Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1914-05-14

At suntset Curran was far in the
hills. There was a tiny hunting shack
in the thick Of an oak scrub ridge
where he had often spent the night in
other seasons, with Harlan or Arne,
seeking the squirrels and wild pigeons,
and now, unconsciously, his steps led
thither. Without thought, without
purpose-only he must be alone with
his crisis of defeat; he must keep rea-
son, he must grope for the tatters life
had left him.
All the afternoon he had wandered,
keeping from the roads, and meeting
no one. he had beheld the silent Mid
land country, the clou patches chas-
ing n another over the close cropped
meadows from ridge to ridge, the vail
leys bleak In the November hush. Altar
he heard the farmers swapping the corn
from the frozen husks throwing it with
a rough cadence against the bump
boards of the wagons; and now and
then he saw the yellow piles among
the shocked fodder and the pumpkin
vines. Again he saw a threshing
crew., the red machine roaring,
the flow of chaff, the CLINT of the
fork tines as the pitchers threw
the the bundles to the hand cut
tiers: the farm boys w%allowing in the
bright straw, the girls coming out to bid
the hands to dinner which the neigh
Dor women had gathered to repar
All this fine hearty life seemed strange
ly unreal, u curiously his mind alb
sorbed itself in it. He pictured the
long table in the farmhouse. the host
welcoming the threshers, the discus
sion of the yield and price with the
Weighers and sack sewers, as the own
er let the brown wheat run through his
fingers. All this he had been giving up
with his new larger life; this prosy
country friendliness hich only this
year he had discovered and loved, and
which had made place for him. given
him honor. And now. at the n of
his miracle. the precious knowledge Of
their trust. and that he was equal to
this mans work. he had fallen; again,
wanderer, the man without under
standing, the poet without song.
He turned from it all with filled
eyes, climbing higher in the bluffs. The
leaves were new-fallen. showing the
far-winding river, the bronze shields of
the corn coming up to the black muddy
the modest homes Of the workers and
hired folk, and then to the heavy-faced
houses Of the rich. After all, a pleas
ant 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 cattle trails. sweethearts
WI NhS PSoOly wafer
courses of Sunday afternoons: or old
men and women coming slowly along
the walks under the arching naples
speaking kindly. knowing 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, tolling up the red cash Of n
road to the yellow bluff. Their rafting
on. a crawling speck at last, the
wrapped figure in h seat alone and
.desolate nde the sky. the low-press-
ingg globe OF gray. He thought it might
be his friend. Hemminger. going back
to his home people. He would tell them
the news. He wondered how they would
receive 1T; ii they would not be sad
de7ed! They would open their weekly
paper. the damp and soggy little sheet
az IT came from Its old press. and read
MS 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 h rally thai would not
take place. rough CARRIED, silent. in n
sort OF v of Thad Tanner. the little
DoSo WIZ was On top again.. They
would guess aG this much. But Cur
ran who, somehow. had appealed to
their own secret sentiment: who had
come clearing nm obscure message the
fighting good, the newer ideal Of de-
mocracy-something past the money
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?
was the election. and by
They would all win, Delroy, the mill
tant governor. the Junior a all
the MEN OF the north in the brilliant
campaign. But he who had been Of
them. Of whom the home Aak had been