Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1920-09-20
THEM WAS THE DAYS.
(PeddIers' L.anA.l

In winter 1t was solemn and silent
| except as crow sawed his way
across it to Padgett's Woods, or 4
sleigh jingled along its winding white
course. In summer 1t lay sleepy and
dappled by the slant sunlight thar
lined it-elms planted. old Padsett
said when Peddlers' Lane vas hrst
opened as part of the post road and
the dusty stage coach used to nAiint
thru 1t right into the heart OF the
adn1iring village.
Yet. tho the trains had beeuf to
| roar past on the other side OF town
even when you were boy. and
traffic had deserted It long since.
Peddlers' Lane was still path OF ad.
venture. In the first place you had
to go thru It on the way to school
and that was an adventure Ia itsAlf. 4
You never could tell when you Nigh
stumble across genuine wArt-yield
ing toad, or by the green and golde
marginalia, q fresh-cast snake 81 /
or perhaps a rabbit perked palpitJ /
and round-eyed. In patch OF u +
carrot, too startled for the mnmi RI
to leap away. /
And it was in Peddlers' Lane u -
almost met the stork himself. An -
way he must have just been alonk
that direction. for there was u
Whittemore sweeping past you In "
cloud Of dust. his old mare. Annie&
In a lathered sweat and the familiar
buggy rafting and swaying crAxily
ct every turn. The next thing you
knew there were twins 1t Throck-
morton's place. up past dolly Bar-
ber." the huge hollow oak the Tory
spy was supposed to have been
hanged from in the revolution. No
wonder Doc Whittemore was In q
hurry. II he hadn't been there might
have been triplets.
Adventhre? Why. Peddlers' Lane
was the very Threshold Of adventure.
Hidden there STILL no doubt, nioss-
grown and faded among the birches
by the brook. is the monument OF
your first love affair-two hearts en-.
twined on the silvery bark and each
emblazoned with . set OF initials.
yours in one heart and in the other
IS. r." for Sophie Rose. Pretty
Sophie Rose. delicate and pink and
diffdent. like q wild rose herself!
Pinker still she turned when you
kissed her, crying "Oh, Elmer!. so
tearfully and skipping off for home
with such sudden nimbleness that
your initial-carving jacknife fell
among the ferns and was. never found
again, tho you spent the whole
afternoon alternately hunting for i,
and lying rapt in pleasant fancies OF
pretty Sophie.
Nor WAS the lane channel only
TOR life and love. Death and sorrow
passed that way, too. That autumn,
on the very day that little Sophie
left forever with her folks to live in
California (Which you still love rodav
tor her sake) you sat deJectedlv IN
the snake fence by dolly Barber
and watched the funeral of old Jabe
Throckmorton wind forlornly
You scarcely knew Jabez, except.
the grandsire Of the new twins.
It seemed altogether Just and ris1
that someone should be dead on this
particular day. So the slow passae y
OF the black carriages. with the hal.
drawn curtains, interpreted yo
emotions with exquisite felicity.
Peddiers' Lane. Peddlers' Ian
Do the same purveyors OF drean 4
and merchants Of desire HnRer the
still? II you went back, would )
ancient elms lean down and take y,
m their arms? All, no, They
member only little ragged boy vi,
hole in his hat.
~. F. VI