Idaho County free press. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho Territory) 1886-current, 1922-09-28
THE LIGHTHOUSE
BY MILDRED WHITE


shining tower day after day he sat.
1t was very still there and uninter-
rupted. He could work on the boo6,
which was the effort of his life. The
urge to write had been with the light.
house keepers son while he was a
lad at school. Even then bright
dreams persisted, fostered by the lone
ly life he led, when reading was his
only pastime.
Sandy, his Scotch father, would
smile whimsically as he read the titles
of the books that Bruce rode so far
to obtain. Unlike boys reading were
these classics and tales of yore
you'll have to follow me at the
lights, Lady," the old man remind
ed; but the son who had come late
to gladden. his fathers departing days,
listened absently from his place be-
fore the fire, and read on.
Now, the father was forever gone
and Bruce, 1t seemed, was, indeed,
fated to carry on the lights. In his
stilted environment he had learned
no other trade-and the perpetrating
of his dream kept him content.
Dark nights when the light like
great pointing hand sent its warning
across the seething water, Bruce, his
dark hair rumpled, his fine hrows
drawn in thought, sat absorbed In the
tower, his flying fingers writing, writ
ing. Far down at fashionable sum-
mer hotel girl one night glimpsed
the high tower as its great silvery
finger caressed her hair, showing her
for q moment q white vision, lovely
and wistful. Il would like" said this
girl to a man beside her. ito ride out
across the sea some day and touch
my boat to the shores of the light.
Maybe" she smiled up at him, "Pd
like to stay there until 1 should find
myself"
The man returned her smile lazily.
"Are we so distracting? Or is it
that you are weary of my Emporium
ity? AS for finding yourself think
that If you would not further ques-
ton but yield to wisdom and the love
unconsciously pleading within, our
happiness need not wait"
"Is it pleading?" her tone was rue
full. 81 do not know. / alone realize
discomfort"
She arose impatiently. "Good
night"
With an angry scowl the man
looked after her. James Ivor was un.
accustomed to the thwarting Of his
will. and he had willed that Camelia
Carroll should be his wife.
The morning sun was shining when
Camelia steered her little boat de
liberately across the dancing waters.
Bruce was busy over his book. He
did not hear the tap Of Camelia's slip
pered feet as she climbed the spiral
stairs. SO his first sight of her was
as she stood in the tower doorway.
ooh, l did not expect" murmured
Camelia, distressed, Ito find anyone
here. An old man used to keep the
light years ago when l was a little
girl. 1t was all so still then and rest
full. / used to come, sometimes, alone
up this stair. I'll go down now" she
added hastily.
But Bruce came slowly toward her.
please" he said wonderingly, and
that was all. But Camelia promptly
and properly translated the request
He wanted her to remain. 1t was
strange. Stranger still, that he so
reticent, should unasked, pour out to
her the story of his ambition neces-
sarily restrained, should show to her
the book itself. She seemed to have
known that it would be that kind of
a book, strong and fine.
He rode back with her in the noon
hour. She was comparing the direct
appeal of Bruce MacDonald's eyes
against the shrewd CLINT of James
Ivor's.
81 am glad 1 came" she said sud
1enly. at has helped me in de-
,ision." Camelia's smile was per-
picked. Though 1 cannot tell In |
what way" she added.
Bruce lifted her gently, yet with an
lir of possession over the side of the |
)oat to shore. "You will come again"
lp Sal0. his WOIuS Mclt uot quNS |
ion but joyous assurance. She stood |
ooking up at him.
Tonight" she remarked Irrelevant
V, 81 will watch your signal across
he sea. and / will think of you there
,ehind the light. You will be writing
our book. You are near the end.
Wonder how 1t will end. Perhaps,
sometime, you will tell me-"
81 will tell you nOw," the young
nan answered gravely. Il did not
ealize until today that the story of
owe must always end happily. Hap
,iness is loves natural right. Love
nds its own Bruce Macdonald
nut. out his hand Camelia- chung to it.
"And L." he said, will come to you
vhen my book finds success"
She watched her little boat until 1t
bowed like a shell on the ocean.
Watching, she smiled.
He has forgotten, unused Camelia,
hat il is my boat and that he Will
ave to bring it back in the morning.
Turning. she looked up into another