Every evening, Wilmington daily commercial., 1922-10-11

One day last fall. as l have previ-
ously remarked. l went back TO the
farm, where I spent some Of my boy
hood days. It had been forty years
since with any sense OF observation.
l had travelled that road down from
his valley 10 that. owe the hills and
looking down, whore rivers run;
brooks idle along like little children
and the sun of heaven tells the story
of the goodness of the Lord God. The
grasses pass; man passes. The sun
yet draws the waters of the earth;
the hills remain. Lift up your heads
o. ye hills!
For years I had beer telling my wife
about hat town of my childhood.
Many a tale have l written OF the
fields; the pastures; the brooks the
bobolinks hat sang on thistle tops
ard stood guard on fence posts along
a sward as green and tender as a lawn
with fluctuations as lovely as the
curves of the bosoms of Venus. God
bless me, / know il was all true. !
know Is l saw that lad treading gin
gerly with bare feet over the stubble
and through the snake-spit toward
the meadow, with a flshpole over his
shoulder. "a pail for the fish in his
hand and his bait in his pocket that
II was a long. long trail. Miles. even
in fancy, 1t STITCHED away as l closed
my eyes and wrote as the visions re-
turned. That pathway by that brook,
under those graceful elms that lifted
against a sky as blue as the vetches
that gemmed the sward and as tieecy
as the curls OF my grandmother's hair
as it slyly waved about her temples
seems so far 10 he place where the
bridge crossed the rocks. / had never
been to C~arcassone!
The barn, / saw so often the open
door of rainy days and seemed to sec
down the line TO the other door, sc
many mild-eyed kline sOberly chew,
ing cuds in the soft fragrance of an
August twilight. Was it my grand
fathers barn? Was 1t indeed his barr
that l saw or the composite of al
barns OF modern times that inflltrate.
into the dreams of youth and made tina
barn grow its sides. extend it's peal
and portal and developheights to din
rafters where the swallows f7ewi
oOs We iuitd dlOlS Dy HHSDllnG
where erstwhile / had toiled afoot L
teach a country school; or WANDERED
for the cows by twilight (for grand
father had not so many cows as
have dreamed) or tried the efficacy o
hope and fifth as against desire an,
many wants that were more real tha-
desires. And finally we came to tn,
barn and the place and the field an,
the meadow; and the winding stream
and the rooster or the barn. sawn b
grandfather oil of the nearest thin
at hand; and the well-pump; and tn
barnyard fence and ] held up the car
Silence chung around our little part
as ominodsly as it clings about a din
ner table when the young hopeful
aged five. makes a faux-pas. 1t wa
for me 10 speak; ! shut up.
rs that the placei" asked my wife
lis that the barn where there wer
so many cows; is that the field owe
which you Jared at risk Of your III
and your feet sc many a morn; is tina
the meadow where you roamed an
that the brook? Tell me is that til
BARN."
"Yes!" said / sadly. But they hay
taken off 100 feet from the east end
cut It down three stories In heigh
and otherwise diminished IL until
am afraid that ] feel too sad about
to speak To the chauffeur. wi
i, You kindly drive along"
A little later, my wife's hand stol
into mine a tender PRESSURE; we under
stood. Newer you mind, DEAR sal
che. you just keep the barn gyo