*
TIIE TORCH OF REASON, SILVERTON, OREGON, THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1897
such a longing for the old life. I today I saw nm ther. It could not
can hardly endure the thought th at have he» n a dream it was so real.”
[ a ROMANCE BY SAMVEL P. PIT N A M ] it is gone forever. It seems as if I
“ We will call it a reality, for we
hardly know where to draw the
CHAPTER IV.
m ust live it once a g a in .”
“ P erhaps we shall. Some philos- line betw een a dream ami a fact.
Bill, the m iner, was a m an of
“ I care not to settle it. I like to
He had ophers say th a t th is life is hut a
considerable culture.
L
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dw< It . —e • ■." hi - 1 ihL-t
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land, on the hanks of one of its th at our knowledge is hut a rem em wise life would be a (lead calm,
loveliest stream s. B ut, being of an bering; and, if w»* lived it once, hut now it is lull of ripples that
adventurous dispoition and some why not again? I’m sure I've no ca'ch with varying light the chang
w hat am bitious, he had come to objection. I ’d rath er live this life ing heaven. I am content, though
C alifornia in search of a fortune. over again th a n go to heaven and I feel as if I knew hut very little,
and m ust gue-s at a gr at d< a ’.”
He loved the m ountains, and to a play on a harp of gold.”
“Some things we know at lea-L
“ J wonder if w cshall live ag a in ,”
certain extent dw elt ap art from his
com rades,— not from any spirit of nursed Madeline. “ It seems ns if I know th a t I I ave had a good
m isanthropy, hut because he en all this beauty of thought and feel supper; th at the beefsteak was
joyed lonely studies, and also be ing that we have cannot come to an nicely hr« iled, and the gems de
cause, in the little cabin toward end, th a t som ething at least m ust lightful. And I know th a t this
not. • vening is h -au iful, w i'h th e moon
which he wended his way, lived rem ain; and yet I know
with him the only surviving m em F a th e r and m other never gave us shedding its light, and the m oun
ber of his family, besides him self, any hope, and yet I cannot feel tains lying al»< ut in grand m ajesty,
th at they have quite passed away, and the trees w hispering— I don’t
his sister Madeline.
She was at the door to greet him even though they said they slm u'd, know w hat— hut som ething very
with a smile and kiss. She was ami wore satisfied to re-t in the pleasant. Indeed '«hat little knowl
edge 1 have gives me infinite joy.”
very beautiful,— pale and delicate, bosom of nature in sweet sleep.”
“ I am glad you e< joyed the sup
“ There they are in the quiet
with an unusual brilliancy in her
eyes. Indeed, it required hut little valley; and all th a t is left is the in per, ami I presum e th at, if you
observation to discover th a t she was fluence of their devoted lives. I d id n ’t enjoy th at, you w ouldn't en
slightly deranged.
Yet she was can see Ho greater im m ortality. joy anv thing else. So we are
charm ing, intelligent, graceful, and T h at is all they taught me, and it creatures of the flesh, after all.”
“ T h a i’s to our credit.
Why
full of sunshine. She was neatly is all th at I believe. It is all th at
attired, and the cabin was in the my reason can assent to. And yet, shouldn’t we rejoice in the flesh?
best of order, and a supper th a t we have these hopes and dream s Isn’t it divine? (liv e good flesh,
It m ay la* there is and we have a good m ind. Give
would have tem pted a king was w ithin us.
poor flesh, and of what value is the
som ething beyond.”
ready for the tired worker.
“ I hardly care to live, unless I soul? 1 don’t want to he horn
“ I am glad to get hom e,” said
Bill. “ I haven’t had m uch luck can live as fully and as freely as I again. I’d ratln-r stick to the first
today,—enough t > pay for m y sup do now, with as much enjoyment hit th, and revel in the blood th a t
per, though; and, since I have no of nature. W hat is the use of a it gives me.”
“ I wish 1 had a bodv like yours,
landlord to dem and ren t, I guess I vague, shadowy, unsubstantial ex
can m ake out to live. D o n ’t you istence? We might as well mingle Willi«*. I fet 1 like a shadow m y
w ith the wind, and forget our self. L som etim es seems as if I
th in k so M addie?”
was going to melt aw ay.”
“ It looks like it,” she replied. selves.”
lle r delicate and frail body did
“ I don’t th ink one can starve in
“ T h a t’s w hat I think. I want
th is country.
We have all we life, if I sun going to live,— life contrast with the sturdy and a l
w ant.”
with flesh and blood in it, like most giant fram e of her brother.
“ Y et I hope to he rich. It seems this. I don’t want to he a ghost.” She was like a lily indeed, swaying
as if I would not alw ays live her«*.
“ How can we have an existence in the wind; an d alm ost any rude
There is a strange magic in w ealth; like this, unless we have a body blast might take In r off, while her
and, if I had it, it seems as if I like this? And we know th a t the brother seemed capable of enduring
could dwell in fairy lan d .”
body perishes. We can think of no any storm. H is strong body kept
him in pet feet and healthful con
“ This is fairy land.
H ere we life outside of the body.”
are happy.”
“ I t ’s a puzzle, isn’t it? And I tact with n atu re; while her deli
cate ami slightly diseased organiza
“ H ap p y ,—yes; but it is our fate, alw ays end by g iv in g it u p .”
I suppose, alw ays to he dissatisfied.
“ Yet wo constantly recur to the tion was the source of fantastic and
I never expect to have a sweeter puzzle. It h a u n ts us. W h y is th e nn lancholv visions and thoughts.
But her m ind '«as highly cu lti
life th an I do now; an d yet I a l world alw ays talking about it? ”
ways w ant to strike luck and till
“ Perhaps because it is in its vated, and being free from any
m y pockets with gold.”
childhood. If it were grown up, it superstition, she hid not suffer as
“ I hope you will. It can do no would devote itself to this lile and she otherwise m ight. She did not
believe in any God outside of na
h u rt to have the gold, w hether you think of no o th er.”
can spend it or not. I do not care
“ T h at would he w iser, I a d m it:4 ture, and so was not toitured hv
•r
to have it I prefer the flowers.” and yet how hard it is to he w ise or any anxiety concerning h r rela
“I am glad you do; and how cease to he childish. Even now, I tions toward him . She touched
plenty they are! So we are rich if like to sec the new moon, as I do at nature fully and frankly, and had
this moment, over my right shoul no fear; w hile her finely wrought
we only knew it ”
spirit seemed to realize more of the
“ Rich, indeed; and yet, W illie, I der.”
was feeling homesick today.”
“ We are children of the past, and subtle light and shades of the uni
“ Homesick! Did you want to c a n ’t escape w hat it ha- taught us.” verse than i he mind of her brother.
“ It does seem at times as if I had She had an elem ent within her of
see the old farm once m ore?”
“ Oh, I did. How beautiful it lived for ages. I feel as If I had that m ysterious genius th a t som e
looked in my dream s! The great breathe«! and thought lone agO> how seems to he lighted w ith fires
trees, the fields and the rocks, and when these m ountains first began from the innerm ost soul of things,
the brook,— how they shone with to he. I know I was w ith them at and knows by flashes of intui ion.
Evidently some gieat sorrow had
wonderful light! It alm ost seemed their birth.”
as if I were there.”
“Probably you were, in some swept over her. She had passed
“ Yet how changed all would he, shape. You have weird fancies at through hours of im mense agony.
But now she was calm , like a sweet
if we should visit it.”
times.”
“Oh, yes,” sighed Madeline. “I
“ I do. I som etim es think I hear lake liidd»*n in the bosom of mighty
cou.d not go back; and yet I have voices and see visions. I thought hills. There was an unfathom able
GOLDEN THRONE
depth in the expression
brilliant eyes.
of her
How differently
her hr- th er
looked! He was a genuine m an
from le a d to foot
lie had alw ays
enjoyed life, a- a strong swimmer
d< - ; l
• ; V,-;.
f '
any fortune and for any blow.
Put him in the m idst of the A tla n
tic, with hut a single plan k , and
somehow he would m ake his way
ashor»*; and, if he landed on a
desert islai d, In- would build him a
hou-e. and m ake cu t to live <*om-
fortably. T his life to him was all
in all. lie had no thought hevond
*•
the present world.
IL* expected
when he died to re’u rn to dust.
His father ami m other both were
infid Is of the “ straitest sect,” and
gave him nothing to hope for be
yond nature. Hence his organiza
tion and m ind were thoroughly
adapted to his surroundings. H is
education had been complete. Not
a single m oment had been wasted
upon theology.
II«* had never
entered a church, <>r spent one
breath in prayer. II«* had alw ays
walked upright. H e had read the
best of hooks, and understood the
system of nature as i t real I v D, b u t
h«* was gloriously ignorant of m et
aphysics, ami ail the quiddities of
the philosophers.
He was, therefore, a royal good
fellow. Meet him anyw here, am i
he would give you a cheery gre» t-
ing. W hen he sw ore, he swore
with such splendid gusto th a t it
would destroy the
im lin c h -d v
effects of a thousand serm ons, and
make <»ne feel better. There was
so much genuine justice and sin
c e r ity in w hat he thund'-red forth.
Besides, he could be as gentle as a
woman, and serve an y suffering
m ortal with infinite kindness.
How hap] ily they lived together,
— th ese two strangely co n trasted
yet harm onious souls!
S ubtle
linlfs of th rillin g and fine associa
tions hound them together.
They sat elo.-cly while the night
came on, an l th e moon in silver
glory sli'nie in the cloudless blue.
It was a fascinating scene. The
hoary m ountains seemed to sleep in
the calm splend >r, freighted with
wondrous dream s, as if tin* gleam
ing life of centuries was throbbing
in their m ystic veins. How deeply
nature moves the soul a t tim es in
her m ighty repose! Then, indeed
does the “ feeling infinite” stir and
ex alt, even mote th an wesee n atu re
in her superb activity. There is an
unspeakable power in silence, es
pecially the silence of great hills
and vast forests. The voiceless
glory fills the heart with u n u tte r
able emotions.
The great expanse swept before
these two brooding and com m un
ing spirits. They talked fitfully,
while possessed with the sweet and
ijieffable thoughts of the hour.
“ This is
into x icatin g .”
said
Madeline. “ The m oonlight is like
wine. I do not wonder th at Luna