Indianapolis Times, Volume 35, Number 193, Indianapolis, Marion County, 22 December 1922 — Page 8
8
A Hoosier Chronicle By MEREDITH NICHOLSON First Novel in thè Times Series of Fiction Stories by Indiana AVriters 0 * . . (Copyripht. 19J.2, by Mcredith Nicholson.)
Bassett re-elected to hls old Beat In " thè Senato without difficulty, and Harwood ran ahead of his assoclates on thè legislativa ticket In Marion County, scoring a plurallty that testlfied to hls personal popularity. Another campaign must intervene before thè United States Senatorship became an acute Issue, and meanwhile thè party In thè State had not in many years been so United. Credit waa freely given to thè Courler for thè formldable strength developed by thè Democracy, and it had become indubitably a vigorous and conservative reflector of party opinion, without estranglng a growing consti tuency of readers who llked Ita clean orderly presentation of generai news. The crwnership of thè newspaper had become, 'slnce thè abrupt termlnatlon of thè lawsult ihstltuted by Thatcher, almost as much of a mystery aa formerly. Harwood’s Intimate relatlon3 wlth lt had not been reviveà, and ' neither Mrs. Owen nor Bassett ever spoke to hlm of thè newspaper except In thè mot casual fashion. In wihdlng up thè receivershlp of thè paper company Bassett had ' treated Harwood generously. Dan waa out of debt; he had added forty acres of good land to hls father's farm, and he kept a Uttle money In bank. He had even made a few small Investment In locai securities that proinised well, and hls practlce had become quite lndependent of, Bassett; almost imperceptlbly Bassett had ceased to be a factor In hls prosperity. The office In thè Boordman Building remalned thè same, and Bassett spent a good deal of time there. There were days when he seemed deeply preoccupled and he sometlmes buri ed himself In hls room without obvlous reason; then aster an interrai he would come out and throw hls leg over a corner of Dan’s desk and talk to him wlth hls earlier frankness. Once he suggested that Dan mlght llke to leave thè Boordman for a new office building that was lifting thè urban skyline; but thè followlr.g day he carne rather polntedly to Dan'* desk, and wlth an embarrassment he rarely ehowed, said that of course lf Dan moved he should expect to go with ■ hlm; he hoped Dan had understood i that. A few days later he entrusted Dan wlth severa! commissione that he seemed to have devised solely to show his good wlil and confldence. Harwood was happy these days. He was stili young and llfe had dealt kindly wlth hlm. Among lawyer he was rolnted to as a comìng llght of thè bar; and In politica he was thè most consplcuous man of hls age In thè State. He was invlted to Harrlson Oounty that fall to deliver an address at a reunlon of thè veterans of hls father's regiment, and that had pleased hlm. He had more than Justifled -thè nopes of his parents and brothers. and they were very proud of him. While they did not understand hls apostasy from thè famiìy’s stem RepubUcanlsm, that did not greatly matter when Dan’s narri e so often carne floating home in thè Indianapolis newspaper. Hls mother kept careful track of his socinal enthraìlments; her son was frequently among those present at private and public dlnnera; and when thè presldent of Yale vlslted Indiana, Dan spoke at thè banquet glven In his honor by thè alumni; and not without emotion doee a woman whose llfe has been spent on a humble farm flnd that her son has won a place among peopl© of dlstinctlon in a city whlch ls to her thè capitai of thè Universe. There were tlmes when Dan wlshed to be free of Bassett He had reached a polnt where Bassett was not only of little servlce to hlm, but where he felt he was of little use to Bassett And lt was lrksome to flnd that all thè locai newspapers, except thè Courler constantly lndentlfled thè Boordman Building wlth Bassett’s politicai actlvities. Amld all thè agitatlons of thè campalgn Dan had seen as much as posslble of Sylvia. The Eettlement of Andrew Kelton’s estate gave him an ex* cuse for Consulting her. , frequently, . but he sought her frankly for thè pleasur© of seeing her. He sound that she was a good deal at Mrs Owen's, and lt was pleasanter to run In upon her there than at Elizabeth House, • where they must needs share thè pari lor wlth other caliere. Often he and 1 Alien met at Mrs. Owen’s and defcated thè questtons that were forever perplexing young Thatcher’s eager mlnd,—debates that Mrs. Owen suffered to run so far and then termlnated wlth a keen observatlon that left no more to be said, sendlng them to thè pantry to foràge for food and drink. A few days aster thè election Thatcher invlted Harwood to join him and Alien in a week’s shooting In thè Kankakee, where he owned a houseboat that Alien had ne ver seen. “Come up, Dan, and rest your voice. It’s a good place to loaf, and we’ll ' take John Ware along- as our moral uplifter. Mavbe we’ll pot a few ducks. but lf we don’t we’ll get away from our troubles for a little while anvhow.” The house-boat proved to be commodlous and comfortable, and thè ducks scarce enough to malte thè hunter earn hls supper. I may say In parenthesis that long before Thatcher’s day many greàt and go*d . Hooslers scattered blrdshot over thè Kankakee marshes —whlch, alack! have been dralned tó lncrease Indiana’s total area of arable soli. “Lew" Wallace and other Hoosier generals and Judges uè ed to hunt ducks on thè Kankakee, and Maurice Thompson not only camped there, but wrote a poem about thè marshes, —a poem that ls a poem,—all about thè bittem and. thè piover and thè heron, whlch.al- ► wavs, at thè rlght season, called hlm , away from thè desk and thè town to f try hls bow (he was thè last or thè - toxophllltesf) on wlnged thlngs he soomed to destroy with gunpowder. John Ware, an ancient and honorable son of thè tribe of Nimrod, * was thè best of comrades. The strik"lng quallty In Ware was hls beautiful - humanness, whlch had given him a peculiar hold upon men. Thatcher ; was far from belng a salnt, but, like 4 many other cheerful sinners In our Scapitai, he had gone to church In thè when Ware occupied thè First Congregation&l pulplt. On Sunday Ware tramped off to e *nntry church. taklng hi com-
panlons wlth him. It was too bad to miss thè ducks, he said, but a day’s peace in thè marshes gave them a chance to accumulate. That evening he talked of Emerson, with whom he 1-ad spoken faceto face In Concord in that whitest of houses. When Ware had described his interview with thè poet he was sileni for a moment, then he refilled his pipe. “It’s odd,” he continued, *’but l’ve pìcked up copie of Emerson’s books in queer places. Not so strange either; it seems thè naturai thlng to flnd loose pages on hls essays around in old logging-camps. I did just that once, when I was following Thoreau’e trall through thè Maine woods. Some fellow had plnned a page of ’Compensatlon’ on thè door of a cabln I struck one night when lt was mlghty good to flnd shelter,—thè pines slnging, snowstorm ooming on. That leaf waa pretty well weather-stalned; 7 carrled lt off wlth me and had lt framed—hangs In my house now. Another time I was dolng California on horseback, and In an abandoned shack In thè Sierra I sound Emerson’s Toems’—and old copy that somebody had thumbed a good deal. I poked it out of some rubblsh and carne near maklng a Are of lt. Left it, though, for thè next fellow. I'va noticed that lf one thlng like that happens to you there’s bound to be another. la that superstltlon, Thatcher? I’m nqf. superstltious,—not partlcularly,—but we’ve all got some of it In our hides. Aster that seoond time—lt was away back In thè soventies, when I was preaching for a speli in ’FYisco—l kept looktng for thè thlrd experience that I felt would come.” “Oh, of course lt did come!” cried Alien eager ly. “Well, that thlrd time lt wasnt a loose leaf tom crut and stuck on a plank, or Just an old weather-stalned hook; lt was a copy that had been specially bound—a rare piece of work. I don’t care partlcularly for fine blndlngs, but that had been done wlth taste,*—a dark green,—thè color you get iooking aerosa thè top of a pine wood; and lt seenaed appropriate. Emerlson would have liked it hlm self.” The sheet-lron stove had grown red hot and Harwood flung upon thè door. The glow from thè Are fell full upon thè dark, rugged face and thè wlilte halr of thè minlster, who was sltting on a soap box wlth hls elbows on hls knees. In a gray flannel shirt he looked llke a lumberman of thè North. An unusual tenderness had stolen lnto hls lean, Indlan-like face. “Tha* was a long while aster that ride In thè SWrjj. Let me eee, lt was more than twenty years ago,—l <-ah’t Just place thè year; no dtf ference. T d gone up lnto thè Adlrondacks to eee my folks. I told you about our farm once, Alien.—not far from John Brown’s old place. My folks were all gone even then, and ■frangere llved In my father’s house FYom thè old place I move along, walìdng and canoelng it. Stopped on Saturday In a settlement where there was a church that hadn’t been preached In slnce anybody could re member. Preached for ’em on Sunday. An old Indian''died. while I was there, and I baptlzed and burled hlm. But that wasn't what kept me. There was a young woman staying at thè smalt boardlng-house where I stopped—place run by a man and hls wlfo. Stranger had brought her there early In thè eummer. City people—they told thè folks they carne from New York. They were young, wellappearing folks—at least thè girl waa The man had gone off and lex’t her there, and she was golng to have a chlld soon and was .terribly 11L They called me In one day when they thought thè woman was dylng. The country doctor wasn’t much good—an old fellow who dldn't know that anything partlcular hai happened in hls profeaslon slnce Harvey diseovered thè clrculatlon of thè blood. I etruck off to Saranac and got a cUy doctor to go and look at thè woman. Nlce chap he was, too. He stayed there till thè woman ’s troubles were over. Daughter bom amd everythln* all right. She never mentloned thè man who had left her there, ’Wouldn’t anewer thè doctor’s questiona and dldn’t teli me anythlng. either. Strnnge business, just to drop in on a thlng llke that.” It occurred to Harwood that thls big, gray, klndly man had probably looked upon many dark plcturea In hls llfe. The minlster appeared to he talklng half to hlmself, and therè had been abrupt pauses In hls characterlstlcally Jerky recital. There was a long Bilenco whlch he broke by strlklng hls hands together abruptly, and shaklng hts head. “The man that kept thè boardlnghouse was scared for fear thè woman wasn’t straight; dldn't llke thè Idea of having a strange girl wlth a baby left on his hands. I had to reaaon some wlth that fellow; but hls wlfe was all rlght, and did her full duty by thè girl. She was a mlghty pretty young girl, and she took her troubles, whatever they were, llke what you'd cali a trae sport, Ed.” Thatcher, stretched out on a camp bed at thè side of thè room, chewlng a elgar, grunted. “Well,” thè minlster continued, “I was around there about three weeks; put In all my vacation there. Fact is I hated to go off and leave that girl until I was sure I couldn’t do anythlng for her, But she was gettlng out of thè woods before I left, and 1 offerea to help her any way I could. She didn’t seem to lack for money; a couple of lettera wlth money carne for her, but didn’t seem to cheer her much. There was a beast In thè jungle—no doubt of that—but she was taklng good care to hide hlm. Dldn't seem r.o care much about taklng Care of herself, even when she must "have knowu that it looked bad for her. She was a fUghty, volatile sort of creature; made a lot Of jvhat I’d done for her In brìnging over thè doctor. That doctor was a brick, too. Lots of good people In thè world, boys. Let me se©; Dan, feel In that shooting-coat of mine on thè nail behlnd you and you’ll flnd thè book I started to teli you about. Thanks. You see it’s a little fcanged up because I’ve carrled it around with me a good deal—fishlngtrips and so on; but it’s acquired tone since I began handling'lt—thè green in that leather has darkened. ‘Society and ifeolitude.’ There’s thè irony of fateSor you.—Where had I gotto?
DOINGS OF THE DUFFS—
BET VoiriL BE GLAD \ /VES,HELEN -1 SEE - GET \ t TO GET PADOV’S CHRISTKIA3 PRESEMI* ”1 / V/HEN VOO GET IW VoORL } '' > VOUR BANK BOOK OUT OF THE FOUHD Nv .-, n . . f AND ) WAMT VOU TO BE J 'vf kH J ) NEVI HOMB - HAVE A BIG \ ( TOP DRAWER OP VOOR DESK nnS /*T • VOU HAVE. A f GOOD BOV ANO MIMO OLIVI( VaRD TO PLAV IM - MAVB ) ) AND SEE WHAT VOUR. BALANCE f ? / “ > BALANCE OF NIMETT** \ A J/ fW lOR I VJON’T TAKE VOU GET HIM / A NEW POOM TO ©LCEP ) |— J | SEE~VoU WANT TO ■/ ? I (eÌ Li 6EVEW AMD |J Jf, TO SEE OUR-MEW HOME-// A NICEOME, .M - H AVE A LOT OF NlCft j | JL FIMO OOT HOW MUCH VOO )K? P’/tPUI 6DLT7 CEMT3v aPEMDTT l WELE % acvsAMOGiRLS-mPLAV f * Hli have im TXEBANii- J 'IV IJI 1 T Allow nmorth / IJI
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THLM DA YS IS GONE FORIWER—
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When I went in to say good-by we had quite a talk. I thought maybe there was some message I could carry to her friends for her, but she was game and wouldn’t hear to lt. She wanted thè little girl baptized, but said she hadn’t decided what to name her; asked me lf I could baptlze a baby without having a reai name. She was terribly cut up and cried about it. I Baid I guessed God Almighty didn't
OUT OUR WAY —By WILLIAMS
THE OLD HOME TOWN—By STANLEY
care much about nomea, and lf she hadn’t decided on one I’d name thè baby ruyself and I did: I named thè little girl—and a mlghty cute youngster sixo was, too—l named her Elizabeth —favorite name of mine—'just thè mother, lying there in bed, and thè man and woman that kept thè board-ing-house in thè room. The mother said she wanted to do somethlng for me; and as jV was leaving her sho
THE USTDIANAPOLIS TIMES
“TJndsmeath The Stars”
pulled thls book out and made me take lt.” “L suppose it was a favorite book of hers and all that,” suggested Dan. ■T-*don’t think anybody had ever cpened that book,” replled Ware, smiling. “It was brand-new—not a scrateh on lt.” “And afterward?” asked Alien, anxlous for thè rest of thè story. “Well, slr, I passed through there
Helen Ooes thè Limit
tour years afterward and sound thè same people livlngr in thè little cottage there at that settlement. Strange to say, that woman had stayed there a couple of years aster thè baby was born. Hadn’t any place to go, I reckon. Nobody ever went near her, they said; but flnally she picked up and left; took thè baby with her. She had never beenj well afterward, and finally, seeing epe hadn’t lori* to Ilvo,
FRECXLES AND HIS FRIENDS—By BLOSSER
OUB BOAkDLN’O HOUSE—By AHEBN
she struck out for home. Wanted to die among her own people, maybe. I don’t know thè rest of thè story, Alien. What I’ve told you is all I know, —It’s like finding a magozine in a country hotel where you haven’t anything to read and dipinto thè middle of a serial story. I never told anybody about that but my wlfe. I had a feeling that if that woman took such pains to bury herself up there in
DEC. 22, 1922
—By ALLMAN
—Bv AL POSEN
thè wilderness it wasn’t my businaM to speak of it. But it’s long ago now —most everything that an cld chap like me knows is!” Thatcher rose and orossed to thè sto ve and took thè book. He turned it over and scrutinized it oarefully, scanned thè blank pages and thè sllki aced lids In thè glow from thè stove, and then handed it. to Alleri. (To Be Continued)