I began a description of her
home and personality. I pictured "the orchard, the meadow, the deep
tangled wild-wood and every loved spot" the judge well knew. I
pictured the brook that ran through the meadow into the woodland and
on down the valley, singing as it ran,
"I wind about and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing;
Here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grey-ling."
When my time was half gone I felt I was gone too unless I could get a
little nearer the heart of the judge. Opening the door art had made to
shut in the flowers of a lovely family I brought out the golden-haired
girl.
Taking off the sun-bonnet of art, that the good-night kisses of the
sinking sun might enrich her rosy cheeks and golden tresses, I sent
her strolling down the winding walk hedged in by hawthorn and hyacinth
to the water's brink. Here I gave her a cushion of blue-grass, and
with the rising moon pouring its shimmering sheen upon the ripples at
her feet, I sent her voice floating away on the evening air singing:
"Roll on silver moon, guide the traveler on his way." Here the
audience cheered, the judge smiled and I felt encouraged.
With but two minutes left I had the shapely fingers of nature, take
out the hair-pins of art and the golden tresses fall about the snowy
neck of nature. Then came the untying of the shoe-strings of art; off
came the shoes and stockings of art, and the pretty feet of nature
were dipping in the limpid stream.
Pages:
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196