Central High School - Mirror Yearbook (Birmingham, AL)

Page 26 text:

girl would be able to direct him. As he drew near the girl turned and threw herself into his arms. It was Mae. but what a change! She was dressed in a rough, brown riding suit, her face was sunburned and her hair hung down her back in one long plait. In the place of the big bunch of hot-house flowers, that Dick was accustomed to see her wear, was a large cluster of goldcnrod. The next day Mae and Dick went for a long ride out on the country roads. “I have something to tell you.’’ Mae said as they started, “and I know of the dearest place way out among the rocks where, the goldenrod blooms in a perfect mass of color. The goldenrod was in full glory and seemed in some way (strange to Dick) to appeal to Mac. Long before they had reached the place where they were to stop for their talk, their arms were full of the beautiful golden blossoms. As they sat together among the rocks and admired the beauty of the scene. Mae said softly, “Dick, I’ve changed my mind, I don't want a big wedding. I never want to see another evening dress. ' “Why, what's the matter, little girl. I thought-■ “Yes. I know you think that I care for nothing but a good time and parties and those things, but I have found out that I would rather live simply and have the power to see and appreciate the beautiful things around me. I am finding out how to know people ‘worth while and they don’t live in the way I did. We will have our wedding in that little brown church over there and all of the decorations will he goldenrod. FT.OREXCF. SMITH. 13. A SPRIG OF HEATHER. “( h. for a breath o’ the moorlands A whiff o’ the caller air! For the scent o the flowerin’ heather, My very heart is sair! We were spending the summer in Scotland, Richard tiruen, myself, and Baby Dick, six years old last May. Scotland, you must know, was my husband’s early home, before he left it to make his fortune in America. Well, he had not been back since long before we were married, and one morning, almost before the first nasturtium was up in the front garden, he said to me, “Elina, we must go back. The heather is calling me home. We must get there just as the buds arc coining.” Well, as I said before, we went, he. Dick and I. I must say, I never was such a crank about natural scenery as Richard, but anybody would have fallen under the spell of the wonderful beauties of the Liddcl Valley. I was surprised that we didn’t go to Traquaire, where all Richard’s people were, but he didn’t mention it. and neither did I. not being over anxious to be with his rantin’ “old Scotch ‘oman o’ a mither.” We made straight for Harvick Among the Hills, and put up at Copshaw, a very nice little 24

Page 25 text:

all my life as a magnificent beginning of a long, happj life with my own clear doctor ’ Hut, Mac. you know that you arc nut strong enough to have a big wedding. just think of the receptions, teas, and millions f things that you will have to attend. No. my valley lily cannot have a big wedding. ( li, Dick! I must! I’ve just got to—’’ I II tel! you what. let's be married tonight and go up in the mountains— I know of the nicest place—all cool and quiet where you can rest and get well, then when you come back in the fall, you can have all the good times you want.” I his idea of a quiet wedding did not appeal to wealthy, fastidious Mae, who wanted and had the best of everything, hut in spite of herself she was persuaded to go to the country, even though she still clung to the plan of having a big wedding with millions of orchids and lilies of the valley. )h. my doctor, whv did you make me go? cried Mate as they were saying the last good-byes. I don’t want to go. it will be so lonesome out there, everything will be so rough, no pretty clothes or theatres or—or. Dick! I can’t even have an orchid. I here, there. little girl, there will be at least one valley lily and I will send you orchids once in a while. Then in the fall you can come back and we will have the big wedding. Be sure and write to me every day. Good-bye— good-bye. Mae was prepared for a dull lonesome time. 1 lor trunk was full of novels and writing paper, for she said to herself. I'll pay old Dick back fi.r making me go way out there. I'll write to him so often that he will get tired of reading my letters. All of her worst fears were realized, for as the train stopped at a small dirty-looking station, a roughly clad, sunburned farmer came forward ami asked. Is this ’ere the Miss who’s goin’ to stop at our house? Afterward she could not remember how she had answered him or how she ever managed to pass away the first few days. But when she was told that there was a saddle horse which she could use. her spirits rose and she began to take an interest in the beauties of the country. Dick began to work doubly hard when Mae left, fi r he was verv lonesome in spite of her letters. At first they were dull and Yuli of complaints but soon she began to talk less of herself and more of the people around her. There is a very interesting old man. or. our nearest neighbor has the dearest little baby.” were frequent remarks that made Dick wonder what change was taking place. Then came a day in the fall, when Dick was seriously troubled. A note came from Mae, which read: Dear Dick, Come at once, I need you. No longer votir ‘val'ey lily W hat could she mean, was it possible that she had fallen in love with some farmer hoy? W lieu Dick jumped from the train at the litle station and looked for his dainty valley lily, be was frightened. No sweet, pretty figures in white greeted him. Phe only person in sight was a girl in rough riding clothes bending over to examine a place on her horse's leg. Mae must be sick. Maybe this 23

Page 27 text:

hotel, ii it were not so close to Hermitage, with the gloomy old castle hidden in the midst of a dense wood and cursed by black and bloody memories. W ell, we hadn't been at Copshaw a week when Richard came down one morning rigged out in his new hunting suit, with a behoof cartridges around his waist, and his heaviest gun on his shoulder. “May Dick go with me, Mother? he asked, chucking me under the chin, and brushing the hair from off my forehead. “Go where? I didn’t like to tru t the poodle to him when he was in this mood, let alone Dick. Oh, just for a little stroll. I’ve heard quail are quite plentiful over tiear the Hermitage.” 1 never saw a man so crazy about shooting innocent things, as vou are, in my life, Richard Gruen.” ‘‘Ah, now, Mither---- Like as not if 1 let Dick go. you'll bring him home all shot up! Go on. and take him, but for the Laird's sake be careful.” They went, and it seemed to me they were the longest time coming back! I could have crossed the channel in hours less time! It was after midnight when I heard steps in the hall: I opened the door to find Richard standing there—alone. His face was all drawn and haggard and a wild look was in his eyes such as Ld never seen before. “Where’s Dick? “I ken nicht, Mither, he choked—he always lapsed into Scotch when he was excited— I hae e’en bane hunting him e’er since dusk.” Richard! Dick isn’t hurt?” “That's jist what I nae ken, I nae ken whither nr nicht he’s hurt.” “Tell me about it. quick! Then, we must hurry and look for him.” He spoke in such a sputtering of Scotch that it was hard for even me to understand him, but I gathered from it that the boy had been lost about seven hours. They had been quite successful in the hunt, but Dick did not wish to go home when Richard called him. He spied some especially beautiful heather high upon a knoll, and ran after it. Richard said he he’ard a shrill voice call: “I'm coinin’! Yes. I’m cornin'!” ami as he thought the boy was calling t » him he waited. After a few minutes he began to call at intervals, but received no answer, and went hurrying up the hillside in search of the Child. T haj never seen Richard weep but once before, and that was when lie received the last letter from his brother Bane, then in Africa but he broke quit down when he told me that lie had found a bunch of the heather on a big stone with I lie print of the baby fingers still on the stems, and vet. though lie wandered till midnight, be found no trace of Dick. We turned in the alarm at the hotel. “Baby lost at Hermitage! ran from mouth to mouth, and soon there was a large party scouring the woods and moors in feverish haste. About davbrcak we came upon a clearing, in the midst of a black forest, and down in the hollow there was a tiny hovel. The roof was thatched with brush, and a vine was trained so as to cover each end concealing the naneless windows. Bv some strange chance the wildest pinkish-purple heather grew right up to the door, and almost hid the single step. I don't know why it was. but a feeling came over me that the boy was near. 25