The Idaho Republican. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1904-1932, 1914-04-24

had stood, somewhat later that nate
full morning, holding a saddled horse
before the big pillared porch. 1t had
whispered itself then from every NOV
ing leaf. "Sassoon or Valiant?" II
she had loved Sassoon, of what use the
letter Valiant was so long penning in
the library? Buff it were Valiant
she loved? The man who, having
sworn not to lift his hand against the
other, had broken his sacred word to
her! Who had stained the unwritten
code by facing an opponent maddened
with liquor! Yet, what was there
woman might not condone in the one
man? Would she read, forgive and
send for him?
The major laughed out suddenly.
harshly, in the quiet room, and looked
down as If he expected to see that
letter still lying in his hand. But the
laugh could not still regular pulsing
sound that was in his ears-elfin like
the voices but as distinet-the sound
Of horses hoofs going from Damory
Court.
He had heard those hoof-beats echo
in his brain for thirty years!
Till the sun was high John Valiant
lay on his back in the fragrant grass,
meditatively watching a bucaneering
chicken-hawk draw widening circles
against the blue and listening to the
vibrant tattoo of "pecker-wood" on
a far-away tree, and the timorous wet
whistle Of bob-white. The whole
place was very quiet now. For just
one thrilling moment it had burgeoned
into sound and movement: when the
sweaty horses had stood snorting and
stamping in the yard with the hounds
scampering between their legs and the
riding-coats winking like rubies in the
early sunshine!
Had she recognized him as the
smudged tinkerer Of the stalled car?
"She saw me drop that wretched brute
through the window" he chuckled. Il
could take oath to that. But she didn't
give me away, true little sport that
she was. And she won't can't
think of any reason, but know. Was
she angry? wonder!"
At length he rose and went back
to the house. With bunch Of keys
he had found he went to the stables,
after some difficulty gained access,
and propped the crazy doors and win
dows open to the sun. The building
was airy and well-lighted and con-
tanned a dozen roomy box-stalls, q
spacious loft and carriage-house.
The straw bedding had been unre-
moved, mice-gnawed sacking and
rotted hay lay in the hangers, and the
warped harness, hanging on its pegs,
was a smelly mass of mildew and
decay. He found stick, moved away
the festooning cobwebs, and moved
the debris piece-meal.
"There!" he said with satisfaction.
There's place for the motor-if
Uncle Jefferson ever gets 1t here"
It was noon when he returned, after
wash-up in the lake, to the meal
with which Aunt Daphne, in costume
dimly suggestive of bran-meal poul-
tice with Bingham apron on, RECALLED
him. Fried chicken, corn-bread so
soft and fluffy that it had to be lifted
from the pan with spoon, Drowned
potatoes, and to his surprise, fresh
milk. "Ah done druv ouah Oh COW
ovah, suh," explained Aunt Daphne.
lease she gotter be MIXED, er she
run dry ez de Red Sea TO- de chillon
OBJ Izril."
Aunt Daphne" inquired Valiant
with his mouth full, what do you call
this green thing?"
dat? OATS jes turnip-tops, sub,
wild er hunk er bacon in de pot. Laws
er-ine. ct cer'n'y do me good ter see
yo' git after it dat way, sub. Reck'n
yo' got er appetite! Hyuh, Hyuh!"
IT have. l never guessed 1t before,
and it's magnificent discovery. How
ever, it suggests unwelcome refec-
lions. Aunt Daphne, how long do you
estimate a man can dine like this on
well, say on hundred dollars?"
"Er hun'ed dollahs, sub? OATS er
right smart heap O. money, deed ct Is!
Well sub, pens on whit yo' raises.
Eff yo raises yo' own gyarden-sass en-
chick'ns en- aigs, All reck'n yo' kin
live longah dan dat ar Methoosalum,
en- still hat mos Of it in de Oh stock
In"
"Ah! l can grow all those things
myself, you think?
"Yo' cert'n'y kim" said Aunt Daphne.
"Ev'ybody do. De chick'ns done peck
TO deyselves en- de yuddah things-yo
o'ny gotter courage EN- en- dey jes'
grows"
Valiant ate his dessert with
thoughtful smile wrinkling his brow.
AS he pushed back his chair he smote
his hands together and laughed aloud.
Back to the soil!" he said. John
Valiant, farmer! The miracle of 1t is
that it sounds good to me. want to
raise my own grub and till my own
soil. want to be my own man! And
I'm beginning to see my way. Crops
will have to wait for another season.
but there's water and pasture for cat
fla pou Thera's timher-lots of tt