The St. Charles herald. [volume] (Hahnville, La.) 1873-1993, 1917-11-10


right a few yards ahead. skirting the
side of deep gorge. They took few
steps further. and Louise stopped short
with cry Of wonder.
Around the abrupt corner an entirely
new perspective WAS revealcd-a little
hamlet built on shoulder OF the
mountain; and on the right, below q
steep descent, wide and sunny valley.
It was like a tiny world of its own,
hidden in the bosom of the hills. There
was a long line Of farm buildings, built
of gray stone and rooted with red tiles;
there were fifteen or twenty stacks;
quaint, whltewaShed house of cOnSid-
cradle size. almost covered on the
southwark side with creepeEs; row
of cottages. and gray-walled inclo-
Sure-Stretching with its white tomb
stones to the very brink of the descent
in the midst Of which was an ancient
church. in ruins at the farther end,
partly rebuilt with the stones Of the
hillside.
Louise looked around her, silent with
wonder. 1T isn't real, is it," she
asked, clinging for moment to John
Strangewey'S arm.
"Why not? You asked where the land
was that we titled. Now look down.
Hold my arm If you feel giddy."
She followed the wave Of his ash
stick. The valley sheer below them,
and the lower hills on both sides, were
uarceled out into fields, inclOSed within
stone walls, reminding her from the
height at which they stood, Of nothing
SO much as the quilt upon her bed.
Her eyes swept this strange tract of
country backward and forward. She
saw the men like specks in the fields
the cows grazing in the pasture ike
TOW animals. Then she turned and
looked at the neat row Of stacks and
the square Of farm buildings.
81 am trying hard to realize that
you are a farmer and that this Is
your life." she said.
| He swung open the wooden gate OF
the churchyard, by which they were
standing. There was a row of graves
on either side of the prim path.
Suppose" he suggested, you tel
me about yourself nOw-about YOU
own life.'
"My life, and the world in which
live, seem far away just now" sh'
said quietly. II think that it is dolnt
me good to have rest from them
Talk to me about yourself, please"
He smiled. He was just a little dis
appointed.
1--WE shall very soon reach the en'
Of all that 1 have to tell YOU" he re
marked. "Still, if there is anything
you would like to know"
"Who were these men and womel
who have lived and died here?" sh
interrupted, with little wave OF he
hand toward the graves.
"All our own people," he told hel
She studied the names upon tn
tombstones, spelling them out slowly.
"The married people," he went or
care buried on the south side; tn
single ones and children are neare
: the wall. Tell me-" he asked, after
moments hesitation, 'are you marie
or single?"
. She gave a little start. The abrup
ness Of the question, the keen, steat
fast gaze of his compelling eye
, seemed for moment to paralyZe bot
i her nerves and her voice. 1t was as
| someone had suddenly drawn away on
, of the stones from the foundation
= her life. She found herself repeatin
the words on the tombstone facin
her:
"And of Elizabeth. for sixty-on
years the faithful wife and helpma'
of Ezra Cummings, mother of his chi
dren, and his partner in the life eve
lasting"
Her knees began to shake. Thcl
was monentary darkness before III
eyes. She felt for the tombstone ar
sat down.