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Saturday's Story
Beyond the Wall.
The picture hangs in the class-room;
A scene of the Long Ago
The wall, and the marble pavement,
The Beats in a curving row.
And all tho nearer picture
That lies Just under my hand,
Seems like thejihance-found doorway
Into another land.
Full well do I know the meadows
Just over the low stone wall,
The rippling grain in the sunlight,
The wandering winds that call.
And out of the droning class-room
I pass, whenever I please,
Into the pleasant country
Beyond the beckoning trees.
DOROTHY GREEN.
'4 MOVERS'
Under the hot July sun the movers'
wagon creaked and groaned, with
shrieking" protest from every dingy
wheel. From under the feet of the
plodding horses a sifting cloud of dust
rose continuously, settling again on
the brown-patched covering of the
wagon, and forming a sun-lit wake In
the roadway behind it.
On the driver's seat within the
shadow of the canvas covering were
two figures. The one, a young man
with reBtless gray eyes and thin, Bim
burned face, sat Blouched forward,
holding the reins idly in his hands.
Upon his head was a much worn,
broad-brimmed hat and about his neck
a red handkerchief was loosely tied.
He wore no coat, and the sleeves of
his faded shirt flapped unbuttoned
about his wrists.
The woman beside him was also
young. But there was an un
natural hectic flush on her thin cheeks,
and the dark eyes within the shadow of
her sunbonnet burned with a strange
light. At times she broke into a hack
ing cough, and then you might see how
frail was her spasm-shaken form, and
how loosely the duBt-stalned dress
fitted it. Although the air was stifling,
she wore a thin gray shawl about her
shoulders.
Neither tho man nor the woman
gave a look to the passing scenery.
Evidently the brown, drouth-stricken
fields which stretched away on either
side were no new sight to these two,
who Bat unheedful. Jolting heavily with
tho lurching wagon, and gazing Into
the dusty roadway before them.
At length In their plodding march
the horses reached the foot of a long,
gdptle hill, and stopped of their own
accord;- with lolling tongues and heav
ing sides. The man made no attempt
to Urge them on again, but continued
In he same posture, letting his eyes
rove slowly over the waste of prajirle
land about him. He continued thus
for some time; then, with a quick
movenfent ot hi's hand, he suddenly
puBhed ,hls hat Fo the back of his
head an,d looked up at his companion
with a half-quizzical smile In his gray
eyts. I
"Jess," he said, "do you remember
what the cattlqmen used to say when
they'd come by the old place East?
They'd look at tho stones cropping out
all over the llttlo farm and hear aboutywagon
the mortgage; and thenjthey'd say, off
hand, 'Corao out In Gawd's couQtry and
live that's the place for a man.' Well,
we're here, Jess. This here's . Gawd's
country."
He waved his hand toward the hot,
Bun-baked prairie, and laughed dryly.
"Ain't it lovely?" he said; "Look
at it!"
The woman shivered and drow closer
the shawl which sbo wore.
"I don't see how you can laugh about
It, John," she said, drearily, "I wiBh
to goodness we'd never come. I wish
we'd stayed Ihoro-r-we could have
staved $ft. the mortgage somehow."
Her lip quivered. "No, I ain't going
to cry you don't need to look scared.
I cried my last when wo bulled the
baby back there I said bo then I'm
flast crying., I'm sick of it alt."
The light had died out of his face.
"Well," he said huskily, "I suppose we
ought to a-known "
"Yes," she replied, "we ought to a-
known and to think ho could a-
llved If we hadn't come, John. He
wasn't strong enough he couldn't ever
a-stood It. We ought to a-known bet
terand "
Her voice broke for a moment, and
then a prolonged fit of coughing seized
her. When it ceased she lay back
wearily with closed eyes, and for a
time there was Bllenee broken only by
the labored breathing of the horses and
the cry of a cricket by the roadside.
After a time the man looked up again.
"I used to think It would be a purty
nice thing," he said slowly, "when I'd
stand and watch them cattlemen riding
away into the WeBt on their fat little
ponies, after they'd given me a quarter
for a drink at the spring. Maybe I
thought it was all gold and green grass
out here then. Why, I used to lay
awake nights thinking about It. It
seemed awful hard work raising stone
crops and then, when father died, I
thought I had my chance. And now
we're here."
He kicked the footboard In front of
him absently.
"Do you know," he went on, "them
horsPB look just about as skinny as the
oneB they used to have on the movers'
wagons that came by the farm. I used
to sit on the fence when I was a kid
and watch them go past and wish I
could Bo along. Well, that's the only
dream I ever had come true. I guess
we're the real thing In that line. Do
you know, Jess, we look Just like 'em?"
Before he could speak again he felt
a grasp on his arm. Jess had sat up,
and there was a new ring in her voice.
"John MacGregor," she said, "don't
you ever Bay that again. We're respec
table; we're going to settle down as
soon as we And some land, and you
know It. We ain't movers."
"Well." he replied, "you was like
your old self then, Jess. I don't care
have It your own way. I don't know
as the name makes any difference."
"Yes, It does," she said, leaning back"
again. "I don't Bee what you're sitting
there talking for, anyway. This Is a
nice place, right In the middle of the
road. Why don t you drive on .'
He swung his leg. "What's the use
of Btartl
to. W
then th
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There ain't no place to get
climb thlB hill, and
another, and after that
,Tiore hills you climb
What's the use?
added, "here comes a na
tive. 'Lot's find out where we are?"
There was a sound of rattling wagon
wheels In the rear, and immediately a
team of sweating horses appeared on
the right, followed by a heavy farm
wagon. The driver pulled In his horses
at a signal from MacGregor, and re
garded the occupants of the covered
"You broke down?" he asked.
"No," replied the other, "we're Just
taking a sun-bath. Nice day, ain't it?"
The farmer stared.
"How far is it to the next town?"
"About ten miles." Tho man sat for
a moment fingering the reins and tak
ing an Inventory of the movers' outfit
with his eyes.
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(U. of N. 1900)
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"Been a lot of you people through
here lately," he remarked at last.
"What's the rush?"
MacGregor looked at hlB wife and
then swung one leg over the edge of
the seat.
"We ain't movers," he explained, "If
that's what you mean. We're Just
looking for land."
Tho farmer looked puzzled and then
smiled. "Oh," he answered, "I see."
He chirruped to his horses. "My name
Is James Henry James. We might
be neighbors if you should think of
settling around here seeing that
you're looking for land."
He drove away with the smile still
on his face.
When MacGregor turned around his
wife was sitting up very straight and
watching the retreating farmer.
"Did you hear him?" she said. "Did
you hear him Bay 'you people,' Just like
we were And that look on his
face! I don't think he believed you,
John."
He shrugged his shoulders. "Well,
I guess he's got u purty good right. I
guess we look like the real thing.
You're awful particular about a name."
"Yes," she replied In a low voice,
"I am particular. We're respectable,
and we're Juat as good as anybody.
And when I use that name, John Mac
Gregor, I've give up and not before."
There was silence for a moment,
while the dust from the passage of the
other wagon eddied and settled In the
roadway. Then MacGregor raised the
ends of the lines slowly and brought
them down upon the backs of the
horses. As the wagon started with a
Jerk and a rattle, he slouched forward
once more, and his wife leaned back
Into tho shadow of the canvas with
closed eyes, When the panting horses
strained over the ridge of the hill
they were still sitting thus.
1
It was late in the evening and the
moon was shining full when the cov-
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