The Idaho Republican. [volume] (Blackfoot, Idaho) 1904-1932, 1914-07-17

Wnere a mans nand and brain were no
less needed, and there was work there
that would help him to bear, if not for.
get.
He paced up and down the porch un.
der the great gray columns, his steps
spiritless and tagging. The Virginia
creeper, trailing over its end, waved
to and fro with a sound like a sigh.
How long would it be before the lawn
was once more unkempt and draggled
Before burdock and thistle, mullen
and Spanish-needle would return to
smother the clover? Before Damory
court, on which he had spent such
loving labor, would lie again as it lay
that afternoon when he had ratified
thither on Uncle Jefferson's crazy
hack? Before there would be for him.
in some far-away corner of the world
only Wishing House and the Never.
Never Land?
In the hall he stood moment be.
fore the fireplace, his eyes on its
carven motto, Il clinge:" the phrase
was like spear-thrust He began to
wander restlessly through the house
up and down, like a prowling animal.
The dining-room looked austere and
chill-only the little lady in hoops and
love-curls who had been his great.
grandmother smiled wistfully down
from her gilt frame above the console
and in the library melancholy
deeper than that of yesterdays trag-
edy seemed to hang, through which
Devil-John, drawing closer the leash
of his leaping hound, glared sardon.
ically at him from his one cold eye
The shutters of the parlor we're
closed, but he threw them open and
let the rich light pierce the yellow
gloom, glinting from the figures in
the cabinet and weaving a thousand
tiny rainbows in the prisms of the
great chandelier. n
He went upstairs, into the bedrooms
one by one, now and then passing his
hand over a polished chair-back or
an ornament or a frame on
the wall: into The Hilarium with its
records of childish study and play.
The dolls stood now on dress-parade
in glass cases, and prints in bright
colors, dear to little people, were on
the walls. He opened the shutters
here, too, and stood some time on the
threshold before he turned and went
heavily downstairs.
Through the rear door he could see
the kitchens, and Aunt Daphne sitting
under the trumpet-vine piecing nine
patch calico quilt with little squares
of orange and red and green cloth.
Two diminutive darkies we're sprawled
on the ground looking up at her with
serious eyes, while wary BAN
tam pecRea Findustriously about their
bare legs.
EN- den whut de roostah say,
Aunt Daph?"
"OP roostah he hollah to all he
wifes, Oo-ooo! Oo-ooo! Young
Mars come!-Young Mars come!
Young Mars comet En- dey all mighty
skeered, case Mars John he cert'n'y
fond OBJ fried chick'n. But de big tub
key gobbler he dom b1eeve ct tall.
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES! he say,
lax dat, Den de drake he peep eroun'
de cornAh, en- he say, Hash! Hash!
Haish!' Fp' he done seed Mars John
comm, sho' huff. But ct too late by
den, TO- Aunt Daph she done grab
Mis- Pullet, en- Mars John he gwine-
ter eat huh dis berry evenin' TO- he
suppah. Now you chillun runs erlong
home ter yo' mammies, en- dom yo'
pick none OBJ dem green apples on de
way, neidah."
1t was not till after dark had come
that Valiant said goodby to the gar
den. He loved it best under the star
light. He sat long hour under the
pergola overlooking the lake, where
he could dimly see the green rocks,
and the white froth of the water bub-
bling and chuckling down over their
outlines to the shrouded level
below. The moon lifted finally and
scared through the sky, blowing out
The little lamps of stars. Under it's
light gossamer mist robed the land
scape in shimmering opalescence,
in which tree and shrub altered their
values and became transmitted to sill
YER sentinels, watching over a de-
mesne of violet-velvet shadows filed
with sleepy twitterings and stealthy
rustlings and the odor of wild honey
suckle.
At the last he stood before the old
sun-dial, rearing its column from it's
pearly clusters of blossoms. Il count
no hours but the happy ones" he read
The inscription with an indrawn
breath. Then, cropping at it's base, he
lifted the ivy that had once rambled
there and drew up the tangle again
over the stone disk. His Bride's-Gar-
den!
In the library, an hour later, sitting
at the big black pigeonholed desk, he
wrote to Shirley:
I am leaving tonight on the mid
night train. Uncle Jefferson will give
you this note in the morning. l will
not stay at Damory court to bring
more pain into your life. 1 am going
very far away. I understand all you
are feeling-and so, goodby, goodby.
God keep you! l love you and shall
owe you always, always!"