The Idaho Republican. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1904-1932, 1914-04-10

fourth-dimensional landscape that be-
longed to his subconscious SELF or
that, glimpsed in some immaterial
dream-picture. had left a faint-etched
memory. Then, on a sudden, the vista
vibrated and widened, the white col"
umns expanded and shot up into the
clouds, and from every bush seemed
to peer a friendly black savage with
woolly white hair!
Wishing Housed" he whispered.
The hidden country which his father 8
thoughts, sadly recurring, had painted
to the little child that once he was,
in the guise of an endless wonder
tale! His eyes misted over, and 1t
seemed to him that moment that his
father was very near.
Leaving the negro to unload his be-
longings, he traversed an overgroWn
path of messed gravel, between box
rows frowsled like the names of lions
gone mad and smothered in an ac-
emulation of matted roots and debris
Of rotting foliage, and presently, the
bulldog at his heels, found himself
in the rear of the house.
"Mine!" he said aloud with rueful
pride. and for general rundown
ness, it's up to the advertisement"
He looked musingly at the piteous
wreck and ruin, his gaze sweeping
down across the barred fields and I'M
kempt forest. "Mine!" he repeated.
"All that, l suppose, for it has the
same earmarks of neglect. Between
those cultivated stretches it looks like
a wedge of Sahara gone astray." His
gaze returned to the house. "Yet what
place it must have been in its time!"
He went slowly back to where his con-
ductor sat on the lichened horse
block.
Yves heah,' called Uncle Jefferson
cheerfully "Whut we gwinter do
mex, sub? Reck'n All better go ovah
ter Miss Dandridge's place fer er
crowbah. Lawd!" he added "ef he
ain got de key! Whut yo' think OBJ
dat noW?"
John Valiant was looking closely at
the big key; for there were words,
which he had not noted before en-
graved in the massive flange. Friends
all hours He smiled. The sentiment
sent a warm current of pleasure to
his finger-tips. Here was the very
text of hospitality!
A Lilliputian spider-web was
stretched over the preempted keyhole,
and he fetched grass-stem and poked
out it's tiny gray-striped denizen be,
fore he inserted the key in the rusted
lock. He turned it with curious
sense of timidity. All the strength of
his fingers was necessary before the
massive door swung open and the lev
cling sun sent it's late red rays into
the gloomy interior.
He stood in a spacious hall, his nos
trils filled with curious but not I'M
pleasant aromatic odor with which the
place was strongly impregnated. The
hall ran the full length of the build
ing, and in it's center a wide, balus
traded double staircase led to upper
darkness. The floor, where his foot
prints had disturbed the even gray
film of dust, was of fine close par
quetry and had been generously
strewn everywhere with mica-like
powder. He stopped and took up a
pinch in his fingers, noting that it
gave forth the curious spicy scent,
Dim paintings in furnished frames
hung on the walls. From niche on
the break of the stairway looked down
the face of tall Dutch clock, and on
one side protruded a huge bullying
something draped with yellowed
linen sheet. From its shape he
guessed this to be an elk's head. Dust
undisturbed, lay thickly on everything
ghostly floating cobwebs crawled
across his face, and bat fitted out
of fireplace and vanished squeak
ing over his head. With Uncle JEFF
ferson's help he opened the rear doors
and windows, knocked up the rusted
belts of the shutters and flung them
wide.
But for the dust and cobwebs and
the strange odor, mingled with the
faint musty smell that pervades a sun