Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1859-09-15
& Yeautiful gtory,
A BLIND MANS STORY.
Concluded.

C0nctnQeQ.
| ] bade the voice cease its upbraid
Iings.N | shut my ears against i
/ ordered my brother frem the room
For the first time in my life | va
harsh and stern with him. He ha'
a generous temper lido not thinI
he blamed me. he reproached him
self rather for speaking to me of
love from which my misfortune hat
shut me out forever. Begging mi
to forgive him, he went out from my
room. s
l shut the door behind him.
locked it. The key turned with &
sharp click. Then | threw myself
down upon the floor. as a travelle,
might PROSTATE himself before the
poison wind of the desert. Lying
there, this fierce, scorching simeon
swept over me. Unknown to my
sell, ] had been cberishing one sweet
flower to my heart, watering it day
and night. with the dew OF hope
1t lay tbsre now. torn up by the
roots, it's buds big ghted, its fair bios.
SONS withered.
Blind, helpless idiot! So the
voice in my heart had called me-
Alb, but the blind idiot could loue
Who else could pour such wealth oI
tenderness on one who could never
grow old to bis sightless eyes-whose
brow would always be smooth
whose hair would never lose its
brightness whose eye could never
grow dim, because forever he could
clothe her with the fair garment OF
his fsncy! And a new voice in my
heart answered, 81 am; worthy, for
love - With these words strength
came to me; and | rose up. and stood
erect in my darkened world, lonely
and grief-stricken, but still man.
was not one to inhict my sor-
rows upon others. strove to go
out into the world with a cheerful
face, But ! listened With tremulous
eagerness to every infection of Leo
mas voice when she talked with my
brother. knew she must love him;
but there was a curious fascination in
watching how this passion would
spring up in her pure heart--bow
the tenderness, whicE could never be
for me, would grow into her beloved
voice. Day after day it seemed to
me TO become full Of "a sweeter pathos.
Richard was constantly by her side.
Often they roamed together over the
fields. Sometimes they asked me to
go with them; but | was too sensi.
tive TO in,rude. ! always refused.
Once or twice, when l had declined
going, Leona insisted on remaining
with me, Then she would be so
cruelty kind TO me, read to me, talk
to me, and bewilder me with tortur-
ing glimpses of an impossible happi-
ness. Then Richard would come
back with a floral offering--a spray
of honoysuckle or a bunch Of wild
roses; and. sitting beside her aftel-
wards, smelt all day the fragrance
Of his flowers upon her bosom.
One night she asked me if she
might 60 alone with me to evening
prayers, as she used to do before
Richard came. 1t was a pleasant
walk, that half mile between our
house and the church, in the summer
sunset, with the trees over our heads
all odorsus with bloom. There was
a curious JOY. which was more than
half compounded of pain, in know
ing that she was by my side, in feel
ing the pressure Of her hand on my
arm. .s,..
When The services we're over, she
asked me to stay and play for her, as
| had often done before. Hitherto,
at such times, she had chosen the
tunes; but now the ft Of aspiration
vas upon me. / poured forth the
story Of my hopeless love. l used
no words, but the music explained
ITSELF 1t thrilled, it trembled, it
pleaded, i. despaired, it struggled, it
hoped; then, as ifior the dead, it wall
ed, and died out, at last, 10 a long.
hopeless cry Of sorrow. / heard
Leona sobbing. She stood at a lit
tie distance, alone in the darkness
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