Page 79 - 1923 Hartridge

Page 73
Clinton here done gone ter sleep right heah by ma side; I’se wonderin’ how he keep so still when I warn’t telhn’ him no ghost story or sumpin’.”
^ ery well, Mammy, hut please take him in right away. He may catch cold in this damp evening air, you know. And Mammy, please light
the candles in half an hour. 1 here, take the child in your arms and try
not to awaken him. Good-night, precious one,” she breathed this last into his soft curls as she bent over to kiss him.
The shadows of dusk had crept over the stillness of the garden. The moon, just riding into view, seemed to make a lattice-work pattern through the darkness. Some of its pale shimmering beams fell across a figure of a
young woman dressed in illusive white. She was seated alone under a
willow tree in one corner of the garden. 1 he still air was heavy with the
perfume of summer roses and lilac, and a gentle wind seemed to whisper
through the branches of the trees. I he moon was slowly rising higher and higher into the heavens.
The brilliant candle-lighted house, with no apparent life, seemed almost incongruous to the sombreness of this night, d'his great house was a lost dream and the maker of dreams was seated alone in a corner of the
garden. Her heart had been buried nine years before; her life was asleep in that fragment of a home.
The moon rose higher in the sky, the blazdng candles in the great
house had burned low, a restless child turned over in his sleep, a dreamer of dreams walked slowly down a garden path.
Ifi.iZABETii E m b r y , ’23.
Clockwork
(Or Timely Thoiighis from the Acorn.) Is it morning? We awaken
At a grim five forty-five. Ah, Big Ben’s again mistaken !
By caprices does he thrive.
No
Is more eager for the sun.
farm rooster with his crowing
Or
What is his idea of fun?
is Benny simply showing