East Saginaw courier. (East Saginaw, Mich.) 1859-18??, 1859-12-15

|
Just twenty-five, sir" I replied, rath
! er surprised at the question.
'You will not be dependent on you
, brush, my boy continued my father, a
he leaned on my arm and looked back a
the lofty mansion we had just left.
have been neither wasteful nor unsuccess
full, and it will be my pride to leave yo'
a respectable income at my death
l inclined my head in silence, and won
dercd what would come next.
'Burgomaster Won Gael is one Of m,
Oldest friends said my father.
Il have often heard you speak of him
sir replied.
and he is rich
80 / should suppose
Gertrude will have fine fortune, said
my father, as if thinking aloud.
bowed again, but this time rather
nervously.
Marry her, Franz
/ dropped his arm and started back.
'Sirp l faltered Il i marry the
Fraulein Won Gaelp
'And pray, sir, why not? said my faith.
er curtly, stopping short in his walk and
leaning both hands upon the top of his
wallSing-stick.
l made no reply.
why, not, sir !? repeated my father
very energetically. 'What could you
wish for better? The young lady is
handsome, good-tempered, educated, rich
Now, Franz, if / thought you had been
such fool as to form any other attach
ment without
%, sir, you do me injusticep / cried
Indeed, know no one-have seen no
other lady. But = do you think that
that she would have, sir?
TRY her, Franz said my father good
humoredly, as he resumed my arm. IF
| am not very much mistaken, the bur-
gomaster would be as pleased as myself;
and as for the fraulein-women are easily
won.'
We had by this time rca ,hcd the door
of the inn where my father was to sleep
for the night. AS he left me, his last
words were: TRY her, Franz-try her.
From this time / became frequent
visitor at the house of the Burgomaster
Won Gael. 1t was large, old-fashioned
mansion, built of red brick, and situated
upon the famous line of houses known
as the Boompjes. In front lay the broad
shining river, crowded with merchant
vessels, from whose masts futtered the
flags of all trading nations of the world
Tall trees, thick with foliage, lined the
quays, and cast pleasant shade, through
which the sunlight hickered brightly
upon the spacious drawing-rooms of
Gertrude's home.
Here, night after night, when the
studies of the day we're past, / used to
sit with her beside the open window, and
watch the busy passing crowd beneath,
the ripping river, and the rising moon
that tipped the masts and city spires with
silver. Here, listening to the accents of
a distant ballad-singer, or to the far MUIR
mur of voices from the shipping, we
read together from the pages of our
favorite poets, and counted the first pale
stars that trembled into light.
1t was a happy time. But there came
at last time still happier, when, one still
evening as we sat alone, conversing in
unfrequent whispers, and listening to C
beating of each others hearts, / told
Gertrude that l loved her; and she, in
answer, laid her fair head silently upon
my shoulder with sweet confidence, as
she were content to rest forever. Just
as my father had predicted, the Burgo-
master showed every mark of satisfac-
tion, and readily sanctioned our betrothal,
specifying but one condition, and this |
was that our marriage should not take
place till my twenty-fifth year. 1t was
long time to wait; but / should by that
time, perhaps, have made a name in my
profession. l intended soon to send a |
picture to the annual exhibition, and who
could tell what j might not do in three
years to show Gertrude how dearly |
loved her
And so our happy youth rolled on, and
the quaint old dial in Messer Won Gacls
tulip Garden told the passage of our
golden hours. In the mean time, /
worked sedulously at my picture; Ilabored
upon it all the winter; and when SPRING
time came, / sent it in, with no small
anxiety as to its probable position upon
the walls of the gallery. 1t was a view
in one Of the streets of Rotterdam -
There were the high old houses, with
their gables and carven doorways, and
the red sunset glittering on the bright,
pancs Of the upper windows
the canal, flowing down the centre of the
street, crossed by its white drawbridge,
with a barge just passing underneath
the green trees, spreading long even.
ing shadow across the yellow paving Of
the roadway, and the spire of the Church
Of ST. Lawrence rising high beyond,
against the clear, warm sky. When it
was quite finished, and about to be sent
away, even Hans van Roos NODDED cold
and said that it deserved
\ good position. He had himself pre-
pared painting this year, on more
scale, and larger canvas than
usual. 1t was sacred subject, and rep
resented the Conversion of st. Paul.
His pupils admired it warmly, and none
more than myself. We all pronounced
i to be his masterpiece, and the artist
was evidently Of our opinion.
The day Of exhibition came at last
had scarcely slept the previous night;