Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 34, Number 341, 16 October 1909 — Page 6

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IF any of the neighboring farmers' wives had happened into Alice Landon's kitchen that bright May morniiig, they would have remarked with amiable suggestion, " Rather late with your breakfast dishes, ain't you ? " And Alice would have laughed before she answered. She usually laughed first and spoke afterward. The young joy of life touched her radiantly; she responded like a child to the thrill of the untranslated emotion, and interpreted it later. But the white farmhouse at the end of the line of arching maple trees was half a mile from a neighbor, and no one was likely to discover her housekeeping

vagaries. It had been such a good morning! 5ne smiled a little dimpling smile as she poured the scalding water from one milk can to another with a deft tur while the rising cloud of steam dampened the tendnla of blonde hair blown about her forehead by the beeze from the open door. Robert had done the churning out on the broad back porch before he went to the field. He would never let her do it, though she was quite sure she was strong enough. A year ago, when she had first entered upon her new existence as a farmer's wife, the metamorIihosii of a can of cream into a mass of crumbling yelow butter had been interesting to the point of excitement. Robert had wanted to sell two of the cows, but she had begged to keep them. Why could not she learn to make butter? He could take it to Milburn, and the money would buy she would show him what the money wou'.l buy. " A regular little farmer," Robert had laughingly called her, saying that he believed she liked the country all the better fcr having always lived in town. Of course she did; she had known it would be that way. She had added that she would have liked South Africa or Alaska but he had not let her finish the erttence. So this morning she had chosen to work her butter out on the porch, packing it away, sweet and firm in the little brown jars, while the morning coolness wa3 still In the air. As she patted and squeezed the golden mass, the breeze came spiced with the blossoming plum trees and the smell of the freshening earth. The tangled network of the grapevine that grew at the end of the porch was dotted with buds of misty green, tipped and veined with rose. A wren had hopped up on the lowest step, a fluttering feathered ball of joy, and had taken her into his confidence with one gush of song, then flown away to help his mate, who was busily filling the pump with twigs. Foolish little things 1 They should have a better place to build as soon as she could get the butter out of the way. Although she could not have put it into words, she felt herself at one with all nest-building creatures. She was a part of this vibrating harmony of color and perfume and song. When she went down into the cool gloom of the cellar with the butter jars, she rummaged out an old starch box from a pile provided for future needs, and with saw and hammer, borrowed from the barn, set to work to make it habitable. She was not a skilful carpenter, and the nails came through at unexpected places; indeed, some of them only went in half their length and then turned over ; but they held rather better that way, so it did not matter. She surveyed the result with an air of amused satisfaction; and when, standing on a chair to reach, she had nailed the box to a limb of the old apple tree, she thought it looked quite homelike. A branch of blossoms drooping across the front hid all defects. Robert would laugh when he saw it. The wrens were still flitting in and out of the pump with misdirected zeal; so she stuffed a cloth into the seductive spout, while the birds chattered madly, as weak little creatures sometimes will when a higher intelligence is steering them away from danger. And then the apple blossoms had been so pink and white and dewy, that she had broken off a great armful and crowded them into a jar in a corner of the dining-room, just where Robert could see them while he ate his dinner. All this had made the dishwashing late. As she set the milk cans on the porch, a shining row in the sun, she stopped to watch the wrens again. She was not unlike them small and slight, with quick ways and bright brown eyes. She gave a little nod of satisfaction when she saw that the birds were investigating the possibilities of the starch box. One of them perched on the top and trilled his brief burst of melody with tremulous wings. Alice regarded him with soft eyes. He knew what hope was, and companionship, and the making of home together. She looked at the pump, with a wisp of cloth trailing from its spout, as at a vanquished destroyer of domestic felicity, and went back to her dishes. When they were finished she glanced at the clock ; the mail carrier must have passed by this time. It made one of the events of her day to go down the long lane under the maples and unlock the mail-box on the post of the big red gate. She ran part of the way, her pink dress fluttering about her ankles ; but she came back slowly, her head bent over a letter, the swiftly alternating sun and shadow passing like ripples over her bright hair. As she slipped the letter back into its envelope, she . stood still a moment, looking out over the plowed fields, where the warm brown earth lay mellowing in the sun. Then she gave a little decisive skip, and, running along the soft, scant grass at the side of the lane, she entered her kitchen flushed and breathless. When the team, their heavy harness creaking and the lines thrown over the hames, came plodding across the pasture to the watering-trough by the barn, Alice stood in the door ; dinner was ready. Robert, following some distance behind the horses, waved his broad straw hat, and then strode on, swinging it by his side. How tall and strong he was 1 She could see the crisp curve of his black hair and the whiteness of his forehead above the line of tan. She set the dinner on the table, then ran out to meet him as he came from the barn. "Oh, Robert, the nicest thing!" she cried, catching his hand and trying to suit her step to his long stride. "Of course you are." "No, I'm not I mean, I know I am; but there are more nice things. Oh, look at my bird house ! " Robert stopped short in the path and surveyed it critically. Sticks projected from the opening at all angles; the wrens whisked in and out; they had already proved their title." "Birds seem to like it; I guess that's all thars necessary," remarked Robert "But as for it's bein' the nicest thing" His gray eyes were teasing. "You shan't know about it until you're ready for dinner; it's all settled, anyway, and the small pink figure ran ahead of him and disappeared through the dining-room door. When Robert came in she was pouring the coffee. " Whew ! " as he saw the spreading branches of apple blossoms; "regular little orchard in here. Ain't they pretty? I believe they're fuller this year than common. ' "What do they remind you of?" Alice asked as she gave him his coffee. Apple pie," he answered sententiously, with just the hint of a quiver at the corner of his mouth. "Robert!" Alice tried to look severe. "Have you forgotten what day it is next Thursday? It's our anniversary. I have been wondering what we could do. I want it to be different from any other day altogether different." Robert leaned back in his chair, smiling at her; his

eyes smiled more than his mouth ; he spoke deliberately. " I don't know as I do. These have been about the best days I've ever had." The pink in his wife's cheeks deepened and spread. "It's been a beautiful year. That's why I think we ought to do something very special. And I had a letter from mother to-day ; she wants us to come home for our anniversary. She's going to have Tom and Grace, and as many of the people that were there at the wedding as she can. She'd have written about it before, only Mary's been sick "and she didn't know whether she could do it."

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SHE NAILED THE BOX Robert looked suddenly serious. "Now, Rob, dont you think it would be the very nicest thing we could do ? Just like being married all over again. Besides, I want to." Still Robert looked perplexed; his wife waited; at last he said : " Honestly, I don't see how we can, Allie." "Oh, I've got it all planned. We can go the night before and come back the morning after. It makes it just right, since they put on that early train. You can get Joe Davis to do the chores. YouH never know you've been away." "If 'twas any other time o' year, Allie Robert stopped a minute" No, I don't see how we can. I've got to get that south piece o' corn in. I'll have the ground ready Wednesday noon if the weather holds good. If I don't use the planter before Davis is ready I'll have to wait till he's through, an he's slowern time. Besides, it might rain. You don't mind, honestly? He looked at his wife with a troubled darkening of his gray eyes; she was pouring a glass of water and it ran over. Robert got up and came around the table. "I've got to go now." He took her face between his firm brown hands and turned it to the light, " Come look up here! You know you're a farmer's wife; you'd rather get the corn planted than anything else. As soon as it s all done you can go home and stay a

week. I shan't have so much on hand then, and I can get along alone. You ain't homesick ? " "Rob Landon!" Alice was on hr feet with her hands upon his shoulders, all her loyalty shining in her eyes. " You know I've never been homesick a minute, not a minute. I like farming and farmers and corn planting; I do!" Her eyes were getting suspiciously bright. Robert bent and kissed her and stopped the outburst. . " I must go now. I know vou ain t gom to mind. No, she didn't mind. She was already clearing the table when she heard the kitchen screen shut and Rob-

TO A LIMB OF THE OLD APPLE TEEE AND THOUGHT IT

ert take two steps across the porch. Her heart gave a little leap of fealty. What need had they of anniversaries ; every day was an anniversary. She would rather hear those two steps! then she worked very fast, and the kitchen was all in order before the line of sun across the porch was perceptibly aslant The housework took such a little while for only two ! Alice went into the small parlor and dusted everything painstakingly. She had never cared much for this room ; it had not the homely feeling that the others had. She knew why, though she hardly admitted the thought; she missed the piano. As a girl, she had gone to the piano as to an interpreter of all her moods. Sbe played only the simplest music, and often she wandered off into fancies of her own ; much of the time she played by ear; but when any feeling, either of joy or of unrest, needed expression, she played. When she married, the piano had been left for the younger sister. It almost vexed her that she thought of it so often. It was not good for her to be in the house on a day like this. She put up her duster, took up her sewing, and went out under the apple trees. The afternoon was long ; Robert was harrowing the south field, and the son was setting before he followed the horses up to the watering-trough. When he brought in the milk, frothing to the top of the pails, he said: " Guess I won't eat any supper till I get COPYXIGBT-

the chores all done. I'm tired to-night." They ate in the dusk, the soft, damp air coming in at the open windows; after a while Robert said: "Makes me think o" the evenin's I used to go and see you that summer you was visitin at the Tolman place. The parlor windows was always open, an you'd slip in an' play while the rest of us set on the porch. Ole Mr. Tolman kep right on tellin' his stories, but I never heard 'em." Alice laughed. "Yes, and isn't it funny when you think about it. that if I hadn't happened to visit Grace Tolman, and she hadn't happened to be engaged to Tom Gray, and you hadn't been Tom's best friend "

LOOKED QUITE HOMELIKE. "Don't!" This time it was Alice who came around the table. "Why, Rob!" Robert laughed, but he put his arms about her. " Nothin', nothin' at all ; only it didn't happen that way; it happened this way." The content in his voice was good to hear. Alice recalled it again just before she went to sleep that night, and smiled happily to herself in the dark. The following day was palpitant with the first real heat of the summer. "All ready for plantin', Robert announced when he came to dinner. "Never saw the ground work better; that south field's smooth as a dancin' floor; corn'll be up in a week if it keeps like this." He ate his dinner quickly and was gone. Alice sat a long time at the table. When she finally went mto the kitchen with a pile of dishes she could hear the steady dick, click of the planter in the south field. She went to the kitchen door and looked off across the pasture to the great brown square that in a few weeks would be an expanse of wavering, whispering green. A faint blue haze brooded over the surface ; she could see the line of the planter wire where it caught the sun ; the team was going south, and ber husband's shirt-sleeved figure was indistinct. Another long warm afternoon, and a man who came tired to supper and went silent to bed.

But it was good to be up early the next morning, their anniversary morning, in the scented coolness ; and while the cast was yet rosy from the sunrise, Robert and his wife came up the path to the house together; she had been to the barn to call him to breakfast The air was quite still, with that marvellous hush that seems to listen for a change. Each spear of grass poised on its tip a motionless dfop of dew. As the two passed under the apple tree, an oriole with a rollicking ' warble, plunged downward and through the branches like a meteor, shaking over them a shower of wet petals: then he was off across the yard a flash of orange and lack- .. ... - Oh, Robert look at him look I " Yes, dear," but Robert looked up at the sky instead, where white fluffs of cloud swam across the blue. " It'll rain to-morrow, if it don't 'fore night, but the corn'll be in all ready for h." Breakfast was brief, and the click of the planter bepan again. Somehow the constant reiteration irritated Alice. It ticked an accompaniment to the washing of the dishes; it checked off the sweeping of the floor. "Nonsense!" said Alice, aloud, as she hung op the broom with decision; then she went to the door and looked over to the south field. The sun was growing hot; the horses plodded steadily, with lowered heads; a cloud of brown dust wavered un from their heavy hoofs, almost enveloping planter and man. The significance of that solitary figure struck her suddenly with a thrill like pain. She knew in one white moment the emptiness of the symbol and the fulness of the truth. Robert uas keeping their anniversary. Along the lane at the side of the house came a hoy on a leisurely pony. " Mr. Landon to home? " he called as he saw her. " Over there," she guided him with her hand. " You can ride through the pasture if you want to." She watched him across the green stretch until he stopped at the fence and waited; then she went back to ber work. When Robert came at noon she asked him about it "What did the boy want? I sent him over there." "Oh, just a little matter about that horse, you know. I'm goin' to town after dinner. You better ret ready and go along. I'll take you up to Davis's an stop for you on the way back. It's only a little off the road. You dont want to go clear to town in the lumber wagon, an' you've been stayin home too much." "What! before the corn's done 1 " Alice looked her amazement ... Robert's laugh was boyish. The com s goin to get done all right Joe Davis is comin over with his team an' finish. I've got to get a load, and it's goin' to rain to-morrow." When he helped her up on the high seat of the farm wagon and sprang in beside her, she looked at him with a sudden joy. I believe I'd luce to go all the way to town. Why net?" "Oh, I guess I wouldn't; this wagon rides too hard. Besides, I told Mrs. Davis you was comin' when I went over to get Joe. She'll be expect in' you." Mrs. Davis had the comfortable poise of m woman who fitted her particular niche to the satisfaction of herself and everybody concerned. She was what the neighbors called capable; Davis' was not; but that only gave his wife an opportunity to exercise her talent for managing. Not that she was meddling or dictatorial; she never made a fuss it was a waste of energy. She carried her small world steadily on its way with the quiet restlessness of an elemental force. Alice liked to be with her; she gained store of strength thereby. But this afternoon she was covertly listening for the rumble of Rol rts waon long before it was time to expert him. Mrs. Davis had anarly supper for themselves and the children, but still Robert did not come. Alice was undisguisedly anxious. It was sunset when he drove into the yard in the buggy. Alice ran out in surprise. " Why, what's the matter? Where's the wagon? Did you break down ? " " Nothin at all the matter. Run get your hat It got so late I thought I'd go home first an' do the chores an' let you have your visit out" ( "Look at those clouds," he said, as they turned into the main road and fared the west, where the sun was going down in a billowing mass of purple thunder "heads; "there'll be rain to-morrow." The rolling fields were blue-green in the half-light The birds flew low with swift dartlings, in pursuit of invisible inserts. The sorrel colt drew them swiftly, with a smooth roll of wheels over the level road. Alice was dreamily content She slipped her hand under Robert's arm and he smiled down at her. " You haven't had your supper," she said with sudden concern. ... - "Yes, I have. I got a lunch before I hitched up. I knew you'd have yours." When they drove up to the barn she stayed m the buggy while Robert slipped the harness from the sorrel and let him through the pasture gate. As they went into the kitchen her husband put his arm around her and drew her with him to the parlor door. " Come in here a minute." She glanced up at him, half startled at the oddness of his tone. He crossed the room, and, rolling up the shade, turned and looked at her, as she paused in the door. A shining bulk filled one comer of the little parlor. In the fading light it gleamed wine-red, cut across by the white row of keys. Alice stood quite still, while her eyes widened and the color left her face. Then she swept across the floor like a whirlwind, and Robert gathered her up in a perfect storm of tears. "Whv, why, why!" He was really distressed. "I didn't s''pose you'd take it that way." His own voice was a trifle unsteady. "Wouldn't you rather hare it than anything else? Trt thought about it erer since j we was married." . . . . ... ' "Oh, I would I would I It isn't that It's just, somehow yoI" ... . . When she was quieter, Robert smoothed her hair back and said gently: "Ain't yon goin' to try it? Twould seem good to bear you play again the way yon used to."

She hid her face in his arm with a swift turn. "YouH understand if just to-night I don't even touch it? Jfs beautiful, and I love it love it! but just tonight? I want to shut it up in here and go out on the porch." She drew him after her. He followed, amumg. and closed the door. The rain-soft air wrapped them in a gust of fragrance as they came out on the porch. They sat down on the top step. The blooming fruit trees shone pale in the dusk. From somewhere came the soft, quivering err of an owL The wren in ber box on the apple branch chirped uneasily, and her mate from bis nearby twiff answered with a sleepy twitter. Finally Robert said slowly: ... " It didn't seem just right not to do what you wanted to. but I'd been planain' this ever since we was married. I knew you'd miss your piano. I was afraid rt wooldnt seem quite the same if you had it any other day. And then, it didn't come as soon as Haynes " Alice stopped bim. . , "Please I don't want to know; only could we afford it?" Robert laughed very tenderly. "I guess so. Besides. H wouldn't mean so. much if we really cowJ would it? Anyhow, that crop o' cornTl pay for at."

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