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Hush； they sing to the clover deep；
Hush；'t is the lullaby Time is singing；
Hush； and heed not； for all things pass。
Hush； ah； hush！ and the scythes are swinging
Over the clover； over the grass。〃
And now； spent with fatigue and watching and care and grief；
heart sick； mind sick； body sick； sick with past suspense
and present certainty and future dread；he sat under the cool
shade of the nooning tree； and buried his face in his hands。
He was glad to be left alone with his miseries；
glad that the other men； friendly as he felt them to be；
had gone to the circus； where he would not see or hear them
for hours to come。
How clearly he could conjure up the scene
that they were enjoying with such keen relish！
Only two days before； he had walked among the same tents；
staring at horses and gay trappings and painted Amazons
as one who noted nothing； yet the agony of the thing he now
saw at last lit up all the rest as with a lightning flash；
and burned the scene forever on his brain and heart。
It was at Wareham； too；Wareham； where she had promised
to be his wife； where she had married him only a year before。
How well he remembered the night！ They left the parsonage；
they had ten miles to drive in the moonlight before reaching
their stopping…place；ten miles of such joy as only a man could know；
he thought； who had had the warm fruit of life hanging within
full vision； but just out of reach；just above his longing lips；
and then； in an unlooked…for； gracious moment； his！
He could swear she had loved him that night； if never again。
But this picture passed away； and he saw that maddening circle
with the caracoling steeds。 He head the discordant music； the monotonous
creak of the machinery； the strident laughter of the excited riders。
As first the thing was a blur； a kaleidoscope of whirling colors；
into which there presently crept form and order。
。 。 。 A boy who had cried to get on； and was now crying to get off。
。 。 。 Old Rube Hobson and his young wife； Rube looking white
and scared； partly by the whizzing motion； and partly by the
prospect of paying out ten cents for the doubtful pleasure。
。 。 。 Pretty Hetty Dunnell with that young fellow from Portland；
she too timid to mount one of the mettle…some chargers； and snuggling
close to him in one of the circling seats。 The； good Got！
Dell！ sitting on a prancing white horse； with the man he knew；
the man he feared； riding beside her； a man who kept holding on her
hat with fingers that trembled；the very hat she 〃'peared bride in〃
a man who brushed a grasshopper from her shoulder with an air
of ownership； and； when she slapped his hand coquettishly；
even dared to pinch her pink cheek；his wife's cheek；
before that crowd of on…lookers！ Merry…go…round； indeed！
The horrible thing was well named； and life was just like it；
a whirl of happiness and misery； in which the music cannot play
loud enough to drown the creak of the machinery； in which one
soul cries out in pain； another in terror； and the rest laugh；
but the prancing steeds gallop on； gallop on； and once mounted；
there is no getting off； unless 。 。 。
There were some things it was not possible for a mean to bear！
The river！ The river！ He could hear it rippling over the sunny sands；
swirling among the logs； dashing and roaring under the bridge；
rushing to the sea's embrace。 Could it tell whither it
was hurrying？ NO； but it was escaping from its present bonds；
it would never have to pass over these same jagged rocks again。
〃On； on to the unknown！〃 called the river。 〃I come！ I come！〃
he roused himself to respond； when a faint； faint； helpless voice broke
in upon the mad clatter in his brain； cleaving his torn heart in twain；
not a real voice；the half…forgotten memory of one； a tender wail
that had added fresh misery to his night's vigil；the baby！
But the feeble pipe was borne down by the swirl of the water
as it dashed between the rocky banks； still calling to him。
If he could only close his ears to it！ But it still called
called stillthe river！ And still the child's voice
pierced the rush of sound with its pitiful flute note；
until the two resolved themselves into contesting strains；
answering each other antiphonally。 The river the baby
the riverthe baby； and in and through； and betwixt and between；
there spun the whirling merry…go…round； with its curveting
wooden horses； its discordant organ； and its creaking machinery。
But gradually the child's voice gained in strength；
and as he heard it more plainly the other sounds grew fainter；
till at last； thank God！ they were hushed。 The din； the whirlwind；
and the tempest in his brain were lulled into silence；
as under a 〃Peace； be still！〃 and； worn out with the contest；
the man from Tennessee fell asleep under the grateful shade
of the nooning tree。 So deep was the slumber that settled over
exhausted body and troubled spirit that the gathering clouds；
the sudden darkness； the distant muttering of thunder；
the frightened twitter of the birds； passed unnoticed。
A heavy drop of rain pierced the thick foliage and fell on
his face； but the storm within had been too fierce for him
to heed the storm without。 He slept on。
* * *
Almost every man； woman； and child in the vicinity of Pleasant
River was on the way to the circus；Boomer's Grand Six…in…One
Universal Consolidated Show； Brilliant Constellations of Fixed
Stars shining in the same Vast Firmament； Glittering Galaxies
of World…Famous Equestrian Artists； the biggest elephants；
the funniest clowns； the pluckiest riders； the stubbornest mules；
the most amazing acrobats； the tallest man and the shortest man；
the thinnest woman and the thickest woman； on the habitable globe；
and no connection with any other show on earth； especially Sypher's
Two…in…One Show now devastating the same State。
If the advertisements setting forth these attractions were
couched in language somewhat rosier than the facts would warrant；
there were few persons calm enough to perceive it； when once
the glamour of the village parade and the smell of the menagerie
had intoxicated the senses。
The circus had been the sole topic of conversation for a fortnight。
Jot Bascom could always be relied on for the latest and most authentic
news of its triumphant progress from one town to another。 Jot was a sort
of town crier； and whenever the approach of a caravan was announced；
he would go over on the Liberty road to find out just where it was and what
were its immediate plans； for the thrilling pleasure of calling at every
one of the neighbors' on his way home； and delivering his budget of news。
He was an attendant at every funeral； and as far as possible at every wedding；
in the village； at every flag…raising and husking； and town and county fair。
When more pressing duties did not hinder； he endeavored to meet the two
daily trains that passed through Milliken's Mills； a mile or two from
Pleasant River。