The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1925-11-27

Service
Robert Stead
my heart the question Intercepted me,
Could Jean be ingenious enough to
use those dots, after the manner of
our modern writers, to suggest some
thing which she shrank from saying in
plain English?
/ resolved to have Ii out with Jean.
There was no sense in letting things
! go on like this. Jean had happiness
/, within her grasp, for the taking, but
she persisted In writing moonstruck
cared no more for her than for the
post that marked the corner of his
section. Spoofs continued and DELHI
crate neglect called it neglect now
admitted no other explanation.
l spent a wakeful night thinking
about this, and toward morning got
up and retrieved the crumpled bit of
paper which had thrown into cor
ner of the kitchen. l spread 1t out
and read the lines again. A night of
reflection had worn the edge from my
| Indignation, and admitted that, from
an artistic point of view, the verses
were perhaps not so hopeless as had
thought them. Indeed, they suggested
a certain germ of poetic ability A
| little devil of conscience began, an in
surrection in my sense of fair play,
| demanding to know If could write as
well myself. But 1 am no poet.
took a pencil and put down the word
| Jean, and then set about hunting for
| rhymes for it, but / could think of
only two-'lean'' and "bean." Neither
| of these seemed to lend itself to poetic
| treatment.
| Suddenly Whit of memory rushing
in from somewhere sent me scuttling
among old school books at the bottom
of my trunk. 1t was a within Of mine
to keep my old school books, if only
that in after years / might read and
appreciate the little gems of literature
which, with the assistance of phleg-
matte teacher, / cordially hated when
| a child Here it was-an old Ontario
| reader with a sensational story about
| an Indian woman who killed bear
with butcher knife. or some such
weapon. My sympathy, l remember
| had always been with the bear doubt
less because of the picture which was
made to represent the Indian woman
l had read this story again and again.
when all other passages in the book
had failed to interest me, and some
| little long-forgotten cell of memory
said would find a fragment of paper
tucked between these pages. Sure
enough, there 1t was! l drew it out
eagerly, but tenderly and almost rev.
erently, and held it under the lamp
How that strange, childish scrawl
seemed to run all over my heart and
quicker it into little gasping pockets !!
| I could feel humping between my
! lungs and the hard beating of my
pulse went throbbing Through the pa
per in my fingers.
When am old
| And very tall
| ] hope my name
| Will be Mrs. Hail.
| A mist came up out of the past and
blurred the scrawly letters until they
swan before my eyes and faded out of
sight They had carried me back to
/ the dear dead days of childhood
that Eden of life which comes before
the establishment which is the Fall
| The years between had gone out with
a gulp that filed my throat, and again
we were little children playing to-
gether, solemnly mating ourselves for
the future under the witnessing MUIR
muir of the great pine. That had been
I one of the great days in my life, and
I had not known it then. / wonder how
| often we know the great day when it
is actually upon us? But in that day
I had drunk in something which had
become part of my system; part of my
flesh and bone and brain; part of my
hope, my aspiration, my life. And
now would 1 give it up? Never
never! pressed the precious missive
to my lips and suddenly the dam of
| my overweight nerves gave way, and
tears rushed down upon me. With a
mans shame | would have checked
them if 1 could but the flood would
not be stopped-and there was none
to see. fell on my bed and let the
storm sweep over me.
After a while came calmness, and
with that calmness the resolution
which 1 recorded in the opening lines
of this chapter. / would have it out
with Jean. l would put up another
fight for all that made life worth the
living. l would not accept my fate; at
least, / would not accept the fate to
which Jean had resigned me. She
would Seei
But this was battle which could
not be fought in public, and l racked
my wits for some way in which l
might lay siege to Jean-alone. /
hardly could ask Jack and Marjorie to
get out of their own house while l
subjected Jean to the main drive which
was to break down her resistance !;
much less could / invite Jean to Four
teen for the same purpose. The
prairies, with all their vast spaces, re-
+ fused me just that one little niche of
privacy l needed. AS / turned the
| moffor ovar in my mind q clovor Milan