Puslapio vaizdai


ing by the hundred out of nothing at extraordinary apparition in direct deall?

fiance of all that had really been. The dancing girl, full lipped, inso- With a strangling shout Hamid sprang lent, her eyes sultry under a cloud of to his feet, pointing at his flickering hair, rode by on her donkey. At sight double. of her Hamid stiffened to keenness, "No, no; it was not so! I was not like a setter at the flight of a bird. there." There was fear on his face,

“I have seen that woman before," in his tone a passion of too much dehe whispered.

fense that struck strangely upon their It was probably only the remem- ears.

"How could it be?" Hamid was brance of the day before, now bitten demanding of them. "How could I on their brains by the acid of spilt have come in like that when—" blood, but to all came a sense that they He caught at his words as one who also had seen that woman before. The suddenly discovers himself on the brink black and white of the pictures seized of a precipice. But with an almost upon physical points with almost the audible crash that haunting resemcrudeness of caricature; the girl was blance, the two figures on the screen, taller than they had supposed, and came together in Millard's mind, meltevery now and then some turn or ing into one with a horrible certainty, gesture brought a haunting, uncatch- and it was his cry that finished the able memory. The memory broken sentence: stronger as she danced; there was the "When you were disguised as the swift intake of breath as they saw her dancing girl. Hold him, fellows!" fling herself before Sir Everard. Mil- Millard cried again. "Sears, run that lard almost cried out to Sears to stop bit once more. Now look at them.” the damned thing before those pic- None of them cared to remember tured lips moved in the words that had that moment-Hamid writhing under led to the treachery in the tower. But their grip like some trapped animal Sears would not have heeded, he saw; while the evidence paraded again and the fellow stood there, cranking the again with the inexorableness of a old-style machine, his eyes upon the veritable writing on the wall. They wall as those of one who waits the had the clue to that resemblance now, first sight of his own masterpiece. running it down item by item, the same

He was looking at the arch, dark high-built, narrow face, the unchangeand empty at the side of the picture. able contour of the hands, a tilt of the But it was not so empty now. There chin, a habit of glance not to be denied was a moving glimmer in its depths, by practice; then the comparison of the an advancing figure still hidden by the two as Hamid in person came through shadows; then suddenly, unbelievably, the arch. Hamid Vansittart appeared. Straight "I see it now," Millard bitingly actoward them he came, pausing as he cused. “You whispered to Sir Evercaught the sunlight, with a glance of ard who you were and that you had veiled preoccupation. There was an news for him. Then, when it was impression of something hidden and done, you slipped back to the town to sinister, and again that resemblance change your disguise. That was how tormentingly uncaught. It was an you turned up so suddenly this morn

[ocr errors]

ing. But there are finger-prints on "Sure; that 's all there is to it.” that knife.”

Millard saw that to Sears that really "But how – how could it be?

was “all.”

Hamid's approaching Hamid cried.

court-martial; Hewitt's dramatic en

try with the reinforcements; the flag $ 9

still drooping above the fort in symbol It was the question that lay in of that strange, unbreakable British Millard's mind also, but in the rush of “hold” upon things; the invisible inevents it was days before he could ask fluence of the affair, spreading over it. Sears was leaving. Since he had half the world like ripples from a stone

a made the pictures of the Koom Katia cast in a pool—all these things seemed occupation, his work was done, and his to leave the fellow unimpressed. A baggage camera, motorcycle, and all flash upon a blank screen, and for him --was now piled upon the truck wait they were ended. ing to take him to rail-head. As he “You see, it 's quite simple," Sears came sauntering out through the arch, said. "Well, so long. I'm going to a mushroom sun-hat tilted over one beat it back to Los Angeles this time, ear, the usual dead cigarette drooping sure.” from his lower lip, Millard halted As he passed on, Millard felt a dehim.

sire to call him back, oppressed by the “Before you go there's one thing I inadequacy of this farewell, with its must know. How was it done?” utter lack of drama. Considering all

Sears stopped in evident surprise that had gone before, surely something that any one should need to be told. more was demanded than this. Then

“Why, I told you I wanted to see he saw that the sense of what had gone what might have happened if that guy before was for himself alone, and no had been here that day, did n't I? such weight was resting on Sears's And I told you I had left a hole in my shoulders. To Millard, watching the films, too. Well, if you've got a other pass on through the arch to the blank spot, you can print any other vast outside, it was as though Sears picture into it. See?"

was walking straight out of those And you already had that picture Koom Katia pictures, while he himself of Vansittart coming through the was still held there upon the screen of arch." Millard remembered.



Johnny Appleseed, whose real name was John Chapman, was born in New England in 1775. He died near Fort Wayne in 1847. He was less than thirty years of age when he began the picturesque and purposeful life-work to which Mr. Lindsay pays vivid tribute in the following pages. In 1803, or perhaps a bit earlier, young Chapman moved westward to the neighborhood of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. There he began to work out the settled purpose of his life, which was to move westward, keeping always a little in advance of the peopled frontier, planting orchards as he went. As civilization periodically caught up with him, he disposed of his trees for a "fip-penny bit” apiece, for food or old clothes, or, more frequently, gave them away.

For forty-six years he walked barefoot and unarmed through the wilderness. He was often clothed only in an old coffee-sack, with holes for his head and arms, and carried a tin pan, which often served as his hat. The Indians regarded him as a great “medicine-man,” doubtless because he scattered through the woods the seeds of medicinal plants, such as catnip and pennyroyal. He was a lover of children and animals. He was never molested by the Indians or by the beasts. He was welcomed everywhere. He lived to see his trees bearing fruit over a territory of a hundred thousand acres.

He was a sort of secular medicant friar. An incidental part of his mission was to spread the doctrines of Emanuel Swedenborg. In the following poem Mr. Lindsay pays homage to a character that has been too often treated as eccentric only.-THE EDITOR.

In Praise of Johnny Appleseed

Born 1775. Died 1847


In the days of President Washington,
The glory of the nations,
Dust and ashes,
Snow and sleet,
And hay and oats and wheat,
Blew west,
Crossed the Appalachians,
Found the glades of rotting leaves, the soft deer-pastures,
The farms of the far-off future
In the forest.
Colts jumped the fence,
Snorting, ramping, snapping, sniffing,
With gastronomic calculations,
Crossed the Appalachians,
The east walls of our citadel,
And turned to gold-horned unicorns,
Feasting in the dim, volunteer farms of the forest.
Stripedest, kickingest kittens escaped,
Caterwauling “Yankee Doodle Dandy,"
Renounced their poor relations,
Crossed the Appalachians,
And turned to tiny tigers
In the humorous forest.
Chickens escaped
From farmyard congregations,
Crossed the Appalachians,
And turned to amber trumpets
On the ramparts of our Hoosiers' nest and citadel,
Millennial heralds
Of the mazy forest.
Pigs broke loose, scrambled west,
Scorned their loathsome stations,
Crossed the Appalachians,
Turned to roaming, foaming wild boars

Of the forest.
The smallest, blindest puppies toddled west
While their eyes were coming open,
And, with misty observations,
Crossed the Appalachians,
Barked, barked, barked
At the glow-worms and the marsh lights and the lightning-bugs,
And turned to ravening wolves
Of the forest.
Crazy parrots and canaries flew west,
Drunk on May-time revelations,
Crossed the Appalachians,
And turned to delirious, flower-dressed fairies
Of the lazy forest.
Haughtiest swans and peacocks swept west,
And, despite soft derivations,
Crossed the Appalachians,
And turned to blazing warrior souls
Of the forest,
Singing the ways
Of the Ancient of Days,
And the “Old Continentals
In their ragged regimentals,
With bard's imaginations,
Crossed the Appalachians.


A boy
Blew west,

[ocr errors]

And with prayers and incantations,
And with "Yankee Doodle Dandy,”
Crossed the Appalachians,
And was "young John Chapman,”
"Johnny Appleseed, Johnny Appleseed,”
Chief of the fastnesses, dappled and vast,
In a pack on his back,
In a deer-hide sack,
The beautiful orchards of the past,
The ghosts of all the forests and the groves-
In that pack on his back,
In that talisman sack,
To-morrow's peaches, pears, and cherries,
To-morrow's grapes and red raspberries,
Seeds and tree souls, precious things,
Feathered with microscopic wings,

« AnkstesnisTęsti »