The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1918-05-16

Of snow. Patches of earth steamed
wherever hillside lay bare to the sun.
From some mysterious distance n lone
crow winged his way, and, perchlng on
nearby treetop, cawed raucous greet
ing.
Hazel cleared away the breakfast
things, and stood looking out the ktch-
on window. Roaring Bill sat on log,
shrt-sleeved smoking his pipe. Pres
emily he went over TO the stable, led
out his horses, and gave them their lib
erty. For twenty minutes or so he
stood watching their mad capers as
they ran and leaped and pranced back
and forth over the clearing. Then he
walked Off into the timber, his rifle
over his shoulder.
Hazel washed her dishes and went
outside. She did not know why, but
all at once terrible feeling of utter
forlOrnness seized her 1t was spring
and also II was spring In other lands.
The wilderness suddenly took on the
characteristics Of prison, in which
she was sentenced to solitary conflne-
ment. Size rebelled against II, rebelled
against her surroundings, against the
manner of her being there against
everything. She hated the North, she
wished to he gone from II, and most
of all she hated Eli Wagstaff for con-
stralning her presence there.
All the heavlness Of heart, all the re-
sentiment she had felt in the first few
days when she followed him perforce
away from Carlboo Meadows, came
back to her with redoubled force that
afternoon. She went back into the
house, now gloomy without n fire,
slumped fOrlOrnly into n chair, ana
cried herself into afondton approach
Ing hysteria. And she was sitting there
her head bowed on her hands, when
Bill returned from his hunting. The
sun sent a shaft through the south
window, a shaft which rested on her
dropping head. Roaring Bill walked
slowly up behind her and put his hand
on her shoulder.
"What is 1t, little persona" he asked
gently.
She refused to answer.
"Say." he bent little lower, you
know what the Tentmaker said:
"Come fll the cup, and In the fire OF
spring
Your winter garment Of repentance fling;
The Bird of Time has but little way
To futter-and the Bird is on the wing
"Lifes too short to waste any OF IL
in being uselessly miserable. Come on
out and 90 for ride on Silk. I'll take
you up a mountainside, and show you
waterfall that leaps three hundred
feet In the clear. The woods are wax
ing up and putting on their Easter bon
nets. There's beauty everywhere. Come
alongw
But she wrenched herself away
from him.
81 want to go homer she walled. 81
hate YOU and the North, and every
thing in 1t. If you've got spark Of
manhood left in you, you'll take me out
of here"
Roaring Bill backed away from her.
"DO you mean that? Honest InjunT
he asked incredulously.
81 do dol" she cried vehemently.
Haven't | told you often enough?
didn't come here willingly, and l won't
stay. l will not | have right to
live my life in my own way, and it's
not this way"
$50 Roaring Bill began evenly,
"springtlme with you only means get
back into the muddled rush of peOpled
places, do you? You want to be where
you can associate with fluffyruflle,
pOmpadoured girls, and be properly in
troduced to equally proper young men.
Lord, but / seem to have made a mis-
takel And, by the same token, I'll
probably pay for tin way you
wouldn't understand IL you lived n
thousand years. Well, set your mind
at rest. I'll take you out. Ye gods and
little fishes, but / have sure been a
fool |"
He sat down on the edge Of the table,
and Hazel blinked at him, half scared,
and full of wonder. She had grown
so used to seeing him calm, imperturb-
able, smiling cheerfully no matter what
she said or did, that his passionate out
break amazed her. She could only sit
and look at him.
He got out his cigarette materials.
But his fingers trembled, spilling the
tobacco. And when he tore the paper
In his efforts 10 roll Il. he dashed pa