Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1916-07-27

family carry the house across the road.
Then the cab went on and soon turned
up an avenue under a fiery canopy of
acacia fambOyante.
As they progressed, thick, twiufng
growths, spangIed with brilliant
blooms, walled in the avenue Tie air
grew cool but heavy with scents and
the full-fayored spice Of a tropical gar
den under a blazing sun.
The air made Gerry dreamy. He
woke with a start when the Barhadian
said to the cabman, This will do
You needn't drive in. Wait here"
The cab stopped. Just ahead was
the ruin of a great gate. The two pill
lars still stood, but they were almost
entirely hidden by vines. To one of
them chung the rusted vestige of
gate. Beyond the pillars there was
winding way. Once it had been
road continuation of the avenue. now
it was but a tunnel through the dense
" crowded foliage. Along the center
of the tunnel was a narrow path.
Even it was Overgrown. The Barba-
dian led Gerry down the path.
They came out under a grove Of
mighty trees whose dense shade had
kept down the underground, and be-
yond the trees Gerry saw a vast, ir-
regular mound of vines, with which
mingled giant geraniums, climbing
fuchsas, hOneySuckle and rose. Then
he spied broad flight Of marble steps;
at one end of them an old moss-grown
urn, at the other, its fallen, broken
counterpart. Above the mound rose
the roof of a house; through the vines.
as the two drew nearer, appeared shut
tered windows and a door, yelled with
creepers.
The Barbadian went up the steps
and tore the creepers away from the
door Then he drew from his pocket
an enormous key With rasD the
lock turned and the door opened. let
ting a bar of light into a wide, cool
hall
Gerry followed the Barbadian
through the hall to a broad veranda at
the back of the house. A large living
room faced on to the veranda. The
French dOor-windows and, busting off
two lounge chairs, invited Gerry to sit
down.
Gerry looked around curiousIy. The
living room was comfortably fur
nished. There were one or two excel
lent rugs on the waXed floor; great
couch, set into a bOW-WindOw; lace
curtains, creamy with age; a wonder
tully carved escritoire in rosewood; a
sidebOard, round table and chairs Of
mahogany that was almost as dull
and black as ebony. Over all lay a
coat of dust.
The Barbadian walked to the round
table and with his finger wrote in the
dust, then he sat down in a worn and
comfortable chair, companion to
Gerry's. He fell into so deep a reverie
that Gerry thought he was asleep.
Gerry got up and walked around the
room. His eye fell on the table He
saw what the Barbadian had written:
simply the date Of the day. But above
the freshly written date showed an
other, filmed over with dust, and above
that another almost Obliterated. Gerry
leaned over the table He could see
that long succession of dates had
been written into the thick-laid dust.
beginning with the fresh numerals
staring up at him they reached back
and back through the years till they
faded away into a dim past.
Gerry tiptoed out on to the veranda.
Before him was a ruined lawn; in its
center cracked, dry, marble fountain.
OF to one side was a giant plane tree.
From one of its limbs hung two frayed
ropes. Against its trunk leaned a
weather beaten sWing-board. Under
the ropes, wisp of path still showed,
beaten hard in a bygone day by the
feet of children Beyond the lawn
stretched wide hummocky cane fields.
They were abandoned save for little
patches of cane here and there,
punched up against little hen-coop
houses
Got a home, boy?"
Gerry turned and found the Barba-
dian standing beside him. a homer
AO o'ASN tASNt' lis LiOuSulS ny ing u
Red Hill, Il should think l have and
it's Ii" Gerry caught himself but
not in time.
The Barbadian nodded slowly 81
know" he said, you were going to say
it's live one. Well, as to that, don't
you make a mistake. This home is
Aive too-just exactly as alive as I
am, for I'm the last of the Barbados
Malcolms.
Home" he went on, isn't alto
gether matter of cash, comfort and
cool drinks. Sometimes it's just a
gathering place for memories.
There was a time when we whites
stood fifteen to one over the blacks on
this island Now the tables are turned
A chap that only takes a drink every
time he sees a white man would have
TO go to a mass meeting to get drunk
Lately they've been sending out
scientific commissions from England
to sit like coroners on this mound in
the sea. They say they're going to
bring the corpse back to life. I've been
offered big price for this old place
but I'm not selling"
Gerry looked at tho Parho5iao2 "a