muddy markings i'll the snow
and then are lost in the first faint
green. Also, in town, housewives hang
their rugs on the porcheS and beat
them, stopping to look up at the blue
and breathe, as if the winters housing
had taken a bit out of their souls which
now was coming back; and one sees
the children digging their toes into the
mud on their way to school, testing
eagerly its releast from the frost.
But chiefly, in Rome people know
spring has come when Rube Van Hart
disappears. When the former Lacquer
began to climb the hills in February
and look off south; and when his work
in Carmichaers stable grew slack and
his eyes vacant and his promises to
coach the high-school ball team more
vague; and when he came silently in
the News Office to read the pink uns"
of the Chicago papers, paid no atten-
ton to Jim Minis, the tramp printer
asking for a chew, or Wiley when he
asked who looked good for the second
cushion with the Cubs since Delahanty
was sold-paid no attention to any one
at all, but wandered down to the juno
ton and dreamiiy read the names of
the box cars jogging down the cut,
why then it was safe to set out garden
truck-spring had come.
Then the News announced that Ru-
fus Adrian Van Hart, one-time catch
er with the Cubs, had gone South to
help with the spring try-outs at San
Antonio and would also get himself in
condition. This pleased Rube and all
the town kids and hurt nobody. Poor
old Rube was merely slowed in a box
car getting away just because spring
had called and baseball was here and
he could not help it. Among the Van
Harts there was no accounting for
Rube.
And when Rube came back to town
the women knew it was near time to
take in house plants and let the chill
dren go for hazelnuts. and resume the
lapsed work of the Shakespeare Club.
With Rube watch for a nip of frost.
But now spring. and Uncle Michigan
spading up Mr.. Curran's garden, dis
putting with his housekeeper while he
knelt in the black damp earth over a
package of seeds magnanimously dis
tributed by the Hon. James S. Hall, NJ.
c. Their voices came to the editor at his
desk Jim Minis had gone to the blind
tiger in the haymow of CarmichaeIs
livery stable, and Aleck. the press boy.
had stolen off to Sin Creek to see if
it was yet good bullhead fishing.
If I'm ever going TO Congress"
murmured the editor. Il must fire this
spring fever and scold everybody into
working" He watched Janet Vance tie
her her team of colts to the county
yard hitching-rail, her trim, blue fig
ure against the young elm green. She
looked at her watch decisively. 1t was
early for a county officer to be down.
town. She came across the street with
her direct and springy step and to the
News door. The editor took his feet
off the desk and waved his hand lazily.
Janet, let's go fishing. Let's get
Old Mowry's wagon and take Aunt
Abby and Jim Mims-if he's sober
and Mich and Aleck and all go fish,
ing"
Wiley, that's what you've always
done the first spring weather. But
this year-now-"
Don't finish it. Now-Congress-"I
Il drove in behind yoIf back lot"
she went on calmly, "and l see that
the w. c. T. U. ladies are right. The
size of that pile of beer bottles in your
alleyl Just suppose you'd bought books |
all your life instead of beer%
Janet" Curran smiled at her, T
never had a place to put the books all
my life. But there's always been a |
place for the beer"
spair. "Now-now-" he went on
and waved hand at her, don't scold. |
I'm up-Pm doing! In for a career
COngress-anything! But the weather,
Janetl Can't a fellow sit once in a
while over his pipe-and watch you
through the smoke, perhaps - and
dream?"
She shook her head. 'T know" he
went on lugubrlously. THE problem
with the new woman is, will she ever
let man go fishing"
She smiled, but continued her di-
rectness: Tom Purcell, of Earlvile,
is going to take the active management
Of your campaign this summer. The
committee of the Progressive League
decided on him.
He shrugged. Up the cliff back of
bis shop the bluebirds were calling.
The committee of the nascent Progress
sive League-and Janet-had kept Mr..
Curran plugging rather steadily all
winter. He had addressed farmers in
,titutes and gone TO State conferences