What a fair country that must be
where the sun sets! And we stay here in our dim light, in our dull
monotones, when, to the westward, there's a land all capped with clouds
of red and gold. There is Tip's Valley of Peace. John Shadrack's
widow may not be a celestial being, but that is my sunset country. In
journeying to it, I shall leave myself behind; in the joy of the road,
in the changing landscape and skyscape, in the swing of the buggy and
the rattle of the wheels, I shall forget myself and Mary and Tim for a
time, and when I come back it will be with wound unhealed, but the
throbbing pain will have passed, and I can face them with eyes clear
and speech unfaltering.
"I'll go with you to Happy Valley, Tip," I said, rising and turning to
the door. "You hitch the gray colt in the buggy and----"
"We are goin' to ride," cried Tip. He had always made his flights
afoot before that, and the prospect of an easy journey caused him to
smile.
"Do you think I'll walk?" I growled. "Get the gray colt and I'll give
you a lift over the mountain, but I'll bring you back on Monday, too.
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