Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-10-12
Continued from page II

Continued from page II
it was his custom to be much alone, Mark
ham wanted company. He wished at least
that Hernia had babe him goodnight. 1t
was curious how quickly one fell into the
habit of gregariousness. He and Hernia
had Jared together but for one day, and yet
he already felt sort of material dependence
upon her presence 1t was the habit of in
Independence, of course; he recognized it,
the same habit that led men and women in
droves to the cities, to herd in the back
streets of the slunls when the clean wales OF
the open country awaited them, sweet with
the smells of shrub and clover, where one
could lie at ones length and look up as one
should at the stars, lulled by the song of the
stream or the whistle of the south wind in
the
His head nodded and his pipe dropped
from his teeth.
IL ground. As he did so a dry twig
cracked nearby, a dog growled, and pres
emily a small phantom emerged from the
shadows. 1t was Hernia, with finger laid
upon her lips in token of silence.
Couldn't you sleep?' he whispered.
"No. 1t was a pity to crowd them; so
when Stella got to sleep 1 came away"
He laid a log upon the fire, and made a
place for her beside him. at was very nice
of you" he whispered. "To tell the truth,
wanted you"
"Then I'm glad came shall sleep here
by the fire if you don't mind
you're not afraid of the damp"
Il never take cold"
She smiled at the PROSTATE Cleofonte,
whose stertorous breathing shattered the
silence. "He is SO much in earnest about
everything" she laughed.
aren't you tired?" he asked. you've
had hard day."
eyes, little; but don't feel like sleep
aNor l. but you'd better sleep: you've
been up since dawn
"What time is it," she inquired.
He looked at his watch. There is no
time in Vagabondia. The birds have been
asleep long while. But if you must know
it's half past nine.'
"On1y that?" in surprise. "We've turned
time backward, haven't WEI"
@Or life forward he paused, and then,
@You are still willing to go on?" he asked.
She smiled into the fire. II am" quietly.
am committed irrevocably.
"To me?"
ooh, no; to myself, my friend. You are
merely my recording angel
"A vagabond ANGEL"
Cor an angel vagabond. haven't disap-
pointed your"
He laughed softly, but made no reply.
Of a truth she had not! Il was just thinking
what pity it was that during all these years
your gifts have been so prodigally wasted.
You have, l think, the greatest gift of all.
"And what is that?"
"The talent for living"
3Have L? Then I've learned it today. 1
have lived today, John,' she whispered. II
have lived every hour of it. She watched the
yellow rope of smoke that rose from the
damp log. @The talent for iving!" she
unused. Il never thought of that"
eyes, it's talent, fine art; but you've
got to have your root in the soil, Hernia
unless you're an orchid"
that's it, l know. But I'm not an orchid
any longer"
Markham rose and knocked his pipe out
No." he smiled, @you're night blooming
cereus-and so am /. You must remember
that in this world the darkness was made
for sleep, dawn for waking. The birds know
that; so does Cleofonte. Therefore you too,
Child, shall sleep-and at once!"
He raised the tarpaulin, scraped the
ground free of twigs and stones, then laid it