Newspapers / Polk County News and … / March 12, 1925, edition 1 / Page 17
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Kgjgg timers in By CL1UE ARDEN rrrini m ! I M>1 niiiiiiDtiiiiDi'iiiiiiiiiiiii Copyright by Th? Bo bbs -Merrill Co. ' ^ 1111 llllllllinmmilTimmiimim lTnTimiTirmTmrmmT: JPUlUiuu'' loUB-Cont.n^d I h,r r i* ith his ^r! pr:nnuve in- ; I01"'",!",' , v.". ^ of !*<? ? ? HV.l. !l"tii! nn> |!'-.,n> r'C^' ,ht ^...?'nized on,'e ? riV-M p w,;th l'\e ana jftcL it"' ,1'" lW,'r"' i *:in: '""" ' ,r lm wf> | \cahins l;ul | ?J It ?"? ?"?? Wai wade? B^ause I* Borceau i ? kn"? friend ! right with I one of the sot , ind the friendly spear j pe Boreeau naturally ; up sonu' of Baboo- 1 rea.'h vou. hut Koow? ; Then Do Boreeau i i his c:ith. He fotjRht nme near you. like a ; and carried you off | r Roowa thought he ; (tiim me, and nearly j _ laughed reminiscentiy. | |fbat happened to you? searched the island, j of the De Boreeaus |irn ed-r the bis: armchair, still i his arms. "It's quite Eoo remember the wood lere. that first Christ she breathed :o her eyes. . . . moss-covered rock, very cleverly con 10 a subterranean pas a kind of vault. This iaro another outlet ? d the shore, which fresh air aiM glimmers rave was tabu. Id | hen the triNe was suffl (pptnine to ? provide Its condemned dinner was frd not gn into details! I was supposed to be ?rte spirits of past feasts. j ?peak of it, or go near considered dead, our rurally, carried off my fried the girl who had Bach from this well j She buried her face on Btt interval he resumed realized you had been *? sriil alive, the fear tod of ill omen' would "fT with rue, tco! safety? that was the , ? "*^1 the tabu ,?avp- O'llyRoowa to enter with ?*ke'J for *.me ^?'overed? Rarbara ! 1 ms?lne my feelings the rescue party /' 1 was raving ?Wrs had done it ' "ere bewildered !ace them that the * i Sp,ut . , of a^'ny. doubtful P nould come. Mv jou." w?ul(l persuade De J to try again, not tu forae myself." she jjWored ami threat ?! everybody was so ** *hat happened to jk Plane's arrival was tribe raced pell-mell ?jj~ tiurne<l it to finders. ?j^jjers hiding for their He t'a\e an lr WD1? of laughter. "They W fr"m the trees upon ? ? klssing *ach ? faces ever sim-e. So. ? remained but to wait ? l-ast a mi> tur" "!?? T .at W ?n *** Infernally hw-vH, J- Of vnU ;,"uld Bbonr t- 1 ' ' t;ie ?T ^'QKapore? *? ' h lii rle, ^bisperwi. ?? .jt- ... |lhingi TT -i.ru ' ':rs'"' ,i? m; JS I'arbara. *hat lou? IU'V ?"rge the? .n,er* An,l there 1 V.;JS 'randed infant to hear^v.nnure'1 JeC^,hin?- She T?U left I s'u* almost V'*ry 1 |??'l v0n h ? *":i- nr SmS2>- > 1 N Vim n Ul"ne h?. ' *' Ala?- I was ^ don'? > he<1 ail ur thHr 0l<l upon the tuMe, causing the flame of the lamp to Jump. "Those blighted Pharisees! Those d? d, gossiping ? " . . "Oh, my dear!" She laughed again -if this familiar vehemence. ?i went to Darbury," he explained briefly. livr laughter fled. "You went to Parbury, Alan?" She glanced appre hensively Into his grim face. "What? what happened?" He remained silent for a moment then met her eyes with a smile. "Well ... No deaths occurred." "Did? did mother ? say ? ?" "There was a very free, candid ln terchnnge of opinion! I honestly tried to reconcile fcvour mother, but" ? he gave one of his old careless shrugs ? -she considers herself disgraced, and tulks darkly of being obliged to leave Parbury. ... I saw Rochdale, too? Hnrbara raised her head again. ??Ah ! Pear old Hugh ! He has been ? splendid, Alan. His friendship ? his struggle to ? to ? believe ? " Her vcice quavered. "1 know. And he, of everybody con cerned, might with Justness have con demned?" They fell silent awhile, each know ing, by their own Joy, what It all meant to the friend who had lost. . . . A realization of what this return would mean to Mrs. Field combined with her own overwhelming Joy to draw from the very depths of her heart a voiceless prayer met thanks giving. In the luminous, darkened -Oh, Dotit!" CHod ?*? Qirl. eyes that met her own, she saw the same look of almost reverent awe. Never had he seemed so gloriously alive, so radiant in spirit A gals she raised her hands to feel the features she had never thought to see again; then drew the dear head, with pas sionare tenderness, down to her breast, and clasped It there. . . . To both of them, beneath the super ficial lightness of talk, this hour equaled in sacredness that of their marriage morning in the dawn. But this held in It, also, the half-fearful .loy of a resurrection. The pasudark ness, with the struggle toward the light, had left ineffaceable marks upon each soul. . . .. i "Can't we go back to the island?" she whispered at last ? "Some day." He raised his head and smiled. "We'll retire there, now and then, and live it all again! But our first Jaunt is to Australia. I've been commissioned to rebuild the old bus. There's been an awful lot of Interviewing and publicity since I got back ten days ago ? " "Only ten days! And you've been to Darbury ? * "That's not all." He looked at her with eyes which held something of their old inscru tability. A i "Your relations showed unflattering surprise at what they termed my 'con stuncy' now we are rescued. Oh, lord !" "They would!" she cried, with In dignation. "The fear that we meant brasenly to defy the English law possessed them. They besought me to marry you *prop j erly, in a church.' Your aunt particu larly insisted upon a Protestant church ?not a registry office, or chapel." "Just like Aunt Mary!" She langhcd rather bitterly. "I couldn't fee* i more married," she added, with the j quick shy look he loved. i His gray eyes darkened; with a little '?atch of the breath hjs arms tightened. 'There's one thing, therefore, which j bold bad barons must have In their 1 ?awatataTATAI< pocket* when they chase their victims to Darbury, to prove their good in tent." "What is that?" "A special license. I know a parson near here. We haven't met for elgU: years ; but I wired this morning to ten him we should arrive at his church'to be married tomorrow ? " "My dear whirlwind !" she gasped. He bent, with his old violent sudden ness, and caught her up so close she could scarcely breathe. All the old passionate, dominating love, which had so often swept her away, poured forth and surrounded her; so that, panting and glorying, her individuality, after all Its lonely travail, once more transfused, transformed Into his own. "So." he whispered, "we must have another wedding, my Beloved ! But it cannot be more beautiful? more real ? than the other in the dawn?" , "With a htttle sobbing, tremulous sigh, she clung close. . . . "If we had one every year, in every land and every tongue," she murmured whim sically, "they would all seem beauti ful to me." The landlady discreetly entered at last to lay the supper. She cast one comprehensive glance at the armchair, and her smiling face grew more radi ant. "We are tp be married In the morn ing," Alan remarked. Cornish people take life calmly. They do not lose their heads or forget their duties in any crisis. "Yes, sir !" Mrs. Tregutheran agreed brightly. "I'm sure I du hope you will both be happy. And? will you have eggs tu breakfast, sir ? or bacon?" "Both? heaps !" They smiled at each other when she left the room. "Somebody must feed us." he ob served, passing his fingers through her curly hair. "Every little note has its , niche." ***????? Hugh sat long over a lonely break fast, a few days later. The "old peo ple" were away.' The London paper, with Its list of marriages, lay upon the table before him ; but he stared away absently, through the v^Indmy, without turning the page. ..." ) Presently, with gun and dogs, he stepped out Into the raw February air, turning aimlessly do^n a lane. . . . An hour later, followed closely by six puzzled brown eyes, he walked slowly up the pathway In the little wood where ? aeons ago? he and Barbara had discussed their honeymoon. The gun still rested unused within his a-m, the cartridges untouched within their bag. . . . % Underfoot, the fir needles lay soft and damp with here and there fronds of sodden dead bracken drooping upon them. The tall pines swayed a little, whispering their everlasting, murmur ous song ; dropping, sometimes, i splashes from their wet leaves, like tea re, upon the dreariness below. All the world appeared gloomy, dead, sor rowful. It seemed impossible that, soon, the sap would run In the tall trees, the young green shoot forth upon the hedges, spring ? with Its fresh myriad life ? awake with the "singing of birds." . . . The unloaded gun dropped unheeded i to the ground. . . . The six brown eyes questioned one another wonder ingly; then looked back at the tweed clad figure lying face downward, with head burled In his arms. . . . At last Shag, Hugh's favorite ter rier, ever the most tender-hearted of friends, approached cautiously ; sniffed; then gently licked what was visible of a much-loved cheek. (THE END.) Famous Old Charch This year sees the three hundred and sixty-fourth anniversary of the demo lition of the magnificent Church of St. John at Perth, the restoration of which is now contemplated. This is without doubt one of the most Interesting churches in Scotland, says the Weekly Edinburgh Scotsman. Tradition ascribes its foundation to the Picts, but, whoever founded It, It Is one of the earliest stone churches built In the country; and. In the Twelfth and Thirteenth^ centuries, as evinced both by ancient document^ and by the surviving remnants of the edifice of that time, it was magnificent and extensive. The monk of Dunferm line, to whom It was granted, allowed It to fall Into disrepair? a state of af fairs which Robert the Bruce set about remedying, but the restoration was stayed by his death. Odd Quail in Borneo The long, hairy, reddish crest gives the moderately sized, rich green plum aged greenwood quail a distinguished appearance, says Nature Magazine. In its native haunts, from Slam to Bor neo and Java, It Is a lover of the tropical forest up to an altitude of 4,000 feet, and seldom visits the open country. ' ? * in one of hla return trip* to the state of hfs boyhood, Mark Twain 1 wrote a friend be had found one thing that had not changed ? the mulatto complexion of Missouri river water ? and probably a score of centuries J woUjd not change it "It cornea out ?t the turbulent, bank-caring river," he explained, "and every thimbleful of it holds an acre of land in solution. I got khia fact from the bisbop of the ; diocese. - If yoa will Itt your glaaa stand half an hour you can aapara ta the land from the water a a, easy as Genesis, and then you will find tham , both good? the one to t at, the otbar
Polk County News and The Tryon Bee (Tryon, N.C.)
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March 12, 1925, edition 1
17
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