The Snowflake herald., 1921-10-14

needs. Rhetoric is a steed for light
load under the saddle, but he's too
warm blooded for the harness. He
was for the day of the plumed knight
| not for these times. No man OF
sense would use a prancing horse on
plOw or stone boat. A good plOw
horse is a beautiful thing. The play
of his muscles, the power Of his stride
are poetry to me, but when he tries
to put on style he is ridiculous. That
suggests what rhetoric is apt to do to
the unframed intellect. II you've
anything to say or write, head straight
across the field and keep your eye on
| the furrow."
In the last diary of Samson Henry
Traylor is this entry:
II went to Gettysburg with the Pres
ident today and sat near him when he
spoke. Mr.. Everett addressed the
crowd for an hour or so. AS KelsO
would say He rode the prancing steed
Of Rhetoric My old friend went
straight across the field. When he
finished, the field, plOwed and har-
rowed and fertilized by war, had been
sOwed for all time. The springs work
was done and we'll DONE"
At a quarter Of ten the doctor rose
and said:
"We're keeping Abe from his sleep
and wearing the night away with phi
loSOphy. I'm going home"
81 came over to see if you could find
man to help me tomorrow" Samson
said to Abe. ''Harry is going over to
do the chinking alone. want man
to help me on the whipsaw while cut
some boards for the upper flooring"
'rll help you myself" Abe proposed.
81 reckon I'll close the store tOmOr-
row unless Jack will tend it."
"You can count on me-" said Jack.
'rm short of sleep anyhow and day
of rest will do me good"
Abe went. with his friends to the
door beyond which the two boys from
Clary's Grove sat as if sound asleep.
1t is probable, however, that they had
heard what Samson had said to Abe.
Next morning Abe and Samson set
out for the woods soon after daylight.
| ilhC IldL OOJ cGAo hOOs
81 reckon he's got good stuff in him.
The way he landed on Bap McNoll
was a caution. l like to see feller
come right up to the scratch, without
an invitation just in the nick o. time,
as he did. That boy is a likely young
colt-strong and timber and well put
together and broad between the eyes"
| Int Iii
added. "There never was a better
face on boy or a better heart behind
| it. We like him."
"Yes, sir. He's we'll topped young
tree-straight and sound and good
timber. Looks as if that little girl o.
Jacks was terribly took up with him.
I don't wonder"
"What kind of a girl is she?" Sam
son asked.
awful shy since the, arrow hit her.
She don't know what it means yet.
She'll get used to that, / reckon. She's
good girl and smart as a steel trap"
Harry Needles went whistling up
the road toward the new house with
sickle, hoe and trowel. AS he passed
of "Sweet Nightingale" 1t had haunted
his mind since he had heard it in the
woods. He whistled as loudly as ever
he could and looked at the windows.
Before he had passed, Bins face
looked out at him with a smile and
her hand f1ickered back of the panes
and he waved his to her. His heart
| 20 ha ind oil
"Tm not so very young" he said to
himself 81 wish hadn't put on these
old clothes. Mrs. Traylor is an awful
nice woman but she's determined to
make me look like a plow horse.
don't see why she couldn't let me
wear decent clothes"
Sarah had enjoyed mothering the
boy. His health had returned. His
cheeks were ruddy, his dark eyes clear
and bright, his tall form erect and
sturdy.
He had helped Alexander Ferguson
with the making Of the fireplace and
knew how to mix the mortar. He
worked with will, for his heart was
in the new home. It was a fine Sep
tember morning. The far reaches Of,
the great, grassy plain were dimmed
with haze. 1t was vast, fowery will
derness, waving and murmuring in the
breeze like an ocean. How long those
acres, sOwn by the winds of heaven,
had waited for the plowman now dr.
| rived