The Irish standard., 1916-02-26

scarce. The place was uncared for
and had fallen into its present ruin.
1t was we'll, she said, for If she had
been rich suitors would have searched
her out long since. She was eighteen.
She had been woman for years!
These things, some Of them distinct,
some only half-formed impressions, ran
in Gerry's head as he wandered over
the fazenda. It had once been rich,
why was it not rich now? Fertility
sprang to his view on every side save
one. This was the gentle slope away
from the river and behind the house.
Even here he discovered hummocks in
alignment, vague traces OF the careful
filling of another time. He climbed
the slope till he came to depression
running parallel to the river. 1t made
a line and beyond that line was desert
untamed. Cactus and thorn dotted its
barren soil. Gerry followed the de.
preston down to it's end, then turned
back and followed it up. It wandered
among rocks and hillocks to natural
cleft in the banks of the great river.
He climbed a point of rock and
gazed around him. Far down to the
left cleaned the old plantation house
in the midst Of its waste lands. His
eye followed the long depression and
he began to understand many things.
The ruin was young ruin like him.
self. In itself it contained the seeds
OF rejuvenescence. 1t had been robbed
Of it's talisman and its talisman was
water. Tons Of water flowed past II
and left It thirsting for drops. Irriga.
ton is coeval with the birth Of civiliza.
ton. 1t had been here in this depres.
sion, lived, and passed away before he
and the girl were born. He tried to
explain to her what once had been, but
she shrugged her shoulders. She was
not interested: she did not understand,
Together they walked back to the
house. Gerry was silent and thought.
full. He saw a vision of what Fazenda
Flores had once been, what work could
make it again.
The following day he rooted out two
rusty spades from the debris in the old
mill, fitted new handles to them and
took the old darby, Bonifacio by name.
off with him to the depression. They
began the long task of digging out the
silt of years. Day after day, week
after week, they chung to the mono.
tonous work. The darby worked like
an automaton. Work in itself to him
was nothing beyond the path to food
and rest at night. Labor made no de-
2ands on courage-it had no end, no
goal. But Gerry's labor was digniaed
by conscious effort. His eyes were not
in the ditch but on the vision he had
seen Of what Fazenda Flores might
be. He had fixed his errant soul on
goal. The essence Of slavery is older
than any bonds wrought by man. The
white man and the black in the ditch
we're its parable. The dignity and the
name of labor were side by side, para.
aoxically yoked to the same task.
Nargarita and her aunt looked on
and smiled and joy began to settle on
the girl. During Gerry's first restless
week she lad steeled herself each
night to the thought that she would
wake to find him gone. But now he
Has taking root. 1t amused him to
dig. Well, let tim dig. There was no
end to digging.
Gerry occasionally varied the work
Of digging with making some knick-
knaek for the house. The twisted
limbs OF trees became benches to sup
plant the fickety chairs, clumsily
patched and totally inadequate to his
weight. In the same way he made the
massive frame of a bed and B0nifacio
remembered an art and filed in the
frame with plated thongs. Work in
spires emulation. The women got out
their store of cloth. They made clothes
for Gerry and fitted out the new bed.
Pillows and mattress were stuffed with
dry bur-narigohs that family scented
the whole room. With each achieve
ment the solnber house seemed to take
a step toward gdyety. Kslin ard dtIap-
idation put forth green shoots. The
gayety was reflected in the household.
They were united in aehievement.l
Quiet smiles were their reward to
each other and sometimes burst Of
wonder as when Gerry found some old
bottles and with the aid Of bit of
string cut them into serviceable mugs.
Margarita was happy. Her cup was
full. All the dreams Of her girlhood
were fulfilled in Gerry. A silent and
strange lover, but man-such man
as she had dreamed of but never seen.
To herself she sang the old songs he
should have sung to her and then
laughed as he nodded mild approval.
4 One evening he sat on a bench on
the veranda, fitting a handle into a
dipper made of cocoanut-shell. Mar.
garita sat on the steps at his feet.
She leaned back further and further
until she sank against his knees. He
stopped over her. She threw up her
arms around his neck, locked her
hands and drew him down. He kissed
her lips and sighed.
"Ah, do not SIGH" she walled.
Laugh! Laugh but oncev'
=
Gerry did not grudge the months Of
toll in the ditch. AS he worked he
thought and planned. This ditch was
the very real foundation for the attain
ment of his vision. Deep and strong
and carefully graded it must be be-