Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1913-09-26

place for him, give him honor. And
now, at the moment of his miracle
the precious knowledge of their truths
and that he was equal to this mans
work, he had fallen; again, the wander
er, the man without understanding
the poet without song.
He turned from it all with tear
filled eyes, climbing higher in the
bluffs The leaves were new-fallen,
showing the farwinding river, the
bronze shields of the corn coming up
to the black muddy roads leading to
the town, first past the modest homes
of the workers and hired folk, and
then to the heavy-faced houses of the
rich. After all, pleasant friendly
town, coming at last to know him; a
wholesome town blown always with
odorous airs, and filled with the voices
of young people. boys climbing the cat
tie trails, sweethearts wandering along
the pebbly watercourses of Sunday af-
ternoons; or old men and women COM
ing slowly along the walks under the
arching naples, speaking kindly, know
ing every one and the children of every
one.
From the last high ridge, where the
uplands began, he could see the great
vistaS The smoke over the mines and
factories in Earlville, the Mississippi,
a band of dull silver strung along the
hills of Illinois; and now, on his home
shore. far to the north, a single farm
wagon toiling up the red cash of road
to the yellow bluff, then rattling on, a
crawling speck at last, the wrapped
figure in the seat alone and desolate
under the sky, the ow-pressing globe
Of gray. He thought it might be his
friend, Memminger. going back to his
home people. He would tell them the
news. He wondered how they would
receive 1t; if they would not be sadden-
ed? They would open their weekly pa
per, the damp and soggy little sheet as
it came from his old press, and read his
announcement The talk would go
about-some nameless blight that had
struck down their champion, and only
the infinite silence would answer. He
thought of the farmers driving home
ward from the rally that would not
take place, rough garbei, silent, III
sort of awe of That Tanner, the little
gray boss who was on top again. They
would guess this much. But Curran,
who, somehow, had appealed to their
own secret sentiment; who had come
clearing an obscure message, the
fighting good, the newer ideal Of
mocracy-something mast the mon
ey lust of the republic-he, who had
dreamed that out of their gray and
honest lives he might weave the col
ors of his own infinite possibilities
what would they think of him?
Tomorrow was election, and by
night the great fight would be won.
They would all win, Delroy, the mill
tant governor, the junior senator; all
the men of the north in the brilliant
campaign. But he who had been of
them, of whom the home folk had
been proud as he voiced their con-
science against outworn theories of
wealth and privilege, he had fallen.
He thought of how they would dis
cuss him tomorrow about the polls,
his useless name on the ballots-a
man apart branded with nameless
stain, the eternal whisper following
him. Yes, he had found bottom after
the resurge of his life. He had risen
to fall. Love made the way and then
defeated him.
From the high point he saw yell
low scar and knew it was the quarry,
with beyond shanties of the Pocket
squatters. Up this hill she had romp-
ed and grown, his child, his little
girl. laughing the way of her vulgar
upbringing. all unknown and uncared
for. And he--he might have done
so much-he who all his thriftless life
had needed the touch of a hand in
his,
He tried to recall the first time he
had seen her-a dark-haired child in
red dress going past his shop with
the bareleggcd Lindstrom boys. Then
schoolgirl. slim. with sharp-eyed
little Gallo tricks and poses; and then
the maid he had come to know
Moody at times and lonely; passionate
N.fth Il.
And thence on to his miracle
laughing her way into his dreams
the biZarrie romance in his obscure
struggle. lifting him by her kinshil
of feeling, of adventure. of follics and
extravagances. Oh. the way the!
had come unknowing.-th two out
casts to their triumph.
Then he bowed his head with hum
bleness at this other miracle. With
all her droll playing with him. hel
grateful fOndneSS for him, he had beer
the pure in heart. The wonder of it
That always. his passion had been {
sheltering and protecting one-a
| fatherhood indeed, that defended hei
against the towns tongues, that eX
ulted in her success. And once agar
| he looked off to the east and hi:
mystic impulse came. He kissed hi:
fingers to the dull sky and whisper
ed: Because you're there, Aureli'
just because you're there.
At dark he went to the cabin. ant
before a tiny fire sat long. NOR
row was to be thought 0f-a sobel
| reckoning tomorrow. the long straigh
road. He would have to gO.he reason
ed: he was crushed, destroyed
here. And then a flame of dogget
courage swept him. No, he woult
not go! He had done no wrong
Fate had struck him down, but III
accepted. He would make his tgh
"A losing fight. pcrhaps-with the in
| finite cruelty of oStraCism and the
icerS Of misunderstanding: the mutt"l
of namclcss things that men whisper
only to their kind, always about him
But he would stay; he would stce
his soul to it. with some sort of new
s.t