The Purple Heights

the Young Sons and Daughters of Zion, in her church, and hot words with a deacon who said that when he passed the cup Emma Campbell lapped up nearly all the communion wine, which was s

her hair had been able to get it up. Peter, therefore, took a holiday. He fil

iverton Road he me

on the road again, and then down a lane, and along the river, and through the pines, and finally to the River Swamp woods. Peter came fleet-footed to Neptune's old cabin, raced round it, and then stopped, in utter confusion and astonishment. On the

e friendliest fashion, "

and direct, and her smile so comradely that Peter took an instantaneous liking to her. He wondered what on earth she meant by comi

politely. He smiled at her, and Peter

ared at the canvas. Then he stepped back yet farther, lifted one hand, and sq

you think of

very exact. Unfinished though it was, the picture showed that; and it

hough I've always wanted to," said Peter

er or not you like it,"

woods, the beloved woods, and came back to her canvas. "I thi

olina wilds wasn't to be expected. She took a longer look at the boy and thought she had never before seen a pair of eyes so absolutely, clearly golden. Those ey

e told him comradely. "And may I ask who you are, and why and how you

I hope I didn't startle you? It's my butterfly's fault. You see, I never kn

miral that just whizzed by? He skimme

and a sash like a general's? Then that's my butterfly!" said Peter, happily. He smiled a

eople who had lately bought Lynwood Plantation, a few miles

about that butterfly of yours? And where some more of the good l

nd himself talking freely to this Yankee girl; it was the most natural thing in the world that she should understand. So Peter, who, as a rule, would ha

tain spring. He was wistful, eager, and mad to know things. His eyes went back again and again, with a sort of desperate hunger in them, to the canvas on her easel, as if the secret of him lay there. The girl sat with her firm white chin in her firm whi

e sketch," she said, when he had

lay his hands on. Riverton and the surrounding country, as Peter Champneys saw it, unrolled before her astonished eyes. It was roughly done, and there were glaring faults; but there was something in the crude w

tedly a fairy." And after a moment, studying the old m

n house, Jake had fallen; and the space that was now green with grass had been full of vengeful men, and howling dogs, and trampling horses. Peter

t such a thing could happen in such a place. She looked at

g her folding-easel and camp-stool across his shoulder. Lynwood was some three miles fro

ached the porch of Lynwood, "Miss Spring, do you

u see. And I can't stay indoors. I've got to make th

u'd mind if I just sort of stayed around so I could look a

ter's thought processes. She was immensely interested in this shabby little

d you mind telling me just why you want

rom one bare fo

hat, by yourself? There-well, Miss Spring, there are bad folks everywhere, I reckon. Our niggers"-Peter's head we

ed her shoulder. And he was offering to take care of her, to be her protector!

while we were walking home, and I've got the nicest little plan all worked out in my mind. You shall take me around these woods, which you know and I don't. You'll b

oked at her with a face gone white from excess of astonished rapture, and a pair

asm; and she had such a pupil now as real teachers dream of. It wasn't so much like learning, with Peter; it was as if he were being reminded of something he already kn

e, and flat surfaces, and high lights, and foreshortening. She was the first person from the outside world with whom Peter had ever come into

stopping at Lynwood. They thought Miss Spring charming, when they occasionally met her, but when it came to trapesing abo

nhappy, but Peter did at times perceive the shadow upon her face, and he knew that the silence that sometimes fell upon her was not always a happy one. At such times he managed to convey to her delicately, without words, his sympathy. He piloted he

s a new Claribel that morning, a Claribel with a rosy face and shining eyes and smiling lips. She had gotten n

, what to avoid. And she said that when he had become a great man in the big world, one of these days, he wasn't to forget that she'd prophesied it,

yly when he remembers that first month of heavy farm work. The mule was big and Peter wasn't, the plow and the soil were heavy, and Peter was light. Trammell, the farmer, held him to his task, insisting that "a boy who couldn't learn to

. Early in the morning, with such lunch as he could come by, his worn Bible in his coat pocket and a package of paper under his arm, Peter disappeared

ew. A negro plowing in a flat brown field behind a horse as patient as himself; an old woman in a red jacket and a plaid bandana, feeding a flock of turkeys; a young girl milking; a boy driving an unruly cow-

the scheme of things that a boy should be asked to do a man's work for a dwarf's wages. And the food they gave him at the Trammell farm-house was beginning to tell on him. Peter asked for more money and was refused with

harged himself out of hand, and went back to Riverton and

ook it willingly enough, as he was still feeling the effects of bad food and heavy farm work. He learned to roll pills and weigh out lime-drops

ind for the free and artistic one. The Peter Champneyses of the world challenge the ideal of commercial success by their utter inability to see in it the real

umphreys. Mrs. Humphrey still tasted that ice-cream and cake Peter had given to old Daddy Christmas on a hot afternoon. It w

sh up the last of the seven on Saturday night, than to have your neighbors say you aren't businesslike. Had Peter taken to tatting, instead of to sketching niggers in ox-carts, and men plowing, and women washing clothes, Riverton couldn't have been more impatient with him. Artists, so far as the aver

should go hungry and naked and friendless to the end of his days. He wished to get away from Riverton, to study in some large city under good teac

sery in her legs. Although she had a conjure bag around her neck, a rabbit foot in her pocket, and a horseshoe

ess was the fact that in repudiating him his last wife had carried off all his small possessions, and there was no money left to bury him. Now, not to be buried with due and fitting ceremonies an

uried in her arms, a prey to woe. Then he went to the bank and drew what remained of his savings. Cassius was gathered to his father's with all the accustomed trappings, an

ple heights were a