The Oakley herald. [volume] (Oakley, Idaho) 1908-1961, 1921-03-11


thirteen when his painting began. Tit
Shepherd looked at he's with an ex
clamation Of delight; until then he ha'
never seen a beautiful young maiden
Homely ill-clad daughters of tn
working folk had come TO his room
with field flowers now and then. bu
no one like Pauline. He felt her hail
and looked wistfully into her face anC
said that she was like pink and white
/ and yellow roses. She was a discov
ery-a new kind of human being
Often he thought of her as he sal
looking out of the window and often
he dreamed of her at night.
The little Shepherd of the Birds
was net quite a boy. He was a spirit
untouched by any evil thought, un.
broken to lures and thorny ways He
was like the flowers and birds of the
garden strangely fair and winsome.
with slken, dark hair curling about
his brows He had large, clear, brown
eyes, mouth delicate as a girls and
teeth very white and shapely. The
Bakers had lifted the boundaries of
his life and extended his vision. He
found new JOY in studying flower
forms and in initiating their colors on
canvas
Now, indeed, there was not a hap
pier lad in the village than this young
prisoner in one of the two upper bed
rooms in the small cottage of the
Widow Moran. True, he had moments
of longing for his lost freedom when
he heard the shouts of the boys in the
street and their feet hurrying by on
the sidewalk The steadfast and cou
rageous Mr.. Bloggs had said; II guess
we have just as much fam as they do,
after all. Look at them roses"
One evening. as his mother sat
reading an old love tale to the boy, he
stopped her.
q Mother" he said 81 love Pauline.
Do you think II would be all right for
me to tell herr"
"Never a word" said the good
woman. "Ye see it's this way, my lit
tie son. ye're like priest an it's not
the right thing for priest"
81 don't want to be a priest" said
he impatiently.
Tut, tut. my laddie boy It's for
God to say an for us TO obey" she
answered.
When the widow had gone to her
room for the night and Bob was think
ing II over, Mr.. Bloggs remarked that
in his opinion they should keep up
their courage, for it was very grand
thing to be priest after all.
Winters he spent deep in books out
of Judge Crooker's library and tending
his potted plants and painting them
and the thick blanket of snow In the
garden. Among the happiest moments
of his life were those that followed his
mothers return from the postofiice
with the Bingvile Sentinel. Then. as
the widow was wont to say, he was
like a dog with bone. To him, Bing-
Vile was like Rome in the ancient
world or London in the British en-
pire. All roads led to Bingville. The
Sentinel was in the nature of a habit.
One issue was like unto another-as
ike as "two chaws off the same plug
# tobaccer" a citizen had once said.
important in the Sentinel
annon In meeting house. Every week
t caught the toy balloons of gossip.
he thistledown events which were
loating in the still air of Bingville.
The Sentinel was a dissipation as en-
oyable and as inexplicable as tea.
To the little Shepherd. Bingville
vas the capital of the world and Mr..
7. Patterson Bling, the first citizen of
5ingville, who employed eleven hun
red men and had four automobiles,
vas gigantic figure whose shadow
across the earth. There were |
wo people much in his thoughts and |
reams and conversation alline |
baker and j. Patterson Bing Often
here were articles in the Sentinel re-
arding the great enterprises of Mr..
ing and the social successes of the
ling family in the metropolis. These
e read with hungry interest. His
avorite heroes were George Wash
lgton. St Francis and J. Patterson
ling. AS between the three he would.
ecretly. have voted for Mr.. Bing. In
eed he and his friends and intimates
Mr. Bloggs and the rubber tree and
he little pine bureau and the round
ickel clock-had all voted for Mr..
Eng. But he had never seen the great
IAN.
Mr.. Bling sent Mrs Moran check
very Christmas and. now and then,
Dme little gift to Bob, but his char
les were strictly impersonal. He
sed to say that while he was glad to
clip the poor and the sick. he hadn't
me TO call on them. Once Mrs. Bing
romised the widow that she and her
usband would e to see Bob on
hsistmas day. The little Shepherd
sked his mother 10 hang his best
ctures on the walls and to decorate
lem with sprigs of cedar. He put on
IS starched shirt and collar and silk
e and a new black coat which his
other had given him. The Christmas
els never rang so merrily.