The Snowflake herald., 1922-02-17

mentaI journey and alluSlOn TO mat
terS which have no part in this record.
Its substance being fully in the con-
sciousness of the writer, he tenderly
| folds 1t up and returns 1t to the pack
age-yellow and brittle and faded and
having that curious fragrance of pa
perS that have lain for scores of years
In the gloom and silence Of a locked
mahogany drawer. So alive are these
letters with the passion of youth in
long forgotten years that the writer
ties the old ribbon and returns them
to their tomb with a feeling of sad
ness, finding a singular pathos in the
contrast of their look and their con-
tents. They are turning to dust, but
the soul of them has gone into this
little history.
The young man and woman mounted
their horses and resumed their jour-
ney. 1t was after two o'clock. The
Grand Prairie lay ahead of them. The
settlement of Plains End was twenty
one miles away on its farther side.
They could just see its tall oak trees
in the dim distance.
"We must hurry, if we get there
before dark" said the girl. "Above
all, we must be careful to keep our
direction. It's easy to get lost down
in the great prairie"
They heard a cat-bird singing in
near thicket as they left their camp.
1t reminded BIN of her favorite bal
lad and she sang it with the spirit of
old:
my sweetheart, come along
Don't you hear the glad song
AS the notes of the nightingale flow?
Don't you hear the fond tale of the
sweet nightingale
! AS she sings in the valleys below?
| AS she sings In the valleys belowT"
They went on, shoulder-deep in the
| tall grass on the lower stretches of
! the prairie. Here and there it gave
Harry the impression that he was
swimming his horse in NOISY, vivid
green water" They startled a herd
| of deer and a number of wild borses
When they lost sight of the woods
at Plains End the young man, with
his cavalry training, was able to ride
standing on his saddle until he had 1t
| located.
1t reminded him Of riding in the
Everglades and ne told of his adven-
lures there as they went on, but very
modestly. He said not word Of his
heroic fight the day that he and sixty
of his comrades were cut off and sur
rounded In the "land of the grassy
waters" But BIN had heard the story
from other lips
| Late in the afternoon the woods
loomed In front Of them, scarcely
mile off. Near the end of the prairie
| they came to q road which led them
| past the door Of q lonely cabin. It
seemed to be deserted, but it's win
dows were clean and a faint column
| of smoke rose from its chimney. There
were hollyhocks and sunfowers In its
small and cleanly dooryard. A morn
ing-glory vine had been trained around
the windows.
| Broad creek is just beyond" said
BIN. II don't know how the crossing
will be-"
| They came presently to the creek,
Unexpectedly swollen. A man stood
on the farther shore with some seventy
feet of deep and rapid water between
him and the travellers.
"That man looks like. Stephen
| Nuckles," said Harry.
|
swered.
"Howdy, Stevel" the young soldier
called.
"Howdy, boy" said the old minis
ter. "That ar creek is 'b'ilin' over. I
reckon you'll have to swim the hosses."
They tried, but Bins horse refused
to go beyond good footing.
"You kin light at that ar house an
spend the night, but the folks have
| gone erway," the minister called.
III guess you'll have to marry us
right here and now," Harry proposed.
might is coming and that house is
our only refuge"
"Poor boy! There seems to be no
/
a sigh. do you really and honestly
want to marry me? If there's any
| doubt about it I'll leave the horses
with you and swim the creek You
could put them in the barn and swim
with me or spend the night in the
cabin
"It's a cool evening and the creek
is very wet," he answered. 'Im go
ing to take this matter in my own
hands"
He called to the minister "Steve,
this is the luckiest moment of my life
and you are just the man of all others
I would have chosen for its most i'm
portant job. Can you stand right
where you are and marry us?'
"You bet, / kin, suh,' the minister