The Witness, Grace Livingston Hill Lutz [the little red hen ebook .TXT] 📗
- Author: Grace Livingston Hill Lutz
Book online «The Witness, Grace Livingston Hill Lutz [the little red hen ebook .TXT] 📗». Author Grace Livingston Hill Lutz
Stupid And Shameful Rôle Of Followers Of The Bolsheviki, With A Blind
Weapon Between Their Hands.
A Part Of The "Peasants In Uniform" Followed The Bolsheviki To Smolny. The
Germans Honored The Bolsheviki By Continuing With Them The Pourparlers For
Peace. The Bolshevist Government Had At Its Disposal The Red Guards, Well
Paid, Created Suddenly In The Presence Of The Crumbling Of The Army For
Fear Of Remaining Without The Help Of Bayonets. These Red Guards, Who Later
Fled In Shameful Fashion Before The German Patrols, Advanced Into The
Interior Of The Country And Gained Victories Over The Unarmed Populace. The
Bolsheviki Felt The Ground Firm Under Their Feet And Threw Off The Mask. A
Campaign Against The Constituent Assembly Commenced. At First In _Pravda_
And In _Izvestya_ Were Only Questions. What Will This Constituent Assembly
Be? Of Whom Will It Be Composed? It Is Possible That It Will Have A
Majority Of Servants Of The Bourgeoisie--Cadets Socialist-Revolutionists.
_Can We Confide To Such A Constituent Assembly The Destinies Of The Russian
Revolution? Will It Recognize The Power Of The Soviets?_ Then Came Certain
Hypocritical "Ifs." "If," Yes, "If" The Personnel Of The Constituent
Assembly Is Favorable To Us; "If" It Will Recognize The Power Of The
Soviets, It Can Count On Their Support. _If Not--It Condemns Itself To
Death_.
The Socialist-Revolutionists Of The Left In Their Organ, _The Flag Of
Labor_, Repeated In The Wake Of The Bolsheviki, "We Will Uphold The
Constituent Assembly In _The Measure We_--"
Afterward We See No Longer Questions Or Prudent "Ifs," But Distinct
Answers. "The Majority Of The Constituent Assembly Is Formed," Use Was Warm As A Pocket Without
It. They Colored And Strung Popcorn, Gilded Walnuts, Cut Silver-Paper
Stars And Chains For The Tree, And Hung Strings Of Cranberries,
Bright-Red Apples, And Oranges Between. They Trimmed The House From Top
To Bottom, Even Twining Ground-Pine On The Stair Rail.
Those Were The Speediest Two Weeks That Courtland Ever Spent In His
Life. He Had Thought To Remain With The Marshalls Perhaps Three Or Four
Days, But Instead Of That He Delayed Till The Very Last Train That Would
Get Him Back To The Seminary In Time For Work, And Missed Two Classes At
That. For He Had Never Had A Comrade Like Bonnie; And He Knew
Chapter 30 Pg 181First Day Almost, That He Had Never Known A Love Like The Love That
Flamed Up In His Soul For This Sweet, Strong-Spirited Girl. The Old
House Rang With Their Laughter From Morning To Night As They Chased Each
Other Up-Stairs And Down, Like Two Children. Hours They Spent Taking
Long Tramps Through The Woods Or Over The Country Roads; More Hours They
Spent Reading Aloud To Each Other, Or Rather, Most Of The Time Bonnie
Reading And Courtland Devouring Her Lovely Face With His Eyes From
Behind A Sheltering Hand, Watching Every Varying Expression, Noting The
Straight, Delicate Brows, The Beautiful Eyes Filled With Holy Things As
They Lifted Now And Then In The Reading; Marveling Over The Sweetness Of
The Voice.
The Second Day Of His Visit Courtland Had Made An Errand With Bonnie To
Town To Send Off Several Telegrams. As A Result A Lot Of Things Arrived
For Him The Day Before Christmas, Marked "Rush!" They Were Smuggled
Into The Parlor, Behind The Christmas Tree, With Great Secrecy After
Dark By Bonnie And Courtland; And Covered With The Buffalo Robes From
The Car Till Morning. There Was A Big Leather Chair With Air-Cushions
For Father Marshall; Its Mate In Lady's Size For Mother; A Set Of
Encyclopedias That He Had Heard Father Say He Wished He Had; A Lot Of
Silver Forks And Spoons For Mother, Who Had Apologized For The Silver
Being Rubbed Off Of Some Of Hers. There Were Two Sets Of Books In
Wonderful Leather Bindings That He Had Heard Bonnie Say She Longed To
Read, And There Was The Tiniest Little Gold Watch, About Which He Had
Been In Terrible Doubt Ever Since He Had Sent For It. Suppose Bonnie
Should Think It Wrong To Accept It When She Had Known Him So Short A
Time! How Was He Going To Make Her See That It Was All Right? He
Couldn't Tell Her She Was A Sort Of A Sister Of His, For He Didn't Want
Her For A Sister. He Puzzled Over That Question Whenever He Had Time,
Which Wasn't Often, Because He Was So Busy And So Happy Every Minute.
Then There Were Great Five-Pound Boxes Of Chocolates, Glaced Nuts And
Bonbons, And A Crate Of Foreign Fruits, With Nuts, Raisins, Figs, And
Dates. There Was A Long, Deep Box From The Nearest City Filled With The
Most Wonderful Hothouse Blossoms: Roses, Lilies, Sweet Peas, Violets,
Gardenias, And Even Orchids. Courtland Had Never Enjoyed Spending Money
So Much In All His Life. He Only Wished He Could Get Back To The City
For A Couple Of Hours And Buy A Lot More Things.
To Paint The Picture Of Mother Marshall When She Sat On Her New
Air-Cushions And Counted Her Spoons And Forks--Real Silver Forks Beyond
All Her Dreamings!--To Show Father Marshall, As He Wiped His Spectacles
And Bent, Beaming, Over The Encyclopedias Or Rested His Gray Head Back
Against The Cushions! Ah! That Would Be The Work Of An Artist Who Could
Catch The Glory That Shines Deeper Than Faces And Reaches Souls! As For
Courtland, He Was Too Much Taken Up Watching Bonnie's Face When She
Opened Her Books, Looking Deep Into Her Eyes As She Looked Up From The
Little Velvet Case Where The Watch Ticked Softly Into Her Wondering
Ears; Seeing The Breathlessness With Which She Lifted The Flowers From
Their Bed Among The Ferns And Placed Them Reverently In Jars And
Pitchers Around The Room.
It Was A Wonderful Christmas! The First Real Christmas Courtland Had
Ever Known. Sitting In The Dim Firelight Between Dusk And Darkness,
Watching Bonnie At The Piano, Listening To The Tender Christmas Music
She Was Playing, Joining His Sweet Tenor In With Her Clear Soprano Now
And Then, Courtland Suddenly Thought Of Tennelly, Off At Palm Beach,
Doing The Correct Thing In Wedding Trips With Gila. Poor Tennelly! How
Little He Would Be Getting Of The Real Joy Of Christmas! How Little He
Would Understand The Wonderful Peace That Settled Down In The Heart Of
His Friend When, Later, They All Knelt In The Firelight, And Father
Marshall Prayed, As If He Were Talking To One Who Stood There Close
Beside Him, Whose Companionship Had Been A Life Experience.
There Were So Many Pictures That Courtland Had To Carry Back With Him To
The Seminary. Bonnie In The Kitchen, With A Long-Sleeved, High-Necked
Gingham Apron On, Frying Doughnuts Or Baking Waffles. Bonnie At The
Organ On Sunday In The Little Church In Town, Or Sitting In A Corner Of
The Sunday-School Room Surrounded By Her Seventeen Boys, With Her Bible
Open On Her Lap And In Her Face The Light Of Heaven While The Boys
Watched And Listened, Too Intent To Know That They Were Doing It. Bonnie
Throwing Snowballs From Behind The Snow Fort He Built Her. Bonnie With
The Wonderful Mystery Upon Her When They Talked About The Little Watch
And Whether She Might Keep It. Bonnie In Her Window-Seat With One Of The
Books He Had Given Her, The Morning He Started To Go Out With Father
Marshall And See What Was The Matter With The Automobile, And Then Came
Back To His Room Unexpectedly After His Knife And Caught A Glimpse Of
Her Through The Open Door.
And That Last One On The Platform Of Sloan's Station, Waving Him A
Smiling Good-By!
Courtland Had Torn Himself Away At Last, With A Promise That He Would
Return The Minute His Work Was Over, And With The Consolation That
Bonnie Was Going To Write To Him. They Had Arranged To Pursue A Course
Of Study Together. The Future Opened Up Rosily Before Him. How Was It
That Skies Had Ever Looked Dark, That He Had Thought His Ideals
Vanished, And Womanhood A Lost Art When The World Held This One Pearl Of
A Girl? Bonnie! Rose Bonnie!
Chapter 31 Pg 182
The Rest Of The Winter Sped Away Quickly. Courtland Was Very Happy. Pat
Looked At Him Enviously Sometimes, Yet He Was Content To Have It So. His
Old Friend Had Not Quite So Much Time To Spend With Him, But When He
Came For A Walk And A Talk It Was With A Heartiness That Satisfied. Pat
Had Long Ago Discovered That There Was A Girl At Stephen Marshall's Old
Home, And He Sat Wisely Quiet And Rejoiced. What Kind Of A Girl He Could
Only Imagine From Courtland's Rapt Look When He Received A Letter, And
From The Exquisite Photograph That Presently Took Its Place On
Courtland's Desk. He Hoped To Have Opportunity To Judge More Accurately
When The Summer Came, For Mother Marshall Had Invited Pat To Come Out
With Courtland In The Spring And Spend A Week, And Pat Was Going. Pat
Had Something To Confess To Mother Marshall.
Courtland Went Out Twice That Summer, Once For A Week As Soon As His
Classes Were Over. It Was Then That Bonnie Promised To Marry Him.
Mother Marshall Had A Lot Of Sense And Took A Great Liking To Pat. One
Day She Took Him Up In Stephen's Room And Told Him All About Stephen's
Boyhood. Pat, Great Big, Baby Giant That He Was, Knelt Down Beside Her
Chair, Put His Face In Her Lap, And Blurted Out The Tale Of How He Had
Led The Mob Against Stephen And Been Indirectly The Cause Of His Death.
Mother Marshall Heard Him Through With Tears Of Compassion Running Down
Her Cheeks. It Was Not Quite News To Her, For Courtland Had Told Her
Something Of The Tale, Without Any Names, When He Had Confessed That He
Held The Garments Of Those Who Did The Persecuting.
"There, There!" Said Mother Marshall, Patting The Big Fellow's Dark
Head. "You Never Knew What You Were Doing, Laddie! My Steve Always
Wanted A Chance To Prove That He Was Brave. When He Was Just A Little
Fellow And Read About The Martyrs, He Used To Say: 'Would I Have That
Much Nerve, Mother? A Fellow Never Can _Tell_ Till He's Been _Tested_!'
And So I'm Not Sorry He Had His Chance To Stand Up Before You All For
What He Thought Was Right. Did You See My Boy's Face, Too, When He
Died?"
"Yes," Said Pat, Lifting His Head Earnestly. "I'd Just Picked Up A
Little Kid He Sent Up To The Fire-Escape, And Saw His Face All Lit Up By
The Fire. It Looked Like The Face Of An Angel! Then I Saw Him Lift Up
His Hands And Look Up Like He Saw Somebody Above, And He Called Out
Something With A Sort Of Smile, As If He Was Saying He'd Be Up There
Pretty Soon! And Then--He Fell!"
The Tears Were Raining Down Mother Marshall's Cheeks By Now, But There
Was A Smile Of Triumph In Her Eyes.
"He Wanted To Be A Missionary, My Stephen Did, Only He Was Afraid He
Wouldn't Be Able To Preach. He Always Was Shy Before Folks. But I Guess
He Preached His Sermon!" She Sighed Contentedly.
"He Sure Did!" Said Pat. "I Never Forgot That Look On His Face, Nor The
Way He
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