Young Socialists Magazine 1911 Jan June.pdf

10 TBlI Ll'I'TLB 100IALIIT .... GAZIJOI:H~ .:t~F; ~o; r~ ~O; '~u;·r~ ;·H~; i~:::~:;:"(;1::1 ~; ~8; ~ ; ~ ; ~ ; ~ R; ~ ;e,~ ~!.~!!a'dfl;:,,(jFrom Maitland Varne, by DuBois H. Loux, who recently rt­Sigl,lCd from the pulpit in Connecticllt.I wandered in the intoxicated airin blissful pleasure, for the thoughto f r.leeting Marguerite in the envchanted woodland filled me withecstasy. There were grottos to theside running off from the promenade,with the softest light filteringthnl the vines overhead. And farbe)'ond in the vista gleamed thebeauty of an open garden. The redand white berries of wintergreenand mistletoe swept up lily face a s;r p.1.ssed an odor of hyacinthsmingled with the spicy exhalatio ns9f the forest trees. I heard a mel-·Maitland Varne, by Lo ux.Cloth, $1.50. Socialist Literatllft·Co .. 15 Spruce St., New York.low, gargling voice of laughter asI allproached the garden.A boy darted out to meet me asI callie close to an open bank ofdaffodils, whose golden masseslightened with borders o f pale yellowprimroses and the loveliestA great length of garden vistastretched before my eyes. It wasin a pinery. with de llatis brushing white jonquils. I knew it was themy head. It was a spice-scented half-wit in an instant.' He carriedGeorgian forest glade. Everywherethe waving of Southern mosses inilllerlacing boughs. varied withdem{ltis and ivy. As I advancedthe promenade broadened, and was!uxmious now with holly and laurel.a bunch of violets in his hands,which he held up with delight."See. sweet gardener!"I bent (iown, attracted by thl'uca utiiul pale face of Ihe child.wintergreen and mistletoe. Itwas a feathery wekome, natural"Eyes! Deautiful eyes! You sc:almost to the extent of defying itiIhl'm in the flowers?"artificiality. 1 stood enchanted. I stooped lowcr, for an unnaturalJ was in the Everglades. The greatt:ypress trees bending over stalwarllight was in the great or~s of th::bvypa lms. whose lighter green mingledwith the darker shades of orange" Aren't they beautiful eyes?I recs, filled the room. Garlands o f:\ren'l yOll glad, sir?"·~ llIila x and clusters of Virginia I did not interrupt his long COIII- .vines quickened my Southern llIunion with the violets. Nor didblood. It was as if the vision had I repl y with other than a smilebeen created for me.when he quickly noticed the violet,..hade in my own eyes. H is rapt expressions,and th e extreme delicacyof the child 's frame, filled me withcaution. 1 noticed his wonderful,goi fled head. with its great abun·dance of hair. It spoke of hisgenius which he had inherited froma long line of composers and paintcrs.Placed on SO frail a body, it:"e(,lIIe