Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 206, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 September 1918 — MOUNTAIN SUE [ARTICLE]

MOUNTAIN SUE

By AGNES G. BROGAN.

(.Copyright, ISIB, Western Newspaper Union.) With a sigh of relief, John Burrows sank down beneath a sheltering pine, breathing In the clear mountain nlr. Here his longing for solitude could be realized; In undisturbed quiet, with the inspiration of ‘‘the everlasting hills,” he might store mind and memory with wonderful material of shade and color for paintings to come. John Burrows was an artist, and-his latest canvas promised future success. As he lighted his pipe he mused grimly that if it were his fortune to become a celebrity, he would remain permanently in isolation, rather than follow the entertainment and adulation attendant upon such honor. John’s friends had delighted to fete him, and he was heartily sick of Lt all. In the opinion of his oWn doting family, he was already a genius. Their wealth, he reflected, had much to do with his own achievement His dear, narrowminded mother would be already looking to find him a suitably aristocratic wife. His father’s usual pomposity would become more impressive than ever. Literally, John had run away; a deserted cabin was to be his present abode, a mountain guide installed as cook. John Burrows reveled in his freedom as he lay looking up at the sky. He wondered, idly, if he would ever marry; so many charming girls had left him heart-whole and untroubled; he fancied that love might be found nearer nature’s realm than in the haunts of society. This setting, for instance, would be aptly fitted for romance. His gaze wandered to a break in the underbrush beyond, then he stared in charmed astonishment. Holding back overhanging branches with her small brown hands stood a girl—such a girl! Eyes brown as any wood nymph’s, wide now, in startled wonder; crimson lips parted above even white teeth, a girl more lovely in her jjlnk. calico than the very loveliest wno had attended his studio teas. “Maid or vision,” murmured Burrows smiling reassuringly, “be not afraid, if you Intended passing this way, come along.” The girl shyly returned his smile. •‘l—wasn’t going nowhar,” she confessed. The quality of ,her voice was low and thrilling. “Jake, he cooks ter you, he told us ’bout you; strangers don’t much come our way, so I —” “So you thought you’d have a look at one,” the artist laughed as he finished her sentence. The girl nodded Ingenuously and seated herself An a fallen log, swinging her bare heels* to and fro. “Tell me,” she demanded, “’bout that place whar you come from.” Burrows told her of great cities and their hum and noise, .delighting in her eager face. Then while the sun went down behlnfl the pines, the girl Jumped to her feet. - } “I will dance for you,” she offered suddenly; her dark eyes twinkled back at him. “I dance with my shadow.” Motionless the artist sat, lost in admiration. Laughing softly she ended her dance before him. “Good-by,” said the girl, and was gone. John Burrows thought about v *r all the vay down the lonely trail, thought of her still as he sat in the starlight. Then he questioned Jake. Surely so beautiful a creature must be’ known through all the mountainside. Jake’s Information was brief. “The girl lived in a clearing above, with an old couple moved from town. She called herself Sue—‘Mountain Sue.’ ” But each day as the artist sought his chosen retreat, Sue was bound to appear. Sometimes sJje was there before him, sitting on the fallen log, swinging her small heels; sometimes she kept him waiting until his sketches went all awry and he Savagely broke the underbrush to watch for her. John Burrows forgot all In the love of a winsome mountain girl whose garb was calico. When' immediate business made It urgent that he return to the city, he—-remembered; and all through that night he fought with his problem. Love triumphed. In the morning John Burrows went to Mountain Sue and asked her to be his wife. Her answer was as elusive as herself. Sue had grown white for a moment; then quickly she had kissed him, and fled. At the house designated as her home he could learn nothing from the couple who were Its inmates. “The girt had gone »way; she might come back later,” they said. “Now she was gone.” Burrows was obliged to return home without further word. Had some idea of self-sacrifice caused little Sue to hide herself away from him? Gloomily he considered the question as he went through his mail. There were complimentary tickets among the pile, to see Jane Gordon, a famous actress. Across the ticket was written an unsigned message, “Please come.” Burrows did not try to place the donor; he went to the play, hoping to make short a troubled evening. “Jane Gordon.” the celebrated actress, was playing “Sue of the Mountain,” a feature of which would bo her famous shadow dance. And of course Jane Gordon was Sue, his little Sue! In solitude the great actress had been perfecting her part. But when she came to John Burrows after the play she looked up at him with Sue’s own happy smile. f ■* -I shall always be glad,” said Jane Gordon, “that you loved me in spite < •IL”