The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1920-09-05
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Song of a Thrush.

Twentieth of June, and the world at
high tide; the woods full of cradles,
and each cradle housing a lusty baby;
the weak gone back to earth, the fit
that survive beginning to test wing
and claw. Streams and woodland
pools grow languid with millions mat
ing. Each leaf has reached it's maxi
mum of lung expansion. The trees
breathe deep. The forest has settled
down seriously to the business of full
filling it's promises Cocoon and
chrysalis have opened and flung forth
their glittering mysteries. Furnished
bodies and quay wings glance and
glitter through yellow sunshine and
soft shade, like flakes of star dust
sitting down out of the sky.
But if the woods have many cradles,
they also have many graves. There
was new one this placid June eve
ming at Fallen Rock-a new one be-
side the one that was almost new.
There were orchids upon them both. A
man and a maid had together hunted
the woods for them. Only such as
they could have found so many. Only
to her favorites does nature show the
way to her treasures.
The staunch old Boss and hard
faced Bull Masterson were back at
their watts and clam rakes. Billy's
grandmother was staying at the cabin
of the three gables few days for
company.
The Pearlhunter came from. the viii
lage in the still evening. Along the
dimm, slim path through the woods he
came, against the face of the sunset.
The swing and spring of a master of
men was in his stride, for he carried
in his pocket a telegram addressed to
a man with a name at last, to David
Wulf Warbritton. The telegram told
of two fortunes awaiting down the
river, of houses and lands, and advis-
ing that Judge Eskridge was on his
way.
Near the turn of the path he stopped
and stood listening. The song of a
thrush was charming the silence.
Only the song carried a certain de-
liciOus, elusive witchery that no bird
throat ever knew. He stole along the
path, stopped and stood with barred
head.
Upon the flat rock at the pool stood
the. Wild Rose, the tears running
down her face. her lips and throat
alive with the magic of the song. a
lady cardinal perched upon her Shout
der. a king cardinal fidgeted and
twitched his crest on an overhanging
twig that almost brushed her hair. A
pair of shy brushes fluttered and
fitted in reach of Ger hand. Other
birds walked up and down nearby
branches, or darted down for a hur-
ried pack at the crumbs she had
scattered over the rock
The tears drowned the blue; the
song ceased. The birds fulttered
away one by one. The girl bowed her
head and stood with clasped hands
gazing down at the quiet water.
The mans step reused her She
turned, and her hands unclasped as if
to reach toward him-but instantly
clasped themselves again. He turned
from the path. stepped out on the rock
and came to her side. \ moment her
eyes met his, and then went back TO
the placid water, and she stood crying
softly.
She turned back TO him after a time,
poor little half drowned smile
struggled out and brought a sugges-
ton of the dimpIes back.
Il had TO tell them" she said.
1T was wonderful" he answered
very softly, as 'if his voice might dis
turb the spell OF the music before the
echoes had finished carrying it to the |
rest of the woods.
The leaves eng uodonless. as II