The Detroit times. [volume] (Detroit, Mich.) 1903-1920, 1914-04-14
CHAPTER 1,
Oreamo.

\" O0AVb En- u
Dreams.
He drifted into the delectable land
that lies between sleep and waking,
tasting the neeting SAVIOR OF his
dre1ms-the epic visions OF full.blood'
ed youth. They had passed just be-
yond memory. leaving q confused yet
glowing sense of sharp cOmbats
waSed. Of victories won. A golden
haze enveloped him. Through 1t
Uttered . dwindling resonance, as o;
some noble professional sung by a
departing far-distant choir.
A wave Of delight rippled over him.
Then the thought that. not sharing
his slumher, had painted his eolorful
dres ms, worked to the surface.
NY last day here"
He awoke slowly. Before him, seen
} through the unshuttered window. lay
world somber enough to one tug
J g.ng against its restraints, lovely
when IL was to be left behind. He
saw the September sun peep over the
hills at the head Of the valley, rise
majCstically and swing clear, q gold
en- disk hung In the sky, symbol OF
the reward of mems struggles; Its
radiance, streaming into the little
room, dispelled shabbiness with q
mellow blow he could almost feel.
Purplish shadows rested on the east
ern slopes-the hue that is the badge
OF conquest. The breeze brought Its
offering, a rich earthly fragrance that
he inhaled eagerly. The matin
sounds arose. according finely with
the lingering echoes Of his dream
music. He reveled In q new percep-
tior.
He was 20 years old.
He was not one to loll. He sprang
from bed and stood naked: supple
beautiful youth, too slender for great
strength, but with the unconscious
grace of the wild animal. Something
animal.like, too. was the pleased look
that played over his face, as he
breathed In the fragrance of the
morning. II was an odd face, swarthy
from the summer sun. neither weak
nor strong but unset: the counter
ance of youth untried. Yet 1t was not
without Its promise. He would do or
be nothing negative, this youth; the
dsrk restless eyes, deep-set and wide
apart, proclaimed intensity, primitive,
passion.
He dressed and stood by the win.
dow In the attitude OF q listener. In
;ently he sought to define the faint
other-world resonance that still seem
ed to vibrate about him. But the
theme .eluded him.
Has Illusion was effectually shatter-
ed. Into, the subdued melody Of the
Sabbath morning thrust a profane iu-
truder.1 the jerky wheeling notes OF
u. cabinet organ in the days hymns.
played by some one who aspired be-
yond endowment.
He frowned. then threw back his
head and laughed silently--a trick
he had somettmes-at the absurd
aLticlimax.
I'm still In Bethel. It's long way
from here to-there." He drew q
long deep breath.
A question halted him. There
He shook his head vigorously, az
Though to throw OF the query, and
went down TO the kitchen.
inc odor Of frying ham saluted his
nostr1ls; he smiled It hungrily. A
man, apparently old, was placing
heavy. Clipped ironware dishes on
the table. He nodded briefly in re-
Spouse to the youths blithe greeting.
1"rn be ready" he said In a dull
nat voice. time ye're back from the
stable." and continued hts slow pre-
cise setting Of the table.
In q few minutes the other return.
ed. tho horses fed and his own hands
anA face scrubbed In cold water from
tina cistern. They sat down without
speaking. The youth ate eagerly.
gulpinsly.
When the arst keenness OF appetite
WINS gone. burning TO talk of the great
hour at hand, he broke the silence.
Wen, father. this is my last day in
Bethel" d.
The old man merely nodded, keep
Ing his eyes on his plate.
Boyishly the SON began to set forth
his plans and hopes and expectations;
they were not small. But the old man
!. maintained his silence. The youth
conceived him to be- an unsympa-
thetic audience.
"0uess you're not interested" he
SAID q trife sulkily.
~Yes, I'm intrusted, Mark" the
fathe: answered. "but there amt any
thing to say He raised his glance
to the window. Guess couldn't say
anything that'd help much"
The sweep OF youths anticipation
fnltered before q quality in the old
mans words. Old. "old Simon" so
liis nsighbors called him. Yet he was
net really old, but In the MONDAY of
life wore the gray mantle Of age. For
he, too, had dreamed his big golden
dreams. Below the village stood a
dtsmantied rotting forge, monument
TO their futility. Most men have In
tl1om only one big battle: Of them
vas Simon Truitt. After his failure
b had returned to his shop and
trade, shoeing his neighbors' horses.
monding their wagons and plows, a
du1leyed, taciturn, splritless plodder.
A hint Of the tragedy OF failure, bread
of tho majority. came to the young
man. A cloud had passed across the
! sun. They finished the meal In heavy
Gl1enco.
~ length Simon Truitt rose and
began to clear the table. The son
ujovod toward the door. There he
ponsod. vaguely sensible Of . sorrow
q vhiah some soothing word was TO
- aid. But the word would not come
. - M unsohoo1od In such tender