, 1927-08-03
B L U E B E L
BY Jeanne Stevens

Sne SnOulu nave Deen WrltlnS,
but this morning it was hard to
write. Instead, she climbed the hill
to the Eastern Ranch Owners cab
in. The Eastern Ranch owner was
going to Chicago.
lis there anything can do"
she asked. and looked in through
the upper part of the Dutch door
at the Eastern Ranch Woman who
was packing.
mo. not a thing the Eastern
Ranch Woman replied.
Il am so anxious to get the
flower seed in the ground--do you
suppose Owen would mind if 1
started digging. or should 1 ask
him?" she queried. (Owen was
the Eastern Ranch Woman's Yves
fern p%artner.)
II think he's in his cabin-why
don't you see." this from the Ranch
Woman.
But he was not in his cabin.
Buck, whom she asked, said he nae
gone Off OF horseback. She started
down the road that led to the sad
die shed and the corrals, with some
thing like his running in the back
of her mind: There is a horse
named Brownie little bay horse,
shaped like a COW, which is quite
safe. Even il | have forded the
river. raced my horse and been
bucked off-vices of the dude-eyen
if l am under the shadow of dis
grace therefore-perhaps if l prom
Use to ride only on the road and
slowly, they will let me CO."
She did not get as far as the
corrals. In the first place, there
were cottonwoods that had just
leafed out. hen yellow yiolets
which she stopped to uproot with
her Alpenstock, and then a whole
mas of dandelions. The violets
she put in the water running thru
the chicken yard from the irriga-
ton ditch and the dandelions she
laid in the shade in neat little piles
to gather on her return. She
was in the saddle shed, with its
rows of saddles on forms-chaps
and rope depending from the pom
mels-its meats foot oil and Pro-
pert's saddle soap,-when Owen
came along the road with the
horses he had rounded up. She
was hanging over the gate. com-
posed of two small hinged pine
logs.
Would you mind opening the
corral gate?" asked Owen.
She pulled the bar. the gate
swung back. sorrel, bay, brown,
black, o and white. with coats
shaggy from winter on the range.
and much snorting. in went the
herd and the gate was closed. She
looked through the bars from the
outside. One horse with a lame
leg had to be battered and tied.
They talked about the others,@a
white one that looked like a cir
Gus horse. a sorrel, normally gentle,
which always bucked the first time
it was ridden. When Owen came
through the. gate. she repeated:
II am so anxious to start garden.
could | begin to dig. or do you
want me to waltz" She had vi
sions of hoIiyhocks, larkspur. eve
ming primrose and phlox growing
against the logs of the main cabin.
'I'd like the ground levelled
first" was his reply. "In two days
Monte will be through blowing and
he can dc it. Then we can plant
the seed-possibly the end of this
week"
He was getting on his horse
And about Brownie. he is
quite safe. isn't he? If I promise
to be careful-T'd like to go to
Pahaska-could / ride him?"
surely he said. wen go to-
gether some day"
She started back up the manure
piled road. At the left, in a grassy
meadow next to the creek h saw
a faint biue-bluebells. Down on
her knees.=her face close to the
first friiied cluster, a flood that had
been threatening all morning to
rise broke and engulfed her. Ten
wears ago and Wartime!
"You will be brave his friend
had written, land comforted to
know that I found him near a
clump of birch and ash trees not
greatly different from the ouakine
aspens of his native Rockies. In
his vest pocket was your last letter;
and between the fingers OF his out
stretched right hand, as IL he had
been gathering them. those quiz
ering springtime flowers, bluer thar
oyoatma-pot or phIox. as blue as