The Bennington evening banner. (Bennington, Vt.) 19??-1961, 1918-09-06


unseen artist who is bad butcher
al the Job of mixing color. has slopDed
d. panetslzed bucketlof pink and Law.
'endar against the canvas OF tho in.
mite and the wet pigments have run
down crafty and smootched the noun
rams and the earth and gone off
chuckling at the devastation.
The next thing YOU know is that
someone with finer temperament has
passed that way and felt remorseful
ror Inc prank and with brush of
cold water has painted all the hues
over, so that they have run together
and neutrallzed and softened in that
morning bath and you see the intensi.
lying color scheme as though behind
ven OF 'hnest chiffon Behind that.
ven the colors grow and perhaps be.
come disorderly until they fairly
scream and riot But they still blend
beautifully and reflect their hues
down TO the morning.moIst earth and
when the concentration in the low.
nung center Grows from lemon to vel
low and from yellow to orange and
from orange into red and then into a
Dall OF fire whore the sun dips M. this
reflection turns the mountainous and
sand dunes and buttes into traclngs
OF silver and you don't know which
Is the more exquisite: the sky with
It's naming vermllions and ochres
anu scarlets or the earth with its
softer swathings OF white and violets.
me next thing you know, 1t is very
not and you want drink OF water
and the sand and smoke is coming in
the window and somebody down the
aisle has a frowsley head thrust out
into the very mundane universe and is
bawling like dose of ue,-Mondays
for the porter.
1t is steady ride of three days and
two nights to reach Los Angeles. You
spend day and night in New Mexi.
co, another day and night in Ari-
iona and q day in lower California.
They are hot weary days with all the
babies whimpering and the hair OF
the lady passengers getting more and
more sloppy and the shirts OF the
men soaking through with the Bevo
and pop they have consumed and life
bounded by the horizon which The
train never reacNes and the smoking
comnartmer' hith the fans never
ventilate. And they are cold comfort
less nights when the air becomes icy
and the blankets thinner and you
wake up in the morning feeling as
though you had been yanked sum
marily out OF a morgue where they
wouldn't even let you lie comfortably
stiff The only consolation on the
sojourn is the nawless road.bed. Il
has the finest road-bed In the world
the Santa Fe railroad. The Pullman
clicks along as though on track,
which have been creased and some
times through the sudden patches o
mountains and out over the bridget
gorges 1t seems you are floating oil
air in a ship that moves withou
powes
II was my impression that when tn,
Lord made the world he had lot o
Vermont mountains. Indiana under
growth, Kansas wheatfeds and Texa
pear-nat which He didn't know wha
to do with and he brushed the REM
ants all down into the Southwestern
United States where the clutte
wouldn't be noted and man cam
along and called the mixture Ne,
Mexico. AT times The desert halto
u abruptly and hills came into view an
J. when we passed into them we foun
them covered with woodland and pa
$ ture and briarbloom that ran riot owe
: lazy fences and stone walls and falle
J. three trunks beside the highway
Then We howled through suffoca
l. ing tunnel and into q red.clay vale
e where the only vegetation was N
n pea.green sagebrush Deep, dee
G .down an almost bottomless gul
would wash lazy muddle OF drel
n that the map said was the Riv,
a Something.or-other Then the mou
g tains would sort OF iatton out an
d we would bowl down a long forty.mi
n grade and into wheat.helds and pa
rs tureland and stubble, Then out ,
n to the desert again with the que
e shapes and the cactus and after
u long, long time the train slowed dow
Ie and we saw we were approaching