The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1931-04-17

of new scenes, new faces began to
pail. The second era of his iscon-
tent was upon him.
1t was not that the fifteen years
following his decision had been unhap-
by ones. On the contrary, they had
been rich, fruitful. yielding and ad-
venturOus. The university of the uni
verse had been Gilbert's. Figuratively
and literally speaking. he had kept
lean, whetted with an appetite for
life, for wisdom. for experience, for
love. And yet sometimes ii seemed to
Gilbert, as he entered a new port, as
he steamed out of another, as spiced
and foreign wines slid against his
palate, as the sweet. hooking eyes of
exotic women beckOned him, as he
lived and learned and suffered, that
after all he was getting nowhere.
And that, for one who has made the
kind of momentOus decision that Gil
bert had fifteen years before, is dis
heartening realization. He had sac
rificed everything. Well and good. but
only if the sacrifice had been juSti-
fed.
Whittier? was the question that be-
gan TO engrave itself acidly into the
heart and mind and the consciousness
of the wanderer Freedom and what
to do with it? Leisure and where to
spend it? The world his playground
and where to play?
He was always coming, he was al
ways going. Maidens smiled at him
out of their easements. They had
homes. They belonged there. They
were rooted to some soil. Everybody,
it seemed to Gilbert, was rooted to
some soil and even though the men
with whom he came in contact in the
cities and along the countrysides-
family men with responsibilities
tened with wistful eyes as Gilbert re-
men, surrounded with the intangible
aura of belonging.
1t began to dawn upon Gilbert that
he belonged nowhere and yet that
was not what was bothering him. He
would not, had he been able to manip-
ulate backwards the magic time-car-
pet, have returned to the life he had
so debonairly discarded back in his
youth days. If certain dissatisfa ctiOns,
nOstalgias were upon him, they were
not those Of regret.
He was sick with quest.
Neither must you think that In all
these years Gilbert had been without
the pastimes. the amours, the gratifi-
cations that have to do with women.
He had crossed the paths of many and
they had left their memories upon
him. Yet, at forty-five, Gilbert, fail
ure. was still seeking.
1t was in Naples. Of all places, when
Gilbert was forty-eight, that he ran
across. in the open market place, a
girl named Chita. She was selling
lemons out of a big beautiful basket
and she had driven in that morning
with them piled On a donkey cart,
from the Incompatible hills of Amalfi.
She was beautiful in brown, Italian
way, no STRIPPING of a girl, but with a
blown maturity to her. Rich, rather
dusky skin and white teeth that
flashed against it.
Gilbert, who spoke many patOis OF
Italian, drove back in the hills Of
Amalf with her in the donkey cart.
She lived in white adobe house with
an ancient grandmother and their
worldly possessions consisted of seven
lemon trees, an orange tree, goat and
a silk quilt. The view from the adobe
house was the incredible Bay Of
Naples, Mount Vesuvius turquoise
blue of sky and water.
Gilbert and Chita were married In
the small church in the center of the
square of the nearest village. She
wore orange blossoms from her own
tree and the little ceremony was at
tended with all the pageantry of these
peasant people of the hills.
Gilbert has built wing to the
adobe house, which he calls his study.
Most of his mornings he writes in
there, his view the sail-specked blue
decked Italian bay. Afternoons, he
helps Chita in the orchard and, before
supper, he milks their goat.
His book is half finished and he
has increased the fruit trees around
the house until they number twenty.
The old crone of grandmother
blesses him each day. Chita is as full
some as summer. She is with child.
Gilbert knows well in what light his
life will be regarded by the world he
has deserted.
In his own eyes, he is no longer
failure.