Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

88a. half-hidden by gloomy elm-trees. I went in-side, it was furnished in the typical gloominess of the mid-Victorian age – Bertha was at my side – I made a deprecatory remark about the place, but she said she liked it -

     I was now in a low marshy place, outside the town. It was the end of the day. To the east young workers of the town were playing ball. My feet were getting wet, so I climbed up on a high post, part of an old fence. The moon arose in the east, and as the day died, the moonlight seemed to glow and expand until the whole earth was up almost as bright as day with a marvelous supernatural silver light. I seemed to feel it flooding over me.

     I went over to where the young men were playing ball. By now most of them had gone to their homes. One young fellow remained, and wanted me to throw the ball for him to bat in a long arbor. I said I had better take off my glasses, and when I did so realized that I then would be unable to see the ball well. I went into a sort of store. It seemed now as tho there was a new book out, about a man, with plenty of money went around over the country, doing little good deeds with his money, buying things that certain people wanted but could not