isa-normaladvance-1903-00069

Description:	THE NORMAL ADVANCE.69tried it with first one knee stiff, then the other,then with both. He brought his heels down first,then scattered the dust with his toes next hemoved on tiptoe. Pigeon toed was followed withfirst one foot turned out, then the other, thenboth. He caught a rock in his toes and carried itapiece. But during all of these manoeuvers henever got closer than the distance between thewagon tracks.When they came to the creek, the smooth whitesand was tempting almost to the point of endurance. He proposed to show her how to makebaby tracks the balance tipped, maternal admonitions vanished, and they were soon reveling in theclean white sand of the creek bed. He smootheda place, and carefully pressed the side of hisdoubled fist into the yielding sand. Then with hisfinger he made five little toe prints, and the babytrack was perfect. Her admiration was beyondwords. He must make another, the left one thiswas the right one. He began again the same process. In her eagerness she knelt beside him sheleaned closer, closer she rested one hand on hisshoulder. A thrill tingled through every atom ofhis being! Her tangled white hair touched hisface! He felt the touch to his toes! Withtrembling hands he finished the track. Soon shecould make them, and the number of tracks grew.Tiring of this, they made toad houses. Heplaced his foot on the moist sand near the water,and together they piled and packed the sand ontop of it. Then he carefully drew his foot out, theroof held firm, and the toad house was a thingof beauty. A whole village of toad houses wasmade. But even this joy palled, and they beganto write in the sand. At last he wrote an inscription closing with the word lovers. She did notrecognize the names. He was reluctant to interpret them, till a pout, and that talisman so fatalto secrets, I think you might tell just me, completely overcame his fained reluctance. Then heexplained that it was her middle name and her lastname, and his middle name and his last name.She was so delighted with his ingenuity that shefailed to deny the implication. The sun had stolendown behind the trees before she remembered thatshe was to hurry straight home from school.Again they were pattering down the road in thetwilight, but not the distance of the tracks was be-twen them this time.When you come over the school steps in themornin, you look awful dost, he said.Why? she asked.Oh cuse.What11 I see?Oh sumpin, was his only explanation.He was at school the next morning long beforethe second comer arrived. As she approached thestile a company of boys and girls were sitting onit deeply engaged in efforts to solve a mystery.Dont know nobody with them nitials some feller an is girl out wheelin, readier her ear. Shelooked in the direction indicated by a half dozenfingers, and saw carefully carved on the railing,L. A. and A. A. Lovers.Wonder whose it is, she remarked, but sheblushed and looked around for him but he wasback of the hoiuse turning hand springs. As theranks were forming, she looked at him, smiled andplaced her finger to her tightly closed lips. He repeated the pantomime and his earthly existencewas complete. So they passed into the schoolhouse, each happy under the weight of a great secret.Life is long, chance is legion. Fate has no compassion on the human heart, but with the wish thatthe years may never unburden those letters of thejoy they now express, we close the little schoolhouse door. C. L. Fidlar.
Source:	http://indstate.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/isuarchive/id/33818
Collection:	Indiana State University Archives

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