The River Falls journal. (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1857-1861, 1858-09-08

him as Ruth followed the reapers of
Boaz, and her gIeanings are often the fin
est of the wheat.
But it was in talking of Life that we
came most nearly together l thought |
knew something about that-that could
speak or write about it something to the
purpose.
To take up this fluid earthly being Of
ours as a sponge sucks up water,-to be
stopped and soaked in its realities as a
hide fills its pores lying seven years
in a tan-pit,-to have winnowed every
wave as a mill-wheel works up the stream
that that runs through the flume upon
its hoat-boards, to have curled up in the
keenest spasns and iattened out in the
laxest langunrs Of this breathing-sickness
which keeps certain parcels Of matter an-
easy for three or four score years,-to
have fought all the devils and clasped all
the angels Of its delirium,-a then Just
at the point when its white-hot passions
have cooled down to cherry-rcd, plunge
our experience into the ice-cold stream
Of some human language or other, one
might think would eud in a rhapsody
with something Of spring and temper in
it. All this | thought my power and
province.
The schoolmstress had tried life, too
Once in while one meets with a s:n glc
soul greater than all the living pageant
that passes before it. As the pale astron-
omor sits in his study with sunken eyes
and thin fingers, and weighs Uranus or
Neptune as in balance, so there are
meek, slight women who have weighed
all that this planetary life can Offer and
hold it like baublo in the palm Of their
slender hands. This was one of them
Fortune had left her, sorrow had baptiz-
ed her; the routine of labor and the lone
illness Of almost friend!ess city life were be-
fore her. Yet as | looked upon her tran
quill face, gradually regaining a cheerful
ness that was often sprightly, as she be
came interested in the various matters we
talked about and places we visited, saw
that eye and lip and every shifting Inca
ment were made for OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES
oftheir sweet office as yet, and meeting
the cold aspect Of Duty with the natural
graces which were meant for the reward
of nothing less than the Great Passion.
u never spoke one word Of love to
the schoolmistrcss in the course of these
pleasant walks. 1t seemed to me that
we talked of every thing but love on that
particular morning. There was, per
haps, q little more tinidity and hesitancy
on my part than I have commonly shown
among oui people at the boarding house.
In fact, I considered myself the master at
the breakfast table; but somehow, could
not command myself just then so well as
usual. The truth is, L had secured
passage to Liverpool in the steamer which
was to leave at noon,--with the condition
however, of being released i'll case cir
cumstances occurred to detain me- The
schoolmistress knew nothing about all
this, ofcourse, as yet.
1t was ON the Common that we were
walking. The mall, or boulevard of our
Common, you know, has various branch
es leading from it in different directions.
One of these runs downward from oppo-
site Joy Street southwark across the
whole length of the Common to Boylston
Street. We called it the long path, and
were fond of it.
felt very weak indeed Though Of a
tolerably robust habit as we came oppo-
site the head Of this path cn that morn
ing. I think tried to speak twice with
out making myself distinctly audible. At
last l got out the question, -Will you
take the long path with me Ger
tainly,-said the schoolmistress,-with
much pleasure.-Think, i sale, BIC
fore you answer; if you take the long path
with me now, I shall interpret it that we
are to part no more THE schoolmis-
tress stepped back with sudden move
ment, as if an arrow had struck her.
One of the long granite blocks used as
seats was hard blythe one you may
still see close by the Gingko tree,-Pray
sit down. Il said.-No, no,-she an
swered, sofIy,-I will walk the long path
with youl
The old gentlemen who sits oppc-
site met US walking, arm in arm, about
the middle Of the long path, and said,
very charmingly,-" Good morning, my
dears.