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Show (' i' I ill lii, "" ' " II i 1 i -Jj mi imi n , r-,- . j ' : " y ; '4 orval Richardson -M per just for mc "I love you very much. You arc so lig, and quiet and peaceful." Tlicre were other children, many of them, but they iverc thoughtless and treated me badly My doors were slammed until I was sadly in need of new hinges, and my nice smooth paint was scratched and mutilated, and my fine hardwood floors, which had been the pride of my youth, were bcond recognition. Each year marked the decay of sonic part, until I reached the indignity of becoming a rented house. My decrepitude brought only the poorer classes people peo-ple with no thoughtfulncss or thrift. They believed m damp blew into their faces and smote them with a musty ' cdor. "Tell the coachman to bring ;s one of hta lamp?," I heard the woman sav, and she waited silently in the darkness until the man returned with the light. It was then that my ruin and desolation became evident to them. I saw her put her hands up to her face and cover her eyes as if some deep pain had suddenly taken possession of her. Eut he moved about with a firm tread and made the staring coaenman bring some old, rotted palings from the fence, and start a feeble blaze in my old, cracked chimney. Soon the fire crackled and a bright I WAS a one-story house, built of rough stones, with wide overhanging caves and quaint leaded class windows. The target part if me wa the hall, where a huge fireplace of rough bricks, and a floor of ! red tilc, and a ceiling of lnv weathered rafters gac me full opportunity to express the spirit of cordiality. From this hall two steps led down into the dining-1 dining-1 room, and beyond was the enclosed veranda, where one I could look out upon the gently sloping hills and quiet, tiMiiiiful country. Towards the back of the house was a wing which l formed a cozy library and bedrooms. But what I loved ' btvt was my side which faced the garden, where in the enrly spring I could see the crocus peeping out amid tlie still brown grass; then would come the jonquils, afterward the spirea and roses; then the hollyhocks and poppies and larkspurs, followed by the August golden glow, and, last of all, chrysanthemums. My acquaintance with them began when I was just commencing to grow and lift myself up enough to take notice. They would come out in the late afternoons, when he had finished his work, and stand side by side, praising C3ch of my parts, and rectifying any mistake.' What first gained my love for them was the strong foundation upon which they placed me, for when it stormed and the wind blew and the thunder made mc tremble, I could settle myself down upon the strong underground walls, and brace myself just as a man does in a heavy pair of boots. This is a great comfort to a house that stands on the crest of a hill, exposed to a!! kinds of weather and strong winds, as I did It was in the early autumn when I wai cr.tircly completed, com-pleted, and they came to live with mc. How well I remember itl It was one of those bluc-sray afternoons after-noons when the smoke hangs low and everything seems mellowed by indistinctness. All day furniture and packages had been coming out, so that when they came I here was much to do to get me into a semblance of order. They ran from room to room, admiring and pat-ling pat-ling my white enameled doors, treading softly upon my hardwood floors. " lok, dear, how beautiful this old settle is, beside the fireplace. It looks as if it had already been here an hundred years," she would say to him, and he would .-uiswcr, " Eut have you seen the sunset from the library window?" and together they would walk, hand in hand, from one room to another, then back again, as. if it were always new. The clock had chimed twelve that night before they could settle down to a moment of quiet and rest. He had thrown some logs into my huge fireplace, and when 1 drew the blaze up the chimney with a roar she clapped her hands together and laughed, and then suddenly became very quiet, and I snw two tears roll down her checks. ' least uneasiness, not even a crack in my plaster to mar my perfection. A vain house was I, I must admit, but it was the vanity that comes with the satisfaction of knowing that I made them happy, tor it seemed to me that that was all for which I was built Then, they were so young, and full of life and joy; how could I do otherwise other-wise than reflect their happiness? The days were too short that winter; even the long evenings, that began at five and ended at eleven, seemed ' hardly long enough for us to do and say all that we desired. de-sired. It was when they sat upon the settle before the glowing logs, gradually falling under the spell of the warmth and glow, that I found out that I could talk to them and make them understand. It was she who first heard my yoicc: "Listen, listen quick, dear; can't you hear the fire roaring up the chimney? chim-ney? It is talking to us. It is saying: 'East or West, Home's best.' Listen, it is singing now. Now, it is telling us that it is a haven, the place of peace and rest, the port from all storms. That is what we shall call it, dear 'Haven.' " So it was that I was named. Afterwards, they would listen to me every evening as I talked to them, and always al-ways it was she who understood mc best. . . . The winter fled and spring came gently on. It was then that they began the garden which was to be my pleasure. He would work there, spading and digging, while she planted and watered the flowers. How impatiently we watched for the plants to spring up into life! I recall one night she awakened, and, remembering re-membering the roses had not been watered, she went out into the moonlit garden and sprinkled them, most carefully. As summer came on, she grew into the habit of sitting sit-ting for the greater part of the day under the shadow of an old tree, one that was there long before I was even thought of. She would go there directly after breakfast, ' sewing all the time upon the tiniest garments, for -which I could make out no real use. Yet she kept on diligently dili-gently until a very large basket was completely filled with these funny little doll clothes. Then, one morning, I found him climbing up the steps which led into my garret, and calling back to a white-gowned nurse that a baby must always be carried up first to give it luck, . . . Those were quite the happiest days that I was to know. The baby grew into a beautiful boy, and he played with mc as I had never known how to play before. Rainy days he spent the hours in my attic, ransacking every corner and finding out all my secrets secrets I was very willing for him to know, for it strengthened the bond between us and made me feel that my claim upon him would last as long as I lived. With these treasures in my care, my confidence in myself grew until I began to think that I was the only 'A-Z v;-.6r J: Aijr . Sr;-? 'Wi-K-'-fi t-- kH.;'v--- ly- "''' back in a grove of trees. It looked very aged and sadly i in need of paint, yet about it was an air of comfort and 1 solidity. " Vain boaster," it called to me, " it is all very well to be proud of your beauty. You are young now; you 1 talk of the spirit of love and beauty, but that is only : the beginning. I have had that, too, and something i still greater, for I have seen the depths of suffering, and i know that the only real nobility comes when one has i passed through these shadows, and can still hold himself 1 erect and smiling." 1 At this I only laughed, for I knew that old houses always grumbled. j It was in midsummer when one evening he was late in returning home. She was waiting for him in the garden. When he came I read in his face that a great trouble had fallen upon them. He whispered the words to her gently, and afterward she wept through that long, miserable night, A week later they locked the door and walked away, the child between them. At the crest of the hill she stopped and looked back at me longingly; her eyes embraced mc in their great love, and I heard her murmur, " Don't forget us, dear, dear Haven. We are coming back some day." Then was I alone, so utterly alone, with my blinds closed tight, and my rooms darkened so that the walls began to mold, and the smooth, glassy floors were deep with dust. But this was as nothing to me in my grief over their departure, I felt that I was deserted and left to the mercy of those who thought me worthy to be bought Each morning as I bathed my gables in the early sun, I would glow with the hope that perhaps that day they might return, but as the lonely shadows of the tw ilight clustered about me, I knew it was not to be. In my grief and loneliness I believe I aged more in . those few months that I was empty than in the many years spent with thrm, 'At the Vnd of three dreary . months, I was awakened from my lethargy by the sound of a heavy carriage rolling up to my gate. The jangling of the chains, the restless prancing of the horses, the smart glitter of th carnage all told me that the newcomers new-comers were rich They were accompanied by the-heartless the-heartless man who had bought me, and as he unlocked the door and showed the strangers in, one ray of happiness happi-ness passed over mc the hope that I might pass from his hands forever. The two women they were mother and daughter, I learned, when I had come to know them held their dainty gowns high as thev stepped lightly over my dusty floors and criticized mc dctiil by detail. "A brick floor how absurd, mamal We must have a wood floor laid here at once. And how plain the walls are! They will have to be papered. And all this white woodwork is so tiresome, but we can have it stained mahogany. Yes, I believe we can make it presentable pre-sentable by spending money. Papa, do send for a decorator deco-rator at once." Finally they took possession of me, and with them came a horde of workmen. I reverberated vith hammering, ham-mering, my walls were hung with heavy, dust-catching cloths ; massive, unsuitable furniture was crammed all over me, until I felt that I was myself no longer that another house stood in my place. When all this was done, I rang with the sound of music, of laughter, of endless frivolities. There was no peace nor quiet self-communion self-communion left me any longer. All was hubbub and careless merriment. Thus I lived for a decade. There were alternate periods of rest when the daughter and mother would leave on their tours and visits. At such times I felt almost happy again and the old man, the husband and father, almost won his way into my heart by his loneliness loneli-ness and homclcssncss. In a way he represented something some-thing similar to myself, for at heart he craved a real -home, and yet was continually forced to live in what was nothing but a thin imitation. But the friendship lctwccn us never grew, for he did not know how to begin be-gin to love me, and, before he learned, the daughter was married, and they moved away. Again I found myself alone. Years and years of solitude stretching out into an eternity of dreariness. An endless changing of fare and forms, seme remaining with mc for several years others only a few months. Some of them were sweet children, one particularly a little ghl with soft, brown hair and gentle eyes, who sat in my garden on summer afternoons, reading fairy talcs and naming the flowers , after her many dream friends. She seemed to feel my i presence in such moments, and the only happy experience experi-ence in the desert of ray years and even that moment was the happincti of sorrow when they took her : away. The others were calliiT her to follow them and she slipped out into the garden- be fore leavinp, and laid - -: her head against the big door, kissing the broad panel 1 which the weather had blistered and cracked. "Good-bye, old house," she said very softly a whis- 1 COPYRIGHT, tr. Mn'l f iifiVin i n i i i I i r i .in i " don't you remember,' we callkd it ' haven' t treating me with contempt, using each part of me as suited their purposes best, defacing mc, ruining me. .An old hollyhock in the garden was my timekeeper. Despite all changes, each spring would see it struggle up through the rampant grass, lifting its stalks of pure white blossoms high; then gradually wilting and dying thus did I know another year had been added to my age. Thirty-seven years had I counted in this way since they left me thirty-seven year.? w ithout the sound of their voices, without the look of their affectionate eyes. At last the end was near at hand I felt it in every part of mc, My strong uprights would tremble now when the wind blew; I felt certain that I could not resist another long winter. I had been alone for months even the poorest would not consider - me any longer, and oftentimes people would go by in the late night and shudder when they looked at me, saying that I was haunted: that ghosts lived within my walls. And they were right ghosts did live within mc the ghosts and memories of that long procession which had marched through me with the-parsing the-parsing year. Ami then there came a calm, cold night. The wind had died down into the golden December mist, and the clouds hurried across the sky, only half obscuring the moon. It was a lonely night, and I felt a great passionate passion-ate need for lights and fire within me. I whispered over and over to myself; I was to die alone, forgotten and unloved. The night stillness was suddenly broken by the rumbling of a carriage that slopped before the garden pate. Two people came toward me, a man and a woman. I heard the man jangle some keys, and as he fumbled with the lock the woman held the lighted match until the door s,wung open and they entered. The chilling warmth beamed into the room, making it a little les cheerless. I almost felt the glow of youth pass over my shivering body once more. When the fire blazed he pushed the ore rough chair in the hall forward into its glow, and led the woman to it. She ?ank into it, clasping her hands before her and letting her head droop forward ever so little till the firelight gleamed on her snow-white hair. Her eyes looked straight out before her into the blazing limbers. He stood with his hand resting affectionately upon her shoulder, a little back of her; where the light shone on his strong rugged features, lined and furrowed with the signs of age and disappointment. An hour raced by and yet no word had broken the stillness. Finally, he spoke: "We must be going now, dear. We shall return in the morning." She started and looked at him in surprise. sur-prise. " JL ' -. "Leave here? You surely cannot mean it I shall never leave here again." ' " But only for to-night We can return to-morrow for good. It is not safe to stay here to-night." ' Again her eyes rebuked him. '"No harm can come to us here. "We are safer here than any place in the world.- Don't you rcin-mbor.-we called it 'Haven'? That means ret and safely. Tell the coachman to go back. We shall stay here forever now." He left her alone Just she and I. and it was then that I knew her. A great tremor passed over me so that one of the loose stones in my chimney was shaken from its fastenings and fell down into the fire, making it blaze up suddenly into a gorgeous glow that rumbled far up my chimney. And in its noUe my voice rose into a passionate pas-sionate cry, "Beloved! Beloved." Suddenly she leaned forward on her knees K-fore the hearth and listened and heard me.' When he returned, and threw down a great armful of holly on the hearth, she r!M him down beside her so that their anus were about each other and their faces close together. " Listen, listen" she whispered. " it is the house talking talk-ing to us. It has not forgotten. It is calling ' Beloved! j Beloved.'" ' I ii 1 ' 1 ANT WAT.K1-D AWAY, THE CltltD BETWM TIIEV. 'What 13 it, dear?" he asked, gently drawing her i"vn on the settle beside him. " Oh, nothing only, I am so happy in that it is just "u and I and our home." Av.d ihcy sat there together a long time, her head rri:n; in tbc hollow of his shoulder, and he smoking an old brier pipe, happy and contented. The minutes r;vd along until her head slipped lower, and she fell ;-Wp, while he drifted into the fairy' realm of futures 'rt blended, finally, with her dreams. Tl-ne were very happy days for us, I in the full rcKlia of fresh paint, with not a joint to give me the house in the world worth considering, and lorded it over all the neighborhood. "What do I care?" said I to them. "You are only every-day houses who change your occupants often, but I am more than a house. I am a home. The spirit of beauty and truth and nobility lives within mc. Besides, nearly all of you arc rented houses. You know no real owners; you are at the mercy of any one who is able to pay your price, but I belong to my people, and they belong to mc." When I talked on thus. I heard a far-distant voice answer me, and a T looked in the direction from which it came, I jaw an unpretentious old house living far |
