The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1915-01-19
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
VALLEY or SHADOW
BY JOHN JORDAN.

1t was growing late, and he was
very tired, very cold, and very hungry
too worn out even to speculate fur
Their on the madness that had brought
him to this bleak New England coun-
try in the depths of winter. breaking
the habit that for years had annually
sent him South with his fellow tramps
long before the first furry of snow
whitened the fields. His perilous stu
alton was enough to occupy his
numbed brain, without troubling with
bootless thoughts as to how he had
gotten into it.
Anxiously he looked round, seeking
some familiar object. He was uncer-
tain as to his exact location, but he
had once known all the region well,
and it seemed scarcely probable that
even twenty years could have obliter-
ated all the old landmarks Yet, af-
ter all, twenty years was long time.
Perhaps it was foolish of him to
come home after twenty years and
hope to find anything familiar. The
population, he knew, had greatly
changed in that time, the old-time
Yankee stock giving place to French
Canadian immigrants. The old-time
houses must have sunk into ruins.
Fields must have grown into woods,
and woods have been been cleared to
enable their owners to wiring living
from their stony but fallow soil What
! right had he to hope that the old
| home or the old home-folks still ex-
| listed? Probably he would not know
the place when he saw it. Fool that
he had been to come!
Once more he raised his head, bent
for shelter from the cutting wind.
This time he saw something familiar
| "a graveyard with tottering head
stones rising from the white mantle
that wrapped the mounds above which
they stood.
Sharply he drew his breath. He
had forgotten the immortality Of death
forgotten that its symbols persisted
where those OF life had persisted.
For a moment he stood stock-still,
hesitating. He knew where he was
now!
His fathers place was half mile
straight ahead. Half that distance
facing on q cross-road, was Mary's
home; he could reach 1t by short
cut through the cemetery.
Just around the field yonder lay the
well.remembered swimming-hole. He
must have passed the old church with
out seeing It; perhaps it had been
torn down.
As he stared, longing came upon
him to read the ancient news cut OF
painted on the silent monitors before
him. Why should he 60 on--why
should he seek among the living fol
/ those whom he might find numbered
among the dead? The presence. OF
even the absence, Of single name
there would tell him much!
Yet, ii was very cold and was grow
Ing dark. He must find shelter soon
With sudden resolution he turned
aside and made his way across thu
ditch that bordered the road, climbed
through a gap In the decrepit fence
and entered the graveyard.
From headstone to headstone h
wandered, reading by the fading ligh
the names, the dates. the foolish dog
gerel that spoke Of loving hearts.
Most Of them we're old; the mos
recent was dated five years back. Blu
the names were all familiar. Man,
of them were those Of men and womel
he had known. Father, mother. sister
friends. lay side by side. mingled witt
tiny slabs bearing names familiar. we
unknown. One name alone which h
sought was missing.
When it had grown too dark to SEE
he paused and stared toward the pate
Of woods behind which Mary's hous
had stood. 1t was useless for him {
go on home; the records he ha
scanned had shown him that HON
could be home no more But Mary
name was not among them; perhaps
The fence on the other side of tn
graveyard was more difficult to elm
than had been that where he had el
tered, but he got over somehow an
set off across the field, Keeling as
walked.
His feet we're leaden: he lifted ar
set them down without feeling Il
clogging snow. But his heart had su
denly lightened. He no longer doubte
Instinctively he knew what he wou
find behind the trees, and he was n
surprised when he passed throus
them and saw the house standing ju
windows cleaning brightly across Il
snow.
On he stumbled up the well-remel
bered path, past fantastic snowflake
shrubs and gnarly fruit trees to 4
wide, welcoming steps. AS he moul
ed them the door opened. letting o
broad shaft of freight.
There. on the threshold, she stoo
arms extended wide.
Frank Frank" she cried =
last, At last, beloved, You have be,
so long-so long!"
With housekeeping feet he ma
mis- way across boards that seem
to heave and rock beneath him as
trod. Sustained by arms whose GU
drove away all memory of Ncskne'
he made his wy within nd 4"
down before the great fire that plaz
upon the hearth
MAR, Mary, Re o.. Il 81.
yet again: MARY is II rey.N ~.
Lovingly her eyes shone upon al
Who else?" she asked softly w
else? Have l not waited here Away
| knew you would come-and | wa
ed
Laurier's eyes were growing hea,
oar1 -xnro ,ati;,c