I
decided to go to St. Louis for curtains and chairs, for beds and
lounges, chests and bureaus. When the last of May came I set out for the
city.
CHAPTER XIV
This June weather in Illinois! Such glorious white clouds floating in
the boundless hemisphere of fresh blue! The warmth and the vitality of
the air! The glistening leaves of the forest trees! The deep green
shading into purples and blues of the distant woodlands! The sweet
winds, bending the prairie grasses for miles and miles! Glimpses of cool
water in little ponds, in small lakes, in the brook! The whispering of
rushes and the song of thrushes, so varied, so melodious! The call of
the plowman far afield, urging the horses ahead in the great work of
bringing forth the corn! The great moon at night, and the spectacle of
the stars in the hush of my forest hut!
I was superbly well. And for diversion went farther into the woods to
hear a fiddler and to have him teach me the art which fled my dull
fingers and the unwieldy bow. And this fiddler! His curly hair, always
wet from his lustrations for the evening meal; his cud of tobacco; his
racy locutions; his happy and contented spirit; and his merry wife and
the many children, wild like woodland creatures, with sparkling eyes and
overflowing vitality! Many evenings I spent at this fiddler's hut.
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