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Updated: May 25, 2025
Beneath the sunny summer showers Thy love assumes a milder form, And writes its angel name in flowers; The wind that flies with winged feet Around the grassy gladdened earth, Seems but commissioned to repeat In echo's accents silvery sweet That thou, O Lord, didst give it birth.
The girls gathered in a group about the bride, bustling and chattering, telling her all men were brutes at time and, looking at the fat Sheriff, who blushed to the roots of his hair at the charge, that "Slim Hoover was the worst of the lot." Mrs. Allen pushed them away, and again fell weeping on Echo's shoulder.
"Sure, come in," cried Polly, glad to find any excuse to shake off the depression of Echo's dream. "Howdy, Mrs. Payson, just come over to see Jack," was the jolly Sheriff's greeting. "He's down at the corral," she informed him. Mrs. Allen hurried in from the kitchen at this moment, calling: "Echo, come here, and look at this yere cake. It looks as if it had been sot upon."
Rushing to Echo's defense Polly answered: "She may or may not have loved Dick Lane, but I know that she loves Jack Payson now with all her heart and, even if the 'Paches did not get your brother, he's as dead to her as if they had." Polly was startled and confused by Bud's accusations. Accordingly, it was a relief to her when Payson appeared on the scene.
"Come, follow me! Follow me to my secret haunts," wailed the Echo. "Give me my soul! Give me my soul!" but no one through all the centuries had ever climbed to the Echo's hiding-place. "If only I could make them understand!" sobbed the Echo, "my long bondage would cease. The first foot that treads my prison, frees me, and gives me rest."
On the morning when the wagon brought it over from Florence station, little work was done about the place. The instrument had been unpacked and placed in the living-room in Echo's absence. Mrs. Allen, Polly, and Jim rode over to be present at the presentation. The donors gathered in the living-room to admire the gift, which shone bravely under the energetic polishing of Mrs. Allen.
The breeze had gone down, and the rustle of their feet and tones of their speech echoed with an alert rebound from every post, boundary-stone, and ancient wall they passed, even where the distance of the echo's origin was less than a few yards.
Enormous bells of exquisite purity of sound, hung a few feet from the ground in the area before the temples, are rung at stated periods by the use of a battering ram of wood, suspended near them, causing the huge monsters to give out soft, muffled, though deep and far-reaching notes, that float off among the mountain passes, and come back again from Echo's lips, with startling distinctness.
After thou left us, I cleared up the dishes, and then swept the house; got down to the kitchen just in time for dinner, which, though eaten alone, was, I must confess, very much relished, for exercise gives a good appetite, thou knowest. I then set my beans to boil whilst I dusted, and was upstairs waiting, ready dressed, for the sound of the 'Echo's' piston.
They turned back to look and there far, far beneath them, they saw the White House with the Green Blinds By the Side of the Road, and Mother standing by the door. She looked ever so tiny, and she was blowing that horn over and over to call them to supper. They reined in their horses to listen, for they knew what they would hear in a minute. Yes, there it came, that other horn it was Echo's.
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