e
Ozarks," remarked the painter.

The old shepherd answered softly, "One did." Then rising to his
feet and pointing to Roark valley, he said, "Before many years a
railroad will find its way yonder. Then many will come, and the
beautiful hills that have been my strength and peace will become
the haunt of careless idlers and a place of revelry. I am glad
that I shall not be here. But I must not keep you longer from your
duties."

"I shall see you again, shall I not?" The painter was loath to let
him go.

"More often than will be good for your picture, I fear. You must
work hard, young sir, while the book of God is still open, and
God's message is easily read. When the outside world comes, men
will turn the page, and you may lose the place."

After that they met often, and one day the old man led the artist
to where a big house looked down upon a ridge encircled valley.
Though built of logs without, the house within was finished and
furnished in excellent taste. To his surprise, the painter found
one room lined with shelves, and upon the shelves the best things
that men have written for their fellows. In another room was a
piano. The floors were covered with rugs. Draperies and hangings
softened the atmosphere; and the walls were hung with pictures;
not many, but good and true; pictures that had power over those
who looked upon them. The largest painting hung in the library and
was veiled.

"My daughter, Mrs. Matthews," said the old shepherd, as he
presented the stranger to the mistress of the house. In all his
search for beauty, never had the artist looked upon such a form
and such a face. It was a marvelous blending of the physical with
the intellectual and spiritual. A firm step was heard on the
porch. "My husband," said the lady. And the stranger rose to
greet--the woman's MATE. The children of this father and mother
were like them; or, as the visitor afterwards said in his
extravagant way, "like young gods for beauty and strength."

The next summer the painter went again to the Ozarks. Even as he
was greeted by the strong master of the hills and his charming
wife, there fell upon his ears a dull report as of distant cannon;
then another, and another. They led him across the yard, and there
to the north on the other side of Roark, men were tearing up the
mountain to make way for the railroad. As they looked, another
blast sent the rocks flying, while the sound rolled and echoed
through the peaceful hills.