The Madison journal. (Tallulah, Madison Parish, La.) 1888-current, 1914-08-08

arts, came home to exhibit in all its
perfection the product of education.
He was returning late from an aft
ernoon's hunt In the woods behind
the Martin farm, when he unexpected
ly came upon her one autumn day.
She was standing on little knob, gaz-
ing absently into the fading sky. His
ever-ready Imagination was touched.
In the dusk. the pale glow of the dying
day upon her. her pensiveness and ap-
parent frailty gave her a seeming OF
soulfulness that abashed him. moved
him strangely. He thought he beheld
one far finer and purer than any Of
the clayey creatures his life had
touched. She saw him and smiled
family. That smile put him in an
agony of confusion and awkwardness
Because he did not know how to de-
part. he found himself walking home
with her. and when she praised the
pheasants slung over his shoulder, on
sudden glad impulse he gave to
her and she quite naturally accepted
prophecy, but he was no seer
1t was long before he lost that i'm
preston of her, the frail spirit-like
girl Of the dusk, even though ripper
acquaintance might have taught him
that she was indeed a dweller upon
the earth. He whispered her name to
himself, thinking it finest poetry. His
desire to do something" became a
burning Impotence to do large and
splendid deeds that would prove his
mettle. He was, in a word, boy who
thought himself in love.
Came a night, still winters night
when moonlight cleaned on the snow
and the chimes of sleighbells added
to the enchantment, when he kissed
her, with a sense of sacrilege-and she
did not resist.
No wonder. then, Richard Courtney
preached purpose in vain! His pupils
horizon was filled with a purpose not
his own. Even the preachers incom-
prehensible outburst was forgotten. as
the boy went to his tryst that Sabbath
afternoon.
For a mile he drove carefully and
then, letting out the mare, with
flourish of speed drew up before the
house of Squire Martin. 1t was the
most pretentious in the valley.
Soon Unity appeared, fresh and
dainty in her white dress and pink
hat, followed by her sister Susan
bearing heavy pasteboard box While
Mark awkwardly helped his lady into
the buggy, Susan slipped the box I'M
der the seat. Mark got in and the
brown mare, needing no command,
started away.
81 put up some LUNCH" Susan called
after them. Don't forget to eat it,"
And So" breathed Unity. you're
really going away-at last! How did
you happen to decide to go just now?"
Il don't know. 1t just came to me
the other day that couldn't stay here
any longer. Somehow, ever since we
began to talk of the city, this place
has seemed so small and shut in-until
this morning."
Until this morning?" in some
alarm.
Then it seemed kind O. coy and
and protected. l hate to leave it /
hate to leave you, Unity"
And I'll hate to have you go. But,
of course, you must. And then. be-
fore very long, you'll come back-and
take me away with YOU"
For a while in silence they gave
this prospect the consideration 1t de-
served. Then:
"Oh. Unity. how can you love me
so?"
She was able to answer him on this
point in a way to satisfy him and yet
leave him humbly grateful for his
vast good fortune.
The shadows were quite long when
they espied a great fiat rock in a
clearing little way from the road.
And there. in a delicious intimacy that
they solemnly asserted was but a fore
taste, they remembered to eat the
lunch put up by the thoughtful Susan.
Afterward they spent a rapturous
hour watching the sun glide down to
meet the hills.
She broke a long silence to say.
dreamily, You're going to be very
rich. aren't your"
He laughed. Maybe. 1t isn't al
ways SO easy to get rich, you know"
But everybody says you will"
"Everybody-in Bethel-may not
know" Then he added firmly, But !
will-for you. And then"
He got down from the rock and
lifted his arms to her. She stood un.