The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1919-05-01

hours. / could take Il easy then. Al
seven o'clock the mare and started
again, well fed and eager to 60 on.
It was a summer morning that short
ems the road-even that Of the young
lover. Its air was sweet with the
breath of the meadows. The daisies
and the clover and the cornfowers
and the wild roses seemed to be wav-
Ing q welcome to me, and the thorn
trees-shapely ornament of my native
hills-were In blossom. A cloud OF
pigeons swept across the blue deep
above my head. The great choir of
the fields sang to me-bObolinks, song
sparrows, meadowlarks. bluebirds,
warblers, wrens, and far away In the
edge Of a spruce thicket I heard the
flute of the white-throated sparrow.
I bathed at q brook In the woods
and put on a clean silk shirt and tie
out of my saddlebags. / rode slowly
then to the edge of the village of Can.
ton and turned at the bridge and took
the river road, although had SINE to
spare. How my heart was beating as
I neared the familiar scene! The
river slowed its pace there, like dis.
corning traveller, to enjoy the beauty
of its shores. Smooth and silent was
the water and in ii were the blue of
the sky and the feathery shadow-spires
OF cedar and tamarack and the reflect.
ed blossoms of iris and meadow rue
1t was lovely scene.
There was the pine, but where was
my lady? I dismounted and tied my
mare and looked at my watch. II
lacked twenty minutes to eleven. She
would come-I had no doubt Of 1t.
washed my hands and face and neck
In the cool water. Suddenly heard
a voice / knew singing: Barney
Leave the Girls Alone" / turned and
saviour mother, my son. (These
last lines were dictated to his son.
She was In the stern Of birch canoe
all dressed in white with roses in her
hair. / raised my hat and she threw
a kiss at me. Old Kate sat in the bow
waving her handkerchief. They
stopped and Sally asked In tone of
playful seriousness:
"YOung man, why have you come
here?"
ITO get you" answered.
"What do you want Of meT She
was looking at her face In the water.
81 want to marry you," answered
bravely.
"Then you may help me ashore II
| MI In vxyhtf IN
slippers and you are to be verg care
full"
Beautiful She was the slsrit of
the fields Of June then and always.
/ helped her ashore and held her in
my arms and, you know, the lips have
a way of speaking then in the old, con-
vincing, final argument Of love. They
left no doubt In our hearts, my son.
"When do you wish to marry mef"
she whispered.
"As soon as possible, but my pay is
only sixty dollars q month now"
1--WE shall make 1t do" she an
swered. my mother and father and
your aunt and uncle and the Jackets
and the minister and number Of our
friends are coming In fleet Of boats"
"We are prepared either for a picnic
or a wedding" was the whisper of
Kate.
Lets make 1t both," I proposed to
Sally.
"Surely there couldn't be better
place than here under the big pine
it's so smooth and soft and shady"
said she.
"Nor could there be better day or
better company" l urged, for / was
not sure that she would agree.
The boats came along. Sally and !
waved welcome from the bank and
she merrily proclaimed:
cts to be a wedding"
Then a cheer from the boats. In
which I Joined.
l shall never forget how, when the
company had landed and the greetings
were over, Uncle Peabody approached
your mother and said: g
"Say, Sally, I'm goin' to plant y.
on both o. them red cheeks o. yoI
an do it deliberate. too"
He did it and SO did Aunt Deel o
old Kate, and I think that, next
your mother and me, they were
happiest people at the wedding. M.
q
There is a lonely grave up in t..s
hills-that Of the stranger who dice
long ago on Rattleroad. One day
found old Kate sitting beside it and or
stone lately erected there was the
| mama Enach Rome