Melvin and the Moon

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Melvin and the Moon By Donna Reith Scott

It was October, but this evening in the little mountain village was like one taken from June. The calm breeze coming from over the hills was faintly touched with the scent of pines. In the shadowy twilight crickets were piping from a thousand unseen places. A night bird cried alone in the distance. A bright glow lit the sky in the southeast, and ever spread over a larger space. Quickly the full, yellow, haze-enlarged moon swung over a clear-cut peak of the mountains. It cast a soft radiance over the rambling old hotel and over the two middle-aged women rocking back and forth on its vine-covered balcony. Its light stole through the open door, to the rear of tnein, onto little Melvin's bed, and laughed into his half -open eyes. For a few moments the women, quietly gazed at the moon's face and at the limpid reflection falling upon the slopes of the mountains in the distance. Mrs. Warren, who was Melvin's nurse, sighed gently under the spell of the beauty of the night. "It doesn't seem to be golden and big and glowing like that in the city. How strange, it is," she mused. "They say it's a great globe of cold slag." "Yes," Mrs. Ruehl, the hotel proprietor's wife, responded, "there are hills and valleys, metals and stones on the moon, just like ours and — "Nurse," Melvin called, "who owns them?" "Owns what, honey?" "The hills and valleys." "What hills and valleys?" "On the moon!" "He does think of the strangest things!" Mrs. Ruehl murmured. Mrs. Warren turned her head toward the open door and explained, "There's no one there to own them, honey. Probably there's wonderful things there. But there is no one to see. Go to sleep now, dear; it's late, so you'll grow to be a big, strong boy." The small voice inside ceased. Suddenly something like a huge bird loomed in the sky. "What's that?" the nurse exclaimed. The other woman leaned over the balcony to see better. "Oh," she replied, "that's young Harry Jones in his airplane.

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He's a terribly smart boy, only seventeen. He made his own machine. He works during the day, and on moonlight nights he always flies." In the silver silence of the night they heard the sound of his machine, and saw him fly up, up, steering toward the moon. Then there against the brilliant globe he seemed to hang. — "Oh oh, how thrilling," Mrs. Warren ejaculated. "How beautiful Melvin must see this." !

She sprang from her chair and fluttered in beside his bed. "Honey?" she chirped, bending over. Melvin opened his sleepy eyes, looked at her, and then closed them again. She snatched a blanket off the bed, wrapped him in it, and ran to the balcony. On the edge of it she held him. "Look up Quick, honey. !

Wake up. I want you to see something." She pointed toward the moon. "See, honey?" His big blue eyes opened heavily and gazed out into space. Directly the long lashes fell over them. "See, dear," Mrs. Ruehl urged. "See, Harry Jones in his airplane. He's hanging against the moon." Melvin's eyse opened desperately. Blinkingly, he stared long and hard. He began to quiver with sleepy excitement. — "Right in, in the moon, isn't h-e-e-e?" With the last drawn-out vowel his head fell heavily on his nurse's shoulder. The next evening was another Indian summer one. Melvin was put to bed about eight o'clock. A half hour later, the nurse peeped into his room from the balcony door. The bed was disarranged and unoccupied. She viewed it stupidly for a moment, and then switched on the light. Melvin's clothes, including his overcoat and cap, were gone. "Honey, honey, where are you?" she cried. There was no reply. She ran to the top of the stairs and summoned Mr. and Mrs. Ruehl. Straightway the couple began a search of the house, while the nurse hastened out into the road. Everyone in the village knew the little "city boy," who had come to the hotel with a trained nurse, a month ago, to get strong after an attack of scarlet fever. Breathless, agitated, in the stillness of the beautiful, starhung night, she sped down the road. She rapped at doors and faltered, "Melvin is missing. Have you seen him?" The answer was always "No," until she reached the boy aviator's home. "Have you seen Melvin this evening?" she asked, despair in her voice, as Harry opened the door in answer to her knock.

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"Yes," he replied, "he was here about a quarter of an hour ago. He asked me if I were going to fly tonight. I said, 'Yes, when the moon comes up.' Then, almost in tears, with quivering lips, he coaxed me to take him along. Of course, I wouldn't take a little fellow like him. I laughed and told him to run on home, quick." Relief had been showing in her face at the aviator's first words. Now renewed anxiety took possession of her. "But where did he go from here?" she asked. "If he had gone home I would have met him on the road." "Why," the boy replied, "he turned right around and went toward the hotel. I didn't watch him. I went into the house." Returning, the nurse found Mr. and Mrs. Ruehl, and nearly the entire population of the village grouped on the wide bridge over the creek. He hadn't come back to the hotel, they told her. "Maybe he got stole," a glittering-eyed, dime-novel reading boy suggested, "or maybe he fell into the creek." "Oh, I don't know what to do?" she moaned. Then as she saw several walk off the bridge, stoop, and peer into the gurgling water, she turned and ran to the railroad station, calling, "I'll phone his parents." Melvin's father replied. She told him how the child had been put to bed, presumably got up, dressed, and had gone out. And now he could not be found. "Get men to search the country," he ordered. "His mother is at the theater. I won't alarm her. I'll be there as fast as an automobile can bring me. Hire men. Save no expense." When she reached the road again, men were grappling in the water. Lanterns were bobbing in and out among the dark clumps of willows. Other men were standing in groups lighting flickering lanterns and planning a system of search. Tears began to run down her cheeks. "I'll hire every man in the town," she sobbed. "I should have watched him closer. He's such a different child." No man wanted to be hired; but every man was going to search. One group was to explore the creek and the path along it, one to go toward the low hills, one to beat the surrounding fields, and those who had horses to take the trail to the peak. The first three groups had already started on the hunt, the fourth group had gone home to get their horses to meet on the bridge later, when from the trail leading from the peak came the trot, trot of a horse's feet. An aged rancher drew up on the bridge. The excited crowd Burrounded him. Before he had a chance to say a word, a dozen

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voices told him, "Melvin, the little city boy, is lost. Have you seen him?" "Wall, now, I believe I did," he answered, slowly, thoughtfully. "Awhile back, I saw a boy on the path leading to the peak. He was just agoing up from the hollow." A tense hope was snaking Mrs. Warren's body. "A boy about so high?" she asked, holding out her hand a few feet above the ground. "About that, I judge," he answered. Mrs. Warren exclaimed in half-joyous relief, appealing to the crowd's opinion, "Of course, that must have been him. After he was out, he took it into his head to go and see his friend Jack." "That's it! That's it," a dozen voices agreed. "His friend Jack, as he calls him," Mrs. Warren went on, "patiently explains everything to him. Melvin probably thought of something that seemed very important to him. He wanted to ask him, and fearlessly went up the trail to find him." One after another the men on horseback galloped up. Mrs. Warren, now more cheerful, instructed them, "Please go up to where Melvin's friend, the naturalist, is camping. He's somewhere on that trail." In a cloud of dust they tramped away. Mrs. Warren grew quite calm. It was merely a question of time and he would be back. A boy on a bicycle was dispatched to tell the other searchers the news and to recall them. The general tension relaxed. "Nothin' to worry about," the old rancher consoled Mrs. Warren before he drove on, "nothin' but rabbits, squirrels and such like that way." In the soft air the villagers lounged by the creek, chatting of Melvin, and wondering how long it would take Mr. Ramsey, his father, to get there, while time dragged on. Suddenly, as on the preceding evening, the moon soared over the mountains, touching the scene with a glow as fair as early dawn. The young aviator glanced wistfully at it, smiling there among the stars. "You going to fly tonight?" a pretty girl tittered. "The moon's up." "I don't know. I had intended going up. I got the machine all ready before dark," he sighed. "It's standing lonesome-like on the lawn in the rear of the house." "Go on, fly." "Want to see me?" "Sure," she giggled. "Might as well, then," he answered, nochalantly. He strolled toward his home, a short distance along the road. The girl and a few other persons began to straggle after

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him, but stopped in an attitude of listening, while the aviator went on. In the dim distance an automobile was coming swiftly. "Melvin's father," Mrs. Warren breathed. "How could he ever get here so soon!" The roar of the automobile came nearer every moment. When the aviator began his flight, no one was interested enough to glance that way. All eyes were peering in the opposite direction. All ears were listening to the motor rushing madly into town. Its powerful, spreading light came closer every second, like a sunbeam in a whirlwind. The dusty machine jerked to a standstill. Melvin's young father leaned over, his hollow eyes on the nurse's face. "Well!" Quickly she told him, "Men have gone to get him. He was seen going up the trail to the peak. He took it into his head to visit his friend Jack."

"God," he sighed, a little of the anguish dying out of his face. He stopped the engine to hear better, and to ask questions. The moment the beating of the engine ceased, the whirr of the flying machine, in the air above their heads saturated the night. Mr. Ramsey, and simultaneously everyone else, looked into the sky. A horrified scream tore the air. Mr. Ramsey jumped from the car, shrieking. Caught by some sort of a band, a tiny figure was swaying beneath the airplane, with arms and legs extended as though swimming. "Melvin!" Mrs. Warren screamed, hysterically. "Oh, mercy," Mr. Ramsey groaned, clenching his hands. "Melvin! Melvin!" Astonishment, apprehension, horror, terror, was expressed on every countenance. Like madmen they shrieked and jumped to attract the attention of the aviator. While screams, shouts, revolver shots, and the automobile horn made hideous the air, the machine ascended slowly, serenely, majestically toward the calm moon. Mrs. Warren, now in violent tears, and Mr. Ramsey, aghast at his own helplessness, pleaded for suggestions. Abruptly the station agent wheeled round and rushed away. He dashed back with a dozen red lights, used for danger signals on the railroad. In panic haste he pvit them in men's hands. In a flurry they placed them certain paces apart and lit them. "He can't hear, but he can see," the agent bawled, above the din. The pale, uplifted faces turned grotesquely pink in the flaring glare. Like a fantastic, ruddy sunrise, it shook over the

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nearby country-side. Beyond it the moonlight lay cold like snow. There was a terrible hush of suspense. The child, in his perilous position, still swam in the flood of air. When the lights blazed their brightest, a trembling cry of congratulation came from the assembled throats. The aviator turned, dipped, and began to glide swiftly to earth. Over the strained faces in the crimsoned moonlight a spell seemed to fall. They bent silently like statues toward the oncoming machine. The airplane headed for a nearby field. Then the crowd, with eyes filled with anxiety, tears, hope, relief as in a wild nightmare, fled to reach it through the red glow. Melvin's father led in the leap over the fence to the field. Boys, girls, old men, old women came in a stream. They crawled, leaped, jumped, hopped and fell over the fence instead of opening the gate. Mrs. Jones ran out of her door with a pitcher of hot milk, and brought up the rear. Everyone was shouting something to Harry Jones. The instant the machine touched the ground Mr. Ramsey fellon his knees. "What's the matter?" the aivator was beginning, when the father began to tug at the little tied figure. "Holy smoke Mel- !

vin! I thought the town was afire." Mr. Ruehl leaned down to assist the shaking father. He pulled on the band that held the child. He reeled back a pace. "The holdback straps I gave him to play with this afternoon!" He hastily unbuckled them. Mr. Ramsey turned the child over and clasped him in his arms. There was a long scratch on his cheek, and his hands were cut and dirty. He opened his eyes, and through chattering teeth said, " 'Lo, papa." Trembling with repressed emotion, the father could not reply. Someone wrapped a shawl around the child. Mrs. Warren held a glass of milk to his lips. "Drink this, honey." Shivering, he drank it. "My son, what did you do such an awful thing for?" the man asked. — Melvin snuggled closer in the shawl. "It was c-cold But !

we never got there." ?" "Got wh— "Don't you know how-w Sinbad in the 'Rabian Nights tied — him himself to that big bird's foot, and found a val-valley of diamonds?" "Yes."

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"I wanted to see what there was in the v-a-1-l-e-y of the m-o-o-n." His head was drooping with sleep. He roused himself with an effort, shook the shawl loose, stuffed his little cold hands in his overcoat pocket, and drew out a pillow case. "If there were any nice diamonds I was going to bring some for ev-er-y-bo-dy." Aromas, Cala.

Greeting to the M. I. A. Officers *

By Elder Anthony W Ivins, General Superintendent Y. M. M. I. A. .

In behalf of the General Board of the Young Men's Mutual Improvement Association, I extend to you our heartfelt welcome to this city, and the activities of this Convention. We have come up here for a very serious purpose. We expect, of course, to intersperse pleasure with it, so far as that can be properly and legitimately done, but I suppose that never before in the history of the Church has a convention assembled which had more real problems, problems of greater importance to solve, than have we. I need not refer to them at this time. You who are familiar with the condition of the world, and who realize and appreciate the importance of the effort which we should put into the great movement for social, political and religious reform, which is so greatly needed in our country, as well as in other countries, know that our very best effort is demanded. This congregation is a splendid tribute to the faith of the Latter-day Saints. God bless you, my brethren and sisters. You who are assembled here, even though you stood alone in the world, inspired by the Spirit of the living God, and endowed, as you are, with the Holy Priesthood, are irresistible, though all the powers which the enemy of righteousness can bring to bear be arrayed against you. Truth is irresistible. The trouble has been that those who have held it in the past, who have stood for the truth, have gradually loosened their hold upon righteousness, until the world has submerged and absorbed them. Thank the Lord that condition is not to be repeated in our time. Therefore, my brethren and sisters, I look forward with absolute confidence to the triumph of the Lord's work, in which we are engaged. I pray that while we are together his Spirit may attend us, through Jesus Christ. Amen.

*Delivered at the opening meeting, Assembly Hall, Salt Lake City, Ju: j 11, 1920, 10 a. m.