Joe Cone
Saybrook,
Conn.
J A R E
D T O O K A C H
A N C E .
By Joe Cone.
The world looked
pretty dark to Jared Balter. To be sure the birds were singing, and the little
brook at the end of the field rang merrily over the stones, but he heard them
not. An automobile flashed around the bend of the road and was rushing towards
him, but he saw it not. Usually he would have turned and watched it out of
sight. Today but one thought occupied his mind: “How could he win Alice
Chalker?” That was the problem.
He had met his
Waterloo the evening before. He had waited till she left the post office, then
he overtook her, quite accidentally, of course. She had listened to him,
patiently, as she had done a dozen times before. At his conclusion she had
laughed, as she had done – a dozen times before.
“No, Jared,” she had
said, lightly, “you don’t thrill me any. When I take a husband I want one
who’ll lift me off my feet.”
“Huh!” he had
replied, awkwardly, “I could do that with one arm.”
“No, you don’t
understand. I mean you’d have to wake me up; do something heroic. Something
nobody else has ever done.”
By this time they had
reached the gate. He had hoped she would linger awhile and argue the case.
Instead she had said a quick “good night” and had disappeared amongst the
shrubbery. He had stood a long time looking at the stars trying to think of
something heroic. But anything out of the ordinary in his quiet life had seemed
even more distant than the twinkling stars.
Today he was going
though the same agony of mind. He knew that Alice thought well of him, loved
him, in fact, but he also knew there was something lacking. Sometimes he laid
it to his own shortcomings. He was too awkward, and lacked force. Then he
blamed her for being frivolous, and not knowing her own mind. He couldn’t bring
himself to believe he had a rival, because he was her logical lover. And it was
generally understood that they were engaged. Sometimes he thought, bitterly,
that she was too sure of him and was only cats-playing with him. At all events,
he was miserable, and helpless.
Alice Chalker was a
sweet girl, and fair to look upon. She meant well, but had read too much of
certain kinds of literature, and was romantically inaccurate. She yearned for
the unusual, the impossible, and Jared suffered from her yearning.
The next day was to
be “Fair Day.” It was the yearly event. Jared wanted to ask Alice to go, and be
her companion for the day, but he feared a refusal. Other fellows took their
girls to the fair and seemed to be happy. Why not he? But it was too much to
expect from a girl of Alice’s makeup. She appeared to enjoy perfect freedom.
The day wore on, and the sun went down, but nothing of a heroic nature
suggested itself to Jared.
The next morning the
sleepy old town had awakened. All kinds of people in all kinds of vehicles were
headed for the fair grounds. Jared, dressed in his best,
was an early visitor. And he did look well in his new clothes, Alice admitted
that – to herself. The village band was playing sprightly airs, and crowds
surged to and fro, admiring the new and wonderful exhibitions.
Jared, however, had
lost interest in county fairs. His mind was full of something unusual, something heroic. “If a fire would only break
out, or a thief be discovered,” he muttered, but the hours passed uneventfully.
At two, P. M., the event of the day was to be pulled off. That consisted of a
balloon ascension. The great bag was swaying in the summer breeze, and hundreds
of persons were loitering about the ropes that protected the basket. All
interest was now centered around the aeronaut. He was to emerge shortly from
his tent, jump into the basket and sail away into space. The suspense was
thrilling. Wider and wider became the circle of onlookers. Alice Chalker, with
several girl friends, was standing close to the ropes. Jared, still gloomy and
preoccupied, stood but a few yards away. How he envied the aeronaut! He
was about to do something heroic, and the crowd would shout its admiration. If
he were only an aeronaut, or something. Nothing had, or ever could, come
into his life to place him above his fellow men. He was a plain, prosaic
farmer, and farmers never had a chance. Meanwhile the impatient balloon tugged
at its rope.
Jared stole a look at
Alice. She was filled with suppressed excitement. Never had she looked so
enticing. The basket bobbed at him mockingly. It was but a step away. His bosom
heaved, and he felt his blood tingling. Like a flash something heroic took
possession of him. With a bound he was at the side of the girl he loved. The
crowd started back. In a twinkling he seized the frail body of his girl and
threw her into the basket. An exclamation of surprise swept over the onlookers.
Before they had recovered their senses sufficient to act he jumped into the
basket and jerked out his pocket knife.
A shout from the aeronaut, who had just left his tent, arrested the
attention of the startled witnesses. A quick slash and the rope parted. The
balloon, now alive, shot upward. A hoarse murmur rose from the crowd, and wild
excitement prevailed.
The girl was too
terrified to speak. She crouched where she had fallen, spell-bound, speechless.
Jared, ghastly, his eyes ablaze, looked from the midgets below into the face of
the girl. When he had found his voice it had a strange, uncanny sound.
“Alice, I – I have done
– something” he gasped, feebly; “I had to do – do something.”
They were mounting
higher and higher. He shivered from the cold. For the first time his sense of
danger awakened within him. She was recovering, and about to speak. A wave of
pity swept over him.
“We’ll both be
killed,” she murmured, feebly. “Oh, Jared, what have you done?”
“Lifted you from your
feet,” he replied, yet dazed.
A megaphone voice
from miles below, it seemed, reached his ears. “Pull the string!” Just above
his head a small rope was dangling. He had not noticed it before. Mechanically
his hand encountered the rope. Then followed a sense of descending.
“If we land safely,
Alice, will you –“ and he seized both her hands. She clung to him, and pressed
her head hard against him. For the first time in his life the sweet sense of
possession swept over him. After all, ballooning wasn’t so bad, he thought. He
held her, closely, and wished the sail might go on indefinitely.
“Forgive me, Alice,”
he said tenderly, “but I just had to do something unusual; you – you kind of drove
me to it.”
“I’ll never taunt you
again, Jared,” she said, willing to sail through life with him.
They felt a gentle
bump, and flowering fields, fringed with trees,
burst upon their view. They beheld a black stream of excited people a half mile
away. But they did not wait. The privacy of their own homes was more important
to them the remainder of the day.
axb
(undated)
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