March

On an especially high hill stood a large, handsome, two-story castellated dwelling made of white stone. The large windows and decorative woodwork in the stone walls revealed the home-like additions that had taken place over the generations. Running the length of the front was an arched piazza.
The back door flew open, framing a tall girl in a sweeping linen dress that flared into a full skirt. Visible at her neck and wrists was the frilly white chemisette she wore underneath.
"Evelyn!" she called, looking out over the sweeping meadow. Her gaze fastened upon a group of active figures farther down the hill. Most of them wore the short tunic and leggings of Salamontian men, but one was wearing a rippling, full-skirted dress. The young woman suppressed a sigh and called again, "Evelyn!"
Glancing up as she sprinted through the tall drying grasses, a willowy, tall girl caught a sailing ball with nimble fingers.
"Coming, Judith!" She dashed past a number of boys and swept magnificently across a makeshift finish line, with half-a-dozen young men in hot pursuit.
"Well done, Evelyn! You're as good as any fellow!" exultantly cried one.
"We're winning now!" another shouted.
Expertly, Evelyn tossed the ball to a fair-haired young man who was rushing forward. Wisps of her light brown hair, escaping the confinement of her braids, whipped in the wind. Though they conspired with her flowing dress to give her a more feminine look, her bold actions and forward manner proclaimed something different. It was an odd mixture-if mixture it was.
"Go beat them, Ernest-I will be back as soon as I am finished!" she loudly called.
"Surely, Evelyn!" he answered, tossing the stuffed pigskin ball into the air, and charging the opposition.
With a cheery nod, Evelyn turned and set off for the house, her long braids flowing in her self-created wind. What a joy it was to sprint across the grass!

A light wind chased her on the wing,
And in the chase grew wild.

Soon she was racing up the back porch steps and into a spacious kitchen. The whitewashed walls embraced the freestanding wood cabinets, and the tall
windows, open to catch the spring zephyrs, allowed light to shine across the wide table. Centered between two oak-framed doorways (one of which led into the large front room, and the other into the dining room) was the mighty hearth, around which everything related to cooking revolved. All in all, it was a pleasing room that made one want to pull an apron off the nearest hook and plunge merrily into work.
Evelyn paused for a moment, her hand on the doorframe, to catch her breath. Judith, her green eyes smiling, greeted her with a laugh. As the oldest, Judith enjoyed the pleasure of her younger siblings, and viewed her sister's snapping hazel eyes and reddened cheeks with merriment.
"Well, Evelyn, you certainly look like you have been having a time!" she chuckled.
With a twinkle in her eye, Evelyn answered, watching Judith's face,
"I should say so! -And Judith, the fellows are going to have races on the old bridge."
"Oh, my! That bridge is about to give way! You know it is not sa-" Judith caught herself. 'O Lord, it seems that every time I try to approach Evelyn about this subject which concerns me, my words get in the way! O help me guard my tongue!' "It is not safe, is it?" she finished lamely.
"Of course not, dear. That is half the jest. What is my job?" answered Evelyn, turning with studied carelessness to the rows of cabinets.
There was a pause, as Judith, lips pursed, carefully pulled an aromatic batch of golden-colored berry brioches out of the oven box. It was built into the wall above the open hearth. The delicious aroma set both girls' mouths watering, and they exchanged smiles.
"You must set the table and prepare some sort of vegetable. I have already started a pot of beef and sage stew."
"Mmm! Those brioches smell good! Are they for something special?" inquired Evelyn.
"I am making these for Father. He loves them so! You know how he has been wearing himself out in his efforts to get Master Coventry elected in the national election. He fears that even though Coventry is a respected man in the community, the people will vote for a forceful man named Naatron. Not much is known about him. He recently moved into Beaumont from an outlying province."
Fanny, a pretty, cheerful fourteen-year-old bounded into the room. Her deep red dress, bordered with gold embroidery, set off her dark hair and eyes.
"Naatron? How humorous-I just came across that name in one of my books," she exclaimed, casting a longing glance at the cooling treats.
"And what does it mean, name-lover?" teased Evelyn, greeting Fanny's entrance with a smile.
"Naatron means 'the ultimate evil.' I hope he is not like his name!" was the reply. "Do you know his given name? I will look it up," she added, with half-playful earnestness, throwing a laughing glance at her older sisters. They all knew that one of Fanny's favorite pastimes was to study names and their meanings.
"Names are powerful. I do hope that Master Naatron's does not prove true," Judith said briskly, popping another tray of goodies into the oven. Then, in an undertone, she remarked seriously,
"From what Father has said about him, I think he is a ruthless and power-hungry man who would do much harm if elected."
The girls worked busily for the next few minutes, industriously accomplishing their varied tasks. Unlike most Salamontian families of their standing, Master and Mistress Anason had decided not to hire indoor servants. They not only knew that wholesome labor builds character and that idle hands often meant mischief, but they knew that even one servant could have a negative influence on their children.
Suddenly there was a pounding of small feet coming down the stairs that led into the family room, and Joseph, Philip, Robert, and Titus burst into the aromatic kitchen.
"What are you making for supper?" asked Robert, his golden head peering anxiously into the bowls that covered the spacious table. Like most seven-year-old boys, he was always intensely interested in what was cooking.
"We are having beef and sage stew, rye bread, cherry brioches, and…"
"And kohlrabi," added Evelyn, smiling.
"…kohlrabi," finished Judith, putting her hand on his shoulder.
Three-year-old Titus fastened his round gray eyes on the tray of warm brioches as if they would disappear at any moment.
"May I have one?" he pleaded.
"Wait until Father comes home and we eat supper," Fanny said, trying to sound authoritative. Failing miserably, and sounding only like "Fanny trying to copy Mother," she and the others burst into peals of laughter.
"I should not speak where I have no jurisdiction," Fanny finally said, as the chuckling faded.
"She is right, though-you may not have any just yet," Judith gently confirmed, once their mirth had subsided.
Joseph and Philip lingered for a few moments soaking up the pleasant aromas that filled the room, and casting longing glances at the food until assured once more that they would not get any until supper. They then rambled out to work on a kite they were building, while Titus and Robert stayed to 'help' Judith.
Standing in the doorway to the dining room, Evelyn cast a critical eye at her setting job. Yes, everything was in place. After rapidly re-braiding her hair, she cried,
"Off I go! Ernest and I will be back by supper!"
Swiftly, she took off her apron, skipped happily down the steps, and ran off in the direction of the old bridge. Judith cast a lingering glance after her retreating form.

~*~*~

Once a mighty emblem of progress in the town of Beaumont, the ages of traffic in and out of the capital city had transformed the bridge into a mere shadow of its former glory. The city fathers had been forced to create a bigger, newer bridge when its condition had become a cause of public concern. The growing influx of tradespeople and travelers had begun to surpass the bridges' capabilities. So the highway had been rerouted to the new bridge, and the old structure that had done so much service was abandoned to slowly molder and decay.
As she approached through the dried tangle of grasses and bracken, Evelyn could see its spare side rails sticking up like the ribs of some long-dead monster, and she heard the ancient beams creaking miserably-and dangerously-as the young men played upon them. In a few moments she had clambered up the bank onto the disused, overgrown road, which made for easier going. Her practiced hand had automatically guided the flowing folds of her skirt away from the brambles, but now that she was on the path she let them fly free, simultaneously quickening her pace.
"Here she is!" one yelled, swinging precariously from a projecting pole. He leapt off and sailed through the air, landing on a lower beam just above the water.
Evelyn spotted Ernest on top of an oak girder. How handsome he was! Despite her independent feelings, she had always admired her older brother. Seeing her, his eyes lit up and he queried,
"When is supper?"
"In an hour," replied his sister, gracefully leaping over a rut.
Looking up from a glowering inspection of a beam, a short, stocky young man tauntingly shouted,
"Evelyn! I dare you to cross this backwards-blindfolded-with us shaking it!"
"Ignore him. Lovell is still smarting, because you won that race this afternoon!" another yelled.
The first speaker glared at him, which but confirmed the assumption.
However, Evelyn was not to be put off. This was an opportunity to show her mettle. Striding over to her challenger, she readily replied,
"I will take the dare-but you must do it also!"
With much blustering, he got up and scowled at her to see if she would back down. He had not counted on her acceptance, but she merely tilted her chin up a little and said,
"Get ready, fellows! I am going over!"
One of the young men fished a handkerchief out of his forest green tunic and Ernest helped her tie it on. Though he often wished his "little sister" would be less independent and willful, he knew he could not do much about it-except pray, stay nearby to protect her, and encourage her.
"You foolish girl! Why did you take this wild dare?" he whispered in her ear, but despite himself, pride was in his strong voice.
Tilting her head at a jaunty angle with her hand on his shoulder, she answered,
"They must know I can do things as well as they can, or better!" Slipping off her soft leather shoes, she turned from him towards the others and announced,
"I am ready!"
Then, while the boys jumped on and shook the whole structure so that it seemed ready to prematurely collapse, she coolly advanced across, her bare feet carefully assaying the boards to test their soundness. Swinging wildly, the bridge threatened to topple her into the river. Swaying with the moving structure, her poise and agility enabled her to remain balanced on the shifting beams. Her self-possession was admirable.
Once she reached the solid ground on the other side, the bridge truly erupted-with shouts and clapping. Scowling bitterly at her success, her opponent looked very glum and seemed a little frightened by the idea of going over, but the handkerchief was firmly tied across his eyes, and all was made ready for his crossing. Cautiously he began to back across. Suddenly, one of the decomposing spars disintegrated. With a loud crack, the board he was standing on crashed heavily into the shallow edge of the sluggish river, taking him with it!
Splashing up out of the shallow water in a huff, he tore the blindfold from off his frowning face, threw it down into the water, and stalked off, dripping, followed by peals of merry laughter. Unfortunately for him, the certain angry stalk he used was comical to the viewers, despite his intentions. Even the weeds, catching on his sopping clothes, seemed to conspire against him as he puffed along the dirt track that wound away through the hills to the outskirts of Beaumont.
He was soon out of sight, and could only faintly hear their mirth, when he was startled by a hurried sound from behind. Whirling about, thinking it must be one of them come to mock him (at least, that was what he would have done in a similar circumstance), he faced his pursuer. Evelyn, her brown eyes dancing with not-too-hidden merriment, came to an abrupt stop. Composing her face, she said frankly,
"Were you hurt? I trust you will harbor no hard feelings. It was your idea, you know."
His forehead knitted into a deeper frown. It was adding insult to injury for her to magnanimously ask after his welfare! He viciously growled,
"I do not want your sympathy, since you seem to think it was such a lark! Go away!"
"I am sorry you fell in. It was an accident-and you would have laughed if I had fallen in," she answered.
"Of course you are sorry," he sarcastically snapped, tossing his head to avoid her eyes.
Before she could answer, he turned a stiff, angry back and marched heavily off down the muddy, rutted road.
Evelyn looked after his retreating figure thoughtfully for a moment. Despite her natural reaction, which would be to think her challenger was quite foolish to hold a grudge about such an accidental matter, she had no desire to cause trouble, and her eyebrows puckered in a small frown of concern. Some things Ernest had relayed to her a few days before came to her mind: 'Father said that Lovell's father is close friends with Brent Naatron, a top contender for the office of 'Chief Servant'-he is rising rapidly in politics as Naatron's "right hand man." Now, I have accidentally made Lovell angry with us. It is a shame that Lovell took this so badly-Father wants us to be at peace with all our neighbors! How can I break down this wall of bitterness and anger-it might have dire consequences!'
She stood wrapped in thought for a few minutes, and then turned back to the old bridge, singing in her clear soprano a small song Judith had composed for the little ones.

"When things do not go just my way,
I thank my God and then I pray.
I will do all that I can and more,
To open up their locked heart-door!"

Taking a short cut back through the woods, she passed underneath the shapely trees and pushed through the undergrowth, her linen dress swishing.

By the time her song was finished, she had reached the crumbling bridge. A glance at the sun's position over the trees told her it was time to start for home.
"Ernest! Look at the sun!" she cheerfully called, with a loving glance at her favorite brother. His blue eyes followed her gaze.
"I see it is time. Godspeed!" he cried, setting off at a gallop up to their happy abode.
Despite his head start, Evelyn caught up to him, and the pair raced fleetly together across the tall grasses. It was a rather tricky piece of ground-diving down into small vales, then slanting steeply up and up to tangle in small patches of trees-but it made for a fabulously frantic "race!"
They reached the house at the same time, panting and breathless, but smiling. Evelyn paused on the steps and looked up at her strong, lean, brother, as he smiled down at her and placed a strong arm around her shoulder.
"Well done," was all he said, but her heart leaped with this praise. If we knew how much even the smallest words of sincere praise affect others, we would say them more often! With his free arm, Ernest leaned forward and pulled open the back door, gallantly beckoning his sister to go first. Normally she would have resented that gesture and acted as she had last week to Nathan Elton, a young man from church. He had courteously opened a door for her, but she had pointedly ignored it. After spending a few months by herself helping relatives last year, she now believed "a lass must show she can do things for herself without a fellow's help." But right now she was not thinking of that. Instead, her admiration for her older brother burned strong. He had such influence on her-perhaps more than either of them realized. With an appreciative glance, she turned and entered the house. We do not know or realize how little things add up to make a great impact on others. Was this one such a "trifle?" Only time would tell.
"Ting-ting! Tinggg!"
As the silvery tinkle echoed clearly from the front porch, calling to dinner, Ernest and Evelyn went straight through the kitchen to the supper table. At the sound of the bell, the house was instantly transformed into a bustling and noisy place as the family laid aside their projects and enthusiastically gathered at the long, dark, oaken table with its sturdily carved chairs and benches. Adorning its center was a beautiful bouquet of flowers that Fanny had picked from the sweeping meadow. A row of large windows illumined the dark-paneled room, and light glimmered on the polished silver on the sideboard.
Tall, thin Master Anason smiled lovingly on his vivacious family as they seated themselves, and then bowed their heads as he prayed, his strong, manly voice in earnest communication with his heavenly Father.
"Dear Father God, I thank Thee for this day and all that Thou hast brought to pass in it. We know that Thy thoughts are higher than our thoughts, and we also know that Thou canst see the whole picture, so we ask Thee to do Thy will in the land of Salamont. We praise Thee for being our Shepherd and Guide, knowing that all things are instruments to work Thy good pleasure in our lives. In Jesus' Incomparable Name, Amen."
"Amen," chorused the others, and there was a general rustle as each sat up expectantly, and picked up their knives and two-pronged forks.
Mistress Anason, a fair-skinned, beautiful woman with jet-black hair, looked up at her husband with loving, anxious green eyes.
"Howard, how did you fare today? Did anyone listen to you?" she asked.
"Aileen, the majority ignored my pleadings. You know how many care more about personal gain and popular opinion than what is right. Julian Brull and Caspar Exas seemed to agree with me, but I think it is because they see that otherwise they will be overshadowed by Master Naatron. However, the other twelve councilmen are strongly for Naatron. He has won them over with his promises of gain, his fiery words, and outward show. Even the fact that there can be no such thing as a lasting true democracy-the 51% will lord it over the 49% until an unscrupulous leader sets up an aristocracy or dictatorship in the vacuum of power-failed to move them," he said wearily. Catching sight of seven-month-old Hetty, who was cooing happily on her mother's lap, a smile crossed his worn features.
"Yet we know that God will use even this situation for His ultimate glory," he added.
"What about the people? Surely they are not all for Naatron?" Ernest's handsome face was serious and focused.
"I am afraid so, son. They are very infatuated with his talk of the 'democracy of the people.' The Salamontian people are very much like the Athenians of old-they are swayed and carried away by eloquence and great oratory. Master Naatron is a very powerful, captivating speaker. When people become slothful and desire to hand over their God-given jurisdictions to the State, the biblical plan for the family is eroded, and people lose their freedoms. Only evil will come. I am afraid most Salamontians are entranced by the ideas of Naatron. It is the easier road."
Ten-year-old Philip had been pushing around his kohlrabi with a fork, lost in thought. After a pause, he asked,
"But why can Master Naatron change the government if he is elected, Father?"
"It is a long story-but a very interesting one. Wait for "Family Time" after dinner, and then I will have time to explain it all," smiled Master Anason.
"Look, look!" cried Wynne, pointing a chubby finger out the window. "Oh, look at Capella's babies!"
Into view ambled a goat, with her four kids bouncing vivaciously behind. They looked like small copies of their glossy-coated, black mother-up to the small splash of white on their foreheads.
"How adorable!" Judith cried. "Joseph told me they had been born, but I have not found time to go out and see them."
After a few more exclamations and chuckles over the kids' antics, the conversation steered into other channels.
Leaning forward to serve herself some stew, Evelyn's mind wandered over her father's words "the people want a democratic government." 'Democracy relies on man being basically good - something that certainly is not true. All men are born with a sin nature and will only be truly perfect and sinless when Christ comes back-and then only the Christians will be 'perfect and entire, wanting nothing'-how foolish to think that the majority would know the right way to govern themselves and others, just because they are the majority! Father has often explained how an accountable, localized form of government like a Republic is really what we should have.' She was startled out of her musing by a small hand patting her arm, followed by Wynne's adorable voice.
"Ev'lyn, help me spread my butter," the five-year-old pleaded.
Evelyn turned to look into the little trusting face.
"Surely, sweet pea," she said distantly.
While she was quickly finishing Wynne's, Titus, who sat on her other side, chimed in,
"Ev'lyn, mine just musses up," the three-year-olds' face was a study.
A wave of thoughts swept over Evelyn. 'The little ones always get served first-I have a right to have warm bread and butter just this once-he can wait.' She almost gave in to the temptation, but as she glanced up, her eyes caught the Scripture verse her mother had stenciled above the doorway.

Let each esteem others better than themselves.

She read it again, letting the meaning sink in. 'Lord, forgive me for my selfishness and help me to rejoice as I serve others!' she prayed. When Titus looked up expectantly, wondering what was taking his Ev'lyn so long, a cheerful face greeted his own.

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