The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1920-11-04
THE BLUE MOON
A ALE OF THE
BY DAVID


ties, two: Buckeye. a mile up the river,
and the City twenty miles farther on.
When the man returned to the
houseboat the Iron-Gray-W Woman still
lay back in the shaky rocking chair.
Dipping the battered cup full of fresh
water, the man steIp ped TO her side.
"your cool drink, mother"
The thin lids raised. The eyes she
turned toward him must have been
wonderfully beautiful in her day
large and deep and lustrous. The
cough that wasted her breast seemed
powerless TO dim their luster.
The man crossed the cabin and laid
his hand on the rumplcd curtain over
the doorway. about TO return TO his
task of sharpening the fish spear.
1T looks cool-and calm-up there
He paused; glanced back over his
shoulder at her, and waited for her
to go on.
rs that a log house 1 see up there
under the %cllffs?"
The floor Of the houseboat creaked
under the weight Of him as he came
TO the window. He had to stoop low
to bring his eyes level with the open
ing.
"a log house; old and empty"
The lron-Gray-Woman sat musing a
moment, her Eyes astray among the
trees noddlng ~languldly in the serene
June afternoon.
II wish I might live again upon the
shore. The sun beats down so hot
upon the houseboat, and | grow weary
Of the eternal tllrob of the river. IF
could only live q little while up there
l should grow strong"
"And why not? It's empty. and no
body would care. In these deep woods
there's nobody to care"
A flicker OF light crossed her face.
I'D get well up there, under the
strong cliffs. with the cool spring so
nest. And I've lived so ~long-since
you were a child in arms-on the river
the Ohio; the White; the Wabash ~
always. mother Always the house
boat-drifting; drifting-and you so
frail, so beautiful Z"
The man left the window and knelt
by the rocking chair. The Iron-Gray-
Woman saw the question In his eyes
a hunger for some word out of the
past a word that had never come. All
his life she had kept 1t from him
whatever il had been that happened
back there behind the veil of her ST.
lence that left him nameless; a river
waif; n nomad In an orderly world "A
fisher Of pearls; a pearlhunter. Her
eyes came back and faltered over him.
No longer n child; a boy-the reflec-
ton startled her. A man knelt at her
side-the question written big upon
his face. And It was his right to
know. Her head dropped back against
the quilt that cushioned the chair. It's
n solemn thing to be the mother of a
man--glorious but solemn.
The lustrous eyes-brighter for the
fever wasting them-came back TO him
after a time. He saw a far-fung
thouglitfulness in them; knew they
had strayed into that past from which
he was barred. The thin lips parted.
The mans fingers curled tense upon
the chair arm.
ITO a city on the Wabash, In early
days. came three families of virglnia's
purest blood-my family. your fathers
family. anu the family of-of-another
man."
The Iron-Gray-Woman s~huddered
and was silent for a moment. The
man picked up a wasted hand stroked
II softly between his own, and she
went on, strained and slow. like cne
desperately neryed TO q iong-dreaded
task.
MY parents both died when ] vas
so small that ! can barely remember
them, leaving me, their only child, 10
the cars of a distant relative. a great
uncle of my fathers. This g~reat-great-
uncle--well. as / look back upon my
life I cannot remember that he ever
gave me a pleasant word.
sMIy aunt was rs different as dawn
to dark. She was everything that he
was not. A thousand times she loved
my hurt away.
They had a daughter. an only child.
almost my age. AMI of the same name
surname and als. When uncle was
away on business trips. as he often
was for weeks. II was like sunshine
after rain. Such happy timesl They
are high among the few pleasant
memories; OF my life.
The l.on-G Gray Woman paused. her
dark, deep eyes seeming to search
back into the dead past, like q traveller
strainlng his gaze scross q stretch Of
desert to where the oasis lies. The
man shifted to his other knee and she
went on.
MY amt died hen we were IN
girlhooh After fhat-the gray days
were ever more than the bright. A
petuEance settled deep upon my uncle.
His best word was a growl. The serv-
ants moved about the house like silent
shadowa.
IN this same city upon the Wabash
lived two other families, as | have told
you--your fathers family and the
family 0f--of.-another man. Your
fsthev and this other man were both
my ~uitors. BUT my uncle tried every
means In his power 10 turn your fu'
ML