Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1916-03-10

a well-worn wallet from the capacious
inner pocket of his vest and took out
a ragged clipping. One could read IN
the glarfng moonlight and Gerry
glanced through the printed lines
Then he read them through again.
THE PURPLE CITY.
AS sat munching mangoes,
On the purple city's walls,
I heard the catfish calling,
To the crawfish In the crawls.
/ saw the paper sunbeams,
Sprouting from the painted sun;
l saw the sun was sullen,
For the day had but begun.
OF dusty desert sky-road,
Ten thousand miles and more,
Stretched out before the morning,
And the sun sat in the door.
He sweated seas of sunshine,
AS he started up the sky,
And he drowned the purple city,
In tear-drop from his eye.
No more shall purple pansies
Look up at purple pinks,
Nor purple roses rival,
The cheeks of purple mink.
Alas! for purple city.
And its purple-peopled halls!
Alas! for me and mangoes,
On the purple city's walls!
Gerry looked upon his guest with
new wonder as he handed back the
clipping. Kemp put it away carefully,
rolled a fresh cigarette, and blew q
thick puff of smoke out into the moon
light. Cant say it's po'try and I
IN e.
roped me. I know that writer feller
never munched no mangoes, cause
mangoes don't MUNICH. know he new
er sat on no wall an heerd catfish call
in cause catfish don't call. But he
seen it ALL stranger. jest the way he
writ it down an ben dreamin' purple
cities ever sence l read his screed."
did you start right out to look for
them?" asked Gerry gravely.
Nav" said Kemp, ~ didn't have
uothin' to go on. But one day a drum
mer feller thet I was stagin' across
the White mountains give me a plant
magazine, and 1t had an article on
commercial orchids with pictures in
colors. They was mostly kinder
pu'plish an I reckon it was that what
got me started. 1t was the foreman
pointtn' out my mount TO me an /
didn't lose no time. drapped my rope
on him an I've been ridin' him ever
sencs."
Found any purple cities"
"Not rightly. seen 'em-more'n
once. But I guess pu'ple cities is al
ways yon side the mountain. You
can't jest ride up an put your brand
on 'em. They're born mavericks and
they die mavericks. An I say, good
luck to 'em." Kemp rose, tossed away
his cigarette end and stood leaning
with crooked elbow and knee against
a veranda pillar. His keen aquiline
features and deep-set eyes were lit up
by the moonlight and seemed scarcely
to belong to his great, loose-Jointed
frame. He was loose-jointed but like
a fail-strong and tough. There's
one thing about the pu'ple cities" he
added, ''the daylight always beats you
to 'em jest like in the POM" He
rurned and went off to bed.
Gerry sat on in the moonlight seized
by a strange sadness-the sadness the
spirit feels under the troubled hover
ing of the unattainable and the mi
rage. Life had queer turns. Why
should a cowboy start out to look for
purple cities? 1t was grotesque on the
face of it but, beneath the face Of It,
it was not grotesque.
Margarita stole out to seat herself
beside him. She slipped her hand into
his. She was worried. She was al
ways worried when Gerry's thoughts
were far away. "The Man." she said,
for thus she had christened her baby
boy from the day of his birth, ''the
Man sleeps. He cried for thee and
thou didst not come. So he slept, for
he is q man."
Gerry's thoughts came back to his
little kingdom. He sighed and then
he smiled a smile of content. "It is
late then, my fower" He put his
arm around her. "Let us go to bed,
for tomorrow there is work"
Tomorrow there is always work."
said Margarita. II am not afraid of
work, Geree. The end of work never
comes. 1t is the things that end that
make me afraid" She, too, had felt
the f1uttering wings of the unattain-
able. Unknowingly she stood beneath
the shadow of the strangers purple
city's walls.
The next day Kemp tried honestly
to help Gerry with the tilling of the
soil but the effort was still-born. Kemp
had almost forgotten how to walk and
his high-heeled boots fell foul Of every
hummock. He wandered or to the
house with solemn face. When Gerry
came in to the midday meal, he found
him with = saddle propped on the
arm of q bench giving the delighted
swaddled heir to Fazenda Flores his
first lesson in squitation.
That night they sat again on the
veranda steps but Kemp was not talk
ative. He whitfield stick until 1t dis
appeared in final curly shaving and
then Immediately started on q fresh
one.
known Lieber long?" asked Gerry
at last.
"Goin' on two -~H-s." replied Kemp.