Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-03-29

A Powerful Story of
Father andSonWhoSaw
TheirDreams Broken
and Their Am billions
Shattered.

"HE sea- The sea. A many-masted
schooner slipping through pale wreathS
! of fog. The long swell Of gray-green
water. The thunder of white waves
on the sand SunSet-red, flaming
over endless wastes Islands of coral rising like
blazing jewels from scented seas. The sting Of
salt.
So he dreamed. TALL gangling boy, white OF
lace, blue-eyed, wistful-smiled. Harvey Lyton.
The hired men smirked when they saw that
PARKWAY look come into his eyes. Who's the
girl?" they asked, until the dreaming turned
TO gray reality.
Girl? Girl? Not Liz Murcher, thin-faced,
thin fanked? Not carrot-headed Janet Cairnes?
Not Girl? There was something In his
blood more passionate more strange than love.
The sea. He felt it beating in upon him. Salt.
The sharp bite of salt. He felt it while the
black dust rose from the harrows or when the
smell of dry hay filled his nostrils The sea.
His father was dead. His mother was old
Some day He shut that thought out Of his
mind. But the thought came back. Some day
she would die. The farm would be his
Freedom. He would sell. He would go to
New York. He would go before the mast. Gray
wet decks glistening under the moon. Billows
OF canvas stretching straining. Singapore
Valparaiso Rio de Janeiro. Names Of romance.
Names of passion. The sea. The sea.
So the thought beat through his mind. He
felt the lustful tug Of the wind on his body.
He tasted salt on his lips.
RUT there was girl, Of course. Liz MtrcheF.
Thin of body, thin Of face But her lips
red: her eyes, black.
There were long walks along dusty country
roads. There were dances. There were long
hours together in dark picture houses. The thin
GOODNESS of her hand in his The brush Of her
arm against his sleeve. The CLEAN of her hair.
her eyes, The CLEAN of her lips
There were rides Sometimes -often-they
stopped on quiet side roads He would feel .
trembling fafntness. Her body would move
closer. His arm would slide about her. Her
face below him. A white face, with two round
eyes and q round, red mouth. He would kiss
her
Gosh, LIZ"
~Harvey-"
And one evening, from his arms, her lips
against his:
Harvey"
"Yeah?"
do you love me?"
He thought There was the red of her lips
below him. The sea. The acrid bite of SALT
salt. The wind lifting his hair
Sure LIZ"
A little sigh. A smuggling closer.
Harvey"
"Yeah?"
''Then-then we're engaged"
cold something in his chest. Engaged?
White sails straining. Fog, fog Married
eff you wish, Liz"
Closer Closer He was kissing her, kissing
those red lips, that white face, that cleaning
hair. warmth flowed through him. But his
heart was cold, cold
He was drunk with her drunk with the red
ups and the white face and the black wide eyes
and the moonlight. This was love. This was
passion. They would be always thus. Lovers.
Harvey, we must be sensible"
"Sensible-?"
"Yes, we must go in"
sinking. GOODNESS They-they were
engaged.
IAN right"
He started the car They drove silently
through the night
Her home For moment she was there,
against him He could feel the warmth of her
body the beating of her heart. Wide eyes
staring into wide eyes. Heart TO heart.
Dear-dear-dear-"
"Harvey-oh, Harvey"
The scurry of her footsteps. The closing OF
her door. light in an upstairs window.
He drove He held the wheel of a ship in
his hands. He could feel under his feet the
lurch the steadying, the drive. The slap-slap
Of waves against the side Of the vessel came
to him. Sails creaked.
Liz Red lips. Engaged.
CPRMd. The black earth to turn. The black
edELl 70 cut anu RSaI ana StHOOIn dAQ plbL1k
Milking Cutting hay. Making fences. Driving
cattle-slow moving cows Heat Long, hot
days Long, hot nights. Wheat-golden wheat
everywhere.
And always his dream. Always a moment or
two TO his dream. A minute to stare over the
blue hills. minute to imagine the hot breeze
q sea wind minute to taste salt.
Then the threshing. The of the great
engine Bundles flashing into the black now.
The trickle Of golden grain