Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1925-06-17

| approval writ large on the farm-wife's
flushed face.
Hello, Cornelia 70
A pretended start, notable for its bad
acting "Oh, is it you, Mrs. DeJong 1!
suns in my eyes I couldn't think it
was you like that"
Women's eyes, hostile, cold. peering.
Five o'clock. Six. The boy climbed
over the wheel, filled a tin pail with
water at a farmhouse we'll They ate
and drank as they rode along, for there
was no time to lose.
The boy had started out bravely
enough in the heat of the day, sitting
up very straight beside his mother,
calling to the horses, shrieking and
waving his arms at chickens that few
| squawking across the road. Now he
began to droop.
SLEEPY, Sobig?"
mo. Should say not" His lids
were heavy. She wrapped the old
black fascinator about him. In the
twilight the dust cleaned white on
weeds, and brush, and grass. The far
on mellow sonance of cowbell.
Horses hoofs clipping up behind them,
wagon passing in cloud of dust, a
curious backward glance, or a greeting
| exchanged
One Of the Ooms boys, or Jakob
Boomsma. you're never going to mar
ket, Mis- DeJongr" staring with china
blue eyes at her load.
Yes, I am, Mr.. Boomsma."
'That amt work for a woman, Mis-
DeJong. You better stay home and let
the men folks 60"
Selina's men folks looked up at her
one with the asking eyes of a child,
one with the trusting eyes of a dog.
MY men folks are going" answered
Selma. But then, they had always
thought her a little queer, so it didn't
| matter much.
She urged the horses on, refusing to
confess to herself her dread OF the
destination which they were approach
ing. Lights now, in the houses along
the way, and those houses closer to-
gether. The boy slept. Night had
come on.
The figure Of the woman dropped a
little now as the old wagon creaked
on toward Chicago. A very small fig
ure in the black dress and shawl over
her shoulders. She had taken off her
old black felt hat. The breeze ruffied
her hair that was fine and soft, and it
made little halo about the white face
| that cleaned almost LUMINOSITY in the
| darkness as she turned 1t up toward
| the sky.
"rll sleep out with Sobig in the
wagon. 1t won't hurt either Of us.
1t will be warm in town, there in the
Haymarket. Twenty-Five cents-maybe
| fifty for the two of u.s. in the rooming
house. Fifty cents just to sleep. 1t
| takes hours of work in the fields to
make fifty cents"
She drove along In the dark, dowdy
farm woman in shapeless garments /;
| just bundle on the rickety seat of
a decrepit truck wagon. The lights Of
the city came nearer. She was think
ing clearly, If disconnectedly, without
MY father was wrong. He said that
life was a great adventure-a fine
show. He said the more things that
happen to you the richer you are, even
| If they're not pleasant things. That's
| living, he said No matter what hap
pens to you, good or bad, it's just so
much-what was that word he used?
so much-oh yes-'velvet.' Just so
much velvet. Well, it isn't true. He
had brains, and charm, and knowledge
and he died in a gambling house, shot
while looking on at someone else who
was to have been killed. Now
we're on the cobblestones. VIII Dirk
wake up? My little So Big :. No,
he's asleep. Asleep on a pile Of po-
tato sacks because his mother thought
| that life was grand adventure-a
| fine show-and that you took it as 1t
came A lie! I've taken it as it came
| and made the best of it. That isn't
the way. You take the best, and make
the most Of it. Thirty-ffth
street, that was. Another hour and a
half to reach the Haymarket. &.
I'm not afraid After all, you just sell
your vegetables for what you can get
Well, it's going to be different
with him. l mustn't call him Sobig any
more. He doesn't like it. Dirk. That's
a fine name. Dirk DeJong. No
drifting along for him. I'll see that he
starts with a plan, and follows 1t.
He'll have every chance. Every chance.
Too late for me, now, but he'll be diff
ferent. -. Twenty-second street
Twelfth. Look at all
the peoplel =. I'm enjoying this
No use denying it. I'm enjoying this.
Just as 1 enjoyed driving along with
Klaas Pool that evening, years and
years ago. Scared, but enjoying it.
Perhaps l oughtn't to be-but that's
hypocritical and sneaking. Why not,
if 1 really do enjoy it I'll wake
him. Dirk Dirk, we're al