The gazette-times. [volume] (Heppner, Or.) 1912-1925, 1919-04-17
AHEPPNERIROMANCE
By Pat Crow.

| My custom always late in the after.
noon Is to stalk abroad alone, usually
in the direction of the old hillside
spring, whose refreshing waters have
been the delight of man and beast
no one knows how long. Since old
man Winter packed his kit and
vamosed toward the Artic Circle, and
our fair lady Spring. in all her
gorgeous robes and glittering gems,
has taken up her abode within our
gates, these daily meanderings have
been rewarded with increased inter-
est. But yesternight of all the rest,
as | ascended the hill eastward from
the village, | was greeted on every
hand with the many joys that attend
the coming of the season we all love
so well, Yellowbells, buttercups,
grasslillies and myriades of. other
tiny flora tossed their little heads
and threw perfumed kisses as they
smiled up from the ground Robin
and meadowlark seemed reluctant to
sing his farewell song so perfect had
been the day now drawing to close.
The lowering sun smiled through the
lazy, pacing clouds that Aoated upon
the bosom of the air, sending farewell
shafts of light to tinge the mountain
tops with fire. AS l arrived at the
spring the lengthy shadows were
evening. | glanced in the direction
OF the snoWcapped peak which dimly
showed against the western sky. AT
! this moment my reverie was inter
rupted by ripple Of such dulcet and
harmonious breath that aWoke with
a start Some strange songster Of
rare note | whispered, at the same
time glanciEg toward a cluster of
rose bushes near by from whence
came the sound. Seated upon the
ground beneath a budding branch
were two lovers. filled my jug and
was silently Withdrawing from the
lovely scene, when the sweet voice
of the girl cried out: why there's
Daddy Crow" and taking her com
panion by the hand hurried toward
me, The girl was young. Nature
often assembling, had been lavish
in her behalf Her lovely cheeks put
to shame the pink in peach buds be-
fore they blossom. Her sparkling
blue eyes shown with love so in
nocent, SO pure, that she was in
capable of any attempt to disguise it..
The youth was tall, erect, broad
shoudered, handsome, There was a
frank, honest look about his face
that would win admiration anywhere.
Upon his manly breast he wore
evidence of distinguished service in
the defense of his country's flag.
Withal there was a confession in
their looks that BODIED explanation.
The girl spoke: Daddy Crow you
know those cards gave you to write
for me? Don't write them please
Sure! write them," said the youth,
"only-." Now Daddy Grow, please
don't tell" interrupted the sweet
girl, and she colored so prettily that
| wanted to take her in my heart
Of hearts.
The curtains of night had been
. | Il h,,% OF
ing, they parted just little and the
lovely hills and the beautiful little
valley were flooded with purple and
gold. lifted my hat for | believed
it was Heaven smiling blessing
upon the little scene, Placing his
strong arm around his sweetheart the
youth said: pat don't you wish you
were young again." While l was
looking for rock or something, they
disappeared.
| went on my way thinking that
possibly the beautiful, legendary,
Grecian story of the Mystic Mar
riage" of Zeus and Hera must have
had some foundation in fact. And l
wondered why this sacred union,
amid scenes so divinely natural, could
not go uncontaminated by the cere-
monial requirements of a system that
has spilled so many matrimonial
beans.
l did not "tell," but went to my
room and wrote the cards: Mrs. w,
G.. Cooper, instead of Jennie E.
Twombly.