Montgomery County sentinel., 1929-03-08

Beneath His
Station
BY R. RAY BAKER
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THE old man leaned forward and
rested hand on a knee of his
son. They sat before fireplace In
which a swapping blaze was strug-
CLING against fall chill.
The old manH He was not that
when you came to closer inspection.
He looked old seated as he had been
In the shadows, for his silver hair was
all that was really distinct In the
dusk. But now, when he leaned to.
ward his son. the fllckering flame gave
his cheeks a youthful tlnge.
There were wrinkles, but not deep.
One would take II he had led free
and easy life, until gradually the i'm
preston formed that there was some
thing about him denoting a sorrow.
Possibly It was his eyes.
70 "It's up to you, Paul." he said In
voice that was singularly soft and
pleasing. II would not try to argue
you out of this marriage, but want
to warn you to be sure you are not
making mistake-as I did once,
l regret to say"
II am sure, father" the son said,
with a note Of fnality, II love this
girl Of the wilderness"
"But your station In life," his fa-
ther insisted. "Thls girl cannot be
your social equal. You say she and
her mother live In a shanty In the
woods near Cedar Creek, where you
spent your vacation. They must be
crude people,"
"She's as good and lot better
than most of the girls In my station
Of life," Paul said. II did not see her
mother, for l never could get Anne to
invite me to their home. In fact, II
Is not her mother, Anne told me-
Rather It is her adopted aunt. Anne
Is really the daughter Of the sister OF
the husband of the sister of the wOm-
an she calls mother-if you can grasp
that.
'"They live In the woods from
choice. Anne's fhther was wealthy
and left a large amount of money to
his daughter; and Anne insisted on
sharing 1t with the woman she now
calls mother. Because they love the
woods and choose to live In them
that does not indicate n low station,
does itf And what II 1t does? love
Anne"
at all sounds very rosy, this love
talk" observed his father, and there
was touch Of bitterness In his voice,
"but 1t doesn't always work out that
mother was lovable good girl, but
she had not been educated to my
ways Of thinking. Like this girl you
think you love, she was fond of the
woods and she wanted me to spend
my life In them. I could not reconcile
myself to 1t, because love the noise
and hustle Of the city. The silence OF
the wllds drives me frantic. But I
consented to try II and built a habi-
tatlOn In the woods; not modern
structure. as | desired, but a rustic
log house to suit your mothers fancy.
could not endure the solitude and
finally one night we quarreled; and a
terrible quarrel II was In fairness
to your mother, whom loved In spite
Of our incOmpatlbllity, must say
that / was the cause OF most OF the
quarreling.
"The next morning left the house
with you," he went on. II sneaked
out Of the cabin with you bundled in
a blanket before Ethel, your mother,
was awake. did not return for
three months, and when did, repent
ant, ] found nothing but ashes TO
mark the spot where we had tried to
live. And never was l able to get a
trace Of your mother"
The son was silent several minutes.
II know you mean well, father" he
finally said. "But love this girl, I
am sure Of II and, besides, I love Da-
ture, too, so we ought to get along"
II was Pauls wedding day, and he
was on his way to claim his bride
from the forest. His father was with
him.
II said my say, and you've made
your choice. son." he said. ut Is for
you to decide. And OF course I'm GO
ing to be present when my son Is mar
rcd, even IL 1t should be in the center
OF the African Jungles."
SO they packed travelling bags and
took n train for the wilderness. At
Cedar Creek they dlsembarked and
set out on foot through path In the
woods.
Two hours OF walking brought them
to a clearing, where log house sent
n thin wreath of smoke heayenword.
IL was a small hut. but IL looked In
wiling. nm island in n sea of flowers
and vines.