The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1922-12-15

The mapIe-bOrdered street was as
still as a country Sunday; so quiet
that there seemed an echo to my foot
steps. 1t was four o'clock in the morn
ing; clear October moonlight misted
through the thinning foliage to the
shadOwy sidewalk and lay like trans
parent silver fog upon the house of my
admiration, as l strobe along, return
ing from my first nights work on the
Wainwright Morning Despatch.
l had already marked that house as
the finest Ito my taste) in Wainwright,
though hitherto, on my excursions to
this metropolis, the state capital, was
not without a certain native jealousy
that Spencerville, the county-seat
where l lived, had nothing so good.
Now, however, l approached its pur-
lieus with a pleasure in it quite unal-
loyed, for I was at last myself a resi-
dent (albeit of only one days stand
ing) of Wainwright, and the house
though l had not even an idea who
lived there-part of my possessions as
a citizen. Moreover, might enjoy the
warmer pride of a next-door- neighbor,
for Mrs. opportunities, where I had
taken room, was just beyond.
This was the quietest part of Vain
wright; business stopped short Of 1t.
and the fashionable residence Sec
ton" had overleaped this forgotten
backwater," leaving 1t undisturbed and
unchanging, with that look about 1t
which is the quality Of few urban
quarters, and eventually of none, as
town grows to be a city-the look Of
still being a neighborhood. This friend
Illness Of appearance was largely the
emanation of the homely and beauti-
full house which so greatly pleased my
fancy.
1t might be difficult to say why ]
thought it the finest house in Vain
wright, for simpler structure would
be hard to imagine; it was merely
big, old-fashioned brick house, painted
brown and very plain, set well away
from the street among some splendid
forest trees, with a fair spread of fat
lawn. But it gave back a great deal
for your glance, just as some people
do. 1t was a large house, as I say, yet
it looked not like mansion but like
a home; and made you wish that you
lived in it. Or. driving by. of an eve
ming, you would have liked to stop
your car and go in; it spoke so sure
ly of hearty, old-fashioned people liv-
ing there, who would welcome you
merrily.
1t looked like q house where there
were a grandfather and grand
mother; where holidays were warmly
kept; where there were boisterous
family reunions to which uncles and
aunts. who had been born there would
return from no matter what distances;
a house where big turkeys would be
on the table often; where one called
"the hired man." (and named either
Abner or OIe) would crack walnuts
upon a flatiron clutched between his
knees on the back porch; 1t looked
like a house where they played cha
rades; where there would be long
streamers q evergreen and dozens of
wreaths Of holly at Christmas time;
where there were fearful, happy we'd
dings and great thrOwings of rice after
little brides, from the broad front
steps: In a word, 1t was the sort Of a
house to make the hearts Of spinsters
and bachelors very lonely and visit
ful-and that is about as near as can
come to my reason for thinking 1t the
finest house in Wainwright.
The moon hung kindly above its
level door in the silence Of that Oc-
tober morning, as I checked my gait
to loiter along the picket fence; but
suddenly the house showed a light of
its own. The squirt of a match took
my eye to one of the upper windows,
then a Steadier glow of orange told
me that lamp was lighted. The win
dow was opened, and a man looked
out and whistled loudly.
stopped, thinking he meant to at
tract my attention; that something
might be wrong; that perhaps some
one was needed to go for doctor. My
mistake was Immediately evident. how
ever; I stood in the shadow Of the
trees bordering the sidewalk, and the
man at the window had not seen me.
boy! Boy" he called, softly.
Where are you, Simpledoriaf"
He leaned from the window, looking
downward "Why, there you are!" he
exclaimed, and turned to address some
invisible person within the room. Hes
right there underneath the window.
TIL bring him up" He leaned
out again. "Wait there. Simpledoria !"
he called. "I'll be down In fifty and
let you In"
Puzzled, stared at the vacant lawn
before me. The clear moonlight re-
vealed it brightly. and 1t was empty Of
any living presence; there were no
bushes nor strawberries - nor even