The Watertown weekly leader. [volume] (Watertown, Jefferson County, Wis.) 1912-1917, 1916-06-27

|
| have helped me-
eyes, you have your home" said she.
''Oh, it is such a nice oner'
She turned away, and went over to
the east fire. poking it with her toe. l
lit my pipe. sat down at my old. IA
miliar desk, heaved a great sigh Of
comfort, and opened a manuscript.
Its only four o'clock" said |. 81
can get in that hour | wasted in sleep
this morning Can you find something
to read? 2"
| Il ought to-" she smiled.
| l plunged into the manuscripts
silly novel | read on, vaguely aware
| that the west was breaking, and the
room growing warm. Presently l heard
a, window opened and felt the cooler
rush of rain-freshened air from. the
fragrant orchard Then | heard the
painters come downstairs, talking. and
| tramp out through the kitchen. 1t was
five o'clock. But | still read on. to fin
ish a chapter. The painters had de-
parted. The entire house was still.
Suddenly there stole through the
room the soft andante theme of Mo
Fart sonata, and the low sun at almost
| the same instant dropped into the
clear blue hole in the west and flooded
| the room. / let the manuscript fall.
and sat listening peacefully for full
minute Then | moved across the
| cheerful the room looked, how booky
and old-fashioned! 1t seemed as if
had always dwelt there How easy it
would be to put out my hands and rest
them on her shoulders, and lay my
cheek to her hair! The impulse was
ridiculOusly strong to do SO, and |
| tingled to my finger tips with a strange
excitement.
Come" I said, 'it is after five, and
| the sun is out. We will go to hear the
thrush"
The girl faced around on the bench
raising her face to mine. yes, let
us" she answered. How lovely the
room looks now. Oh, the nice new old
roomr'
| She fingered in the doorway a sec
Ond, and then we stepped out Of the
| front entrance where we stood en-
| tranced by the freshness of the rain
washed world in the low light of after
noon, and the heavy fragrance of wet
| lilac buds enveloped us Then the girl
gathered her skirts up and we went
down through the orchard, where the
| ground was strewn with the fallen
petals, through the naples where the
| song sparrow was singing. and in
among the dripping pines. The brook
was whispering secret things, and the
| drip from the trees made a soft tinkle,
| just detachable, on its pools.
We waited one minute, two min
| utes three minutes in silence, and then
| the fairy clarion sounded the 'cool
| bars of melody from the everlasting
! evening" 1t sounded with thrilling
nearness, so lovely that it almost hurt,
and instinctively 1 put out my hand
| and felt for hers. She yielded it, and
! so we stood, hand in hand, while the
| thrush sang once, twice, three times,
now near, now farther away, and then
| it seemed from the very edge Of my
| clearing. I still held her hand, as we
waited for another burst Of melody
But he evidently did not intend to sing
| again. My fingers closed tighter over
hers as 1 felt her face turn toward
mine, and she answered their pressure
while her eyes glistened, I thought,
with tears. Then her hand slipped
away.
Don't speak," she said, leading the
way out of the grove.
We went into the house again to
make sure that the fires had burned
down. The room was darker now, filled
with twilight shadows. The last of the
logs were glowing red on the hearths,
and the air was hot and heavy after
the fresh outdoors. But how cheerful.
how friendly, how like human thing,
! with human feelings of warmth and
welcome, the room seemed to me!
1T has been a wonderful day." said
[, as we turned from the fires to pass
out. II wonder if I shall ever have
so much joy again in my house?"
The girl at my side did not answer.
| l looked at her, and saw that she was
struggling with tears.
| | did instinctively the only thing my
clumsy ignorance could suggest-put
my hand upon hers. She withdrew it
quickly.
NO, nor she cried under her breath.
| "Oh, 1 am such fool! Fool-middle
English fool, fole, fol: Icelandic, fol:
cid French fol-always the same
wordr'
| She broke into plaintiye little laugh.
ran through the hall and lifted the
stove lid to see if the fire there was
o;lt, and fastened to the road, where
l had difficulty to keep pace with her
| as we walked up the slope to supper.
You need a rest more than you
think, I guess" I tried to say, but she
| only answered, 81 need it lessr' and
made off at once to her room. That
night l didn't go back to my house to
work. l didn't work at all. I looked
out of my window at a young moon
| for long while, and then-yes. 1 con-
! fess it, though l was thirty years old, |
wrote a sonnet
Why is it that big, strapping
man wants to write poetry when
.,e falls in love? This seems to
be one of the early symptoms of
the disease"
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