The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1921-10-25
eyes, I'm Going NowI" He SAID.

yes, I'm Going NoW!" He said.
rubbed her two hands together, and
came to the top of the steps to say
good-by. And standing there, under
the rose tree, she linked her arm about
it, looking up through the branches
where the shabby foliage of last year
fingered.
How fast it's grown since that
terrific pruning we gave it all that
long time agoi'' she said.
Little more than six years ago
Cherry" he reminded her.
"Only six years She was OBJ
yiously amazed. "It doesn't seem pos
sible that all this has happened in six
years! !" she exclaimed.
he did not answer He had her
hand now for farewells, and perhaps
with the thought Of those short six
years had come also the thought that
this slender figure in the housewifely
blue linen, this exquisite little head,
SO trim and demure despite all its
rebel tendrils of gold, this lovely face,
still the face of child, with a child's
trusting, uplifted eyes, might have
been his. The old home might have
been their home, and perhaps-who
knows, there might have been a new
Cherry and a new Peter beginning to
look eagerly out at life through the
screen of the old rose vinel
Too late now. A single instant of
those lost years might have brought
him all this, but there was no going
back. He put his arm about her, and
kissed her forehead, and said: "God
bless you, Cherryl"
GOD bless you, dearI" she an
swered gravely. She watched the tall
figure, with its little limp, and with
the dog leaping and circling about it
In ecstasy, until the redwoods closed
around him. Then she took up the
broom again, and slowly and thought
fully crossed the old porch, and shut
the door.
Peter, walking with long strides,
and with a furrowed brow and absent
eyes, crossed the village, and climbed
once more the old trail that led up TO
the cabin
1t was busted, orderly, complete; he
and Alix might have left it yesterday.
Kow had seen him coming, he thought,
and had had time to light the fire,
which was blazing freshly up to the
chimney's great throat. He sat down,
staring at the flames.
Buck pushed open the swinging
door between the pantry and the sit
ting room, and came in, a question in
his bright eyes, his great plumy tail
beating the floor as he lay down at
Peters side. Presently the dog laid
his nose on Peters knee and poured
forth faint sound that was net quite
Q whine, not quite a sigh, and rose
restlessly, and went to the closed door
Of Alix's room, and paved 1t, his eager
nese to the threshold.
Not here, old fellowT Peter said,
stroking the silky head under his
hand
He had not been In this room since
the day Of her death. 1t struck him
as strangely changed, strangely and
heartrendingly familiar. The windows
were closed, as Alix had never had
them closed, winter or summer, rain
or sunshine. Her books stood I'm their
old order, her students Shakespeare,
and some Of her girIhood's books,
Little Women" and Uncle Max" In
the closet, which exhaled a damp and
woody smell, were one or two OF the
boyish-looking hats he had so often
seen her crush carelessly on her dark
hair. and the big belted coat that was
as plain as his own. and the big boots
she wore when she tramped about the
poultry yard, still spattered with pale,
dry mud. Her fathers worn little BIZ
bile lay on the table, and beside it an
other book, duck Raising for the
Market" with the marks Of muddy
and mealy hands still lingering on its
cover
Suddenly. evoked by these silent