The Bozeman courier. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1919-1954, 1926-02-12
By Mildred Cram

time she saw women in bloOmers, thOus-
ands and thousands Of them, riding bicy-
eles in Jackson park, like wheeled butter
flies.
contact with the beautiful, with symmetry,
with color. She saw paintings, statues, fab
RIGS, pOrcelains. What she could not under
stand she absorbed, like a spOnge soaking
up water. She accepted and admired every
thing, good, bad, and Indifferent. She
moved in a da8e, a surfeit Of feeling. And
Will, browsing, thinking Of his patients
knew nothing WhateyeE about ReT; sShe
eyes we're alight with some inner fire, so
that they were like black diamonds, or
quartz, hard and bright.
She was going to be a great artist.
They went back to Paris, to the hot
prairie in mtd-August.
win said: well, it looks pretty good,
after all. ! never could bear cities. People
smother me. / guess I'm q born frontiers
man. I'd never die OF loneliness, but I'd
perish in crowds"
Gerry get out her box Of water cOlors,
sharpened her pencils, and painted her
first masterpiece Roses In a blue vase %
The doctor dragged all Of his friends
into the front parlOr, now Gerry's STUDIO,
to look at II: Isn't It pretty Real as life;
now. isn't it2 Every leaf and petal perfect"
Following this debut, Mr.. Shultz, who
edited the Paris Star, mentioned, Our ma
tive daughter, poet Of the brush, Geraldine
RevnOlds, pride Of Paris, artistic genius,
has returned from the worlds fair"
And thereafter Gerry went halOed with
an invisible nimbus; she wore laurel. she
painted flowers, sunsets country reads,
and church observation-disclosures created
from her imagination, evoked from q
crooked memory OF pictures. While, all
about her, the prairie shimmered In the
sun and sultry cumdh heaped themselves
upOn the horizon, and farmers worked IN
| the fields. She never saw them. She moved
in a world Of roses and marble balustradeS,
a world apart from plains patterned with
- IT 3D. - wnnndu NpnnN Of tho
brush. Paris child Of genius" And she
felt the weight OF the invisible laurel on
When she was twenty, Joe Burch came
TO Paris. He had been farther west, but
| had turned back to the prairie because no
where else in the world could be be nlm-
! self. 20 I've seen California, and the sea-
and I've smelled the sage your rather is
| always talking about, but I've never seen
anything in California to touch the prairie
| WHY, it's as wide as a mans heart ana as
deep as time and as changeable as q
woman. Now, if l were you, MISS Gerry
I'd paint pictures Of the prairie
Gerry shifted. They were sitting III
Maisie's DarlOr, Gerry's studio. Upon q
bamboo easel, Gerry's latest canvas, to be
presented to the Paris library, displayed
an expanse Of blue white snow, a gate, q
steeple, and a crescent moon. Joe burcu
always lOunged, and one long leg was
hooked over the other, 80 that a foot
dangled and you saw the sole of an enOrm'
GUS shoe. He was the tallest man In ParlS
He had matched brOws, a mop or nalr ahC
a big nose. Gerry always aVOlueu MS eve
because, somehow, they were too honest
There is such a thing as being TOO mucL
in the sunlight, on the outside Of things
Gerry preferred dreams to facts. She was
working toward Paris, ana lmmOrLallLy
She liked to pretend that she was chOseI
by destiny to remain always IN Ignorance
of the brutal facts Of life and death: -.
why not? Don't you like the prairieF
NO she said sharply, its crude"
Crude" Joe Burch considered ina
word. Then he began 10 laugh, shaking
his big shoulders that were made twice
as big by a padded coat. well, now!
Gerry flushed. She was almost prett!
when she flushed. And Joe Burch wa
silenced by a sudden pity for. her. Wit
all that hair let down, she'd look like
little girl-but she had a mighty firm Jaw
What she believed, she believed.
"Well, you come out riding with m
some day, Miss Gerry, and I'll show 70
the prairie mean; I've got rive hun1re'
acres. Some day I'll have a thousand
She went with him because he WOul'
, not be denied. He had a jaw Of his own
And they drove in mis- gig behind a PAL
Of PAGERS, straight up Main street ana GU
into the country Gerry felt as If some on
had snatched off the Taurels. The poet o
, the brush, driving with a man, a Iarmei
i She glanced up at him, and q Iunny MI!
shudder passed through her. because M
skin was wrinkled and burned. MS nee
{ creased like a w~Orkingman's neck, DeJWee
. the line of his collar and the stralgn
Dlack nalfs SnlnBAeu
- ''This is America" he said. This be
4 longs to you and me. to simple folks Ik
: US. We've made il. We've planted 1t. Son
day we'll finish it. But 1 like 1t as 1t /
a I run away from jobs that are done! 1 III
to begin"
a "And I like finished things" she sal
Y primly. Il belong in Paris, France. Som.
day, when you're blowing these fields /
n be in Paris"
Suddenly he swept her into the circle
10 his arm and held her close, so close tn
II she cried Don't! You're hurting me- il
lBurch! - 49,.
Gam u" Well, I mean to! You silly lit
woman, you deserve to be hurt. You,
= got notions that ought to be squeezed OF
- of YOU. And I'm the one to do 1t. l Ill
YOU q whole lot. You're going to be II
W wife, some day. Soon. You're going TO sJS
painting pictures and bake cakes. Al
b. when we're both middle aged, and sensiDl
wen go to France, But first the prairie
a got to blOOmP'
Is She lifted her eyes to his face, KNOWN
Ot he was deeply shaken and herself pan
a. stricken. She had never thought IN
Id could happen to her, and somehow she w.
is sorry, not for him, but for herself. 81
ne should not have come! She might ma
er knOwni She had wanted to live alone
in her citadel of purity and tranqullllJy, "
OF disturbed, in ignorance! She 1elt the uVl
warmth Of this man, the weight OF %
n body, the compelling pressure OF his arm
If she gave way, surrendered to her ram
ct ness, she would never again be nerSeII' D
his, deprived forever Of the laurel.
Copyrighted 1925 by Mildred Cram)
lG (To be Concluded Next Week)