Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1860-02-18

III love to potlr out her whole being at
mortals feet, and ask for nothing un-
less 1t were for strength to keep her
modest secret.
"The youth she loved, passed her
by unnoticod; so many a man passes
by a true, noble heart, unread, though
the reading thereof might make him
wealthier than kings. No, Heinrich
had no love for Lotchen, no more love
than he had for the image of the Vir-
gin III the church wherein he Worship
ped: and where, too often, he stood
like an earth-reil between Lotchen and
Heaven.
'The girl loved him as a pious Cath
oEtc loves a saint-as Something holy
and above her, it was enough to hear
his voice at rare intervals, to snatch a
trembling glance of his face: and all
the while, industriously to hide herself
from MS notice. Her innocent love
knew no future; it only lived in the
present; she never thought that that
present could alter, or that anything
could take her idol from her gaze.
"But Heinrich departed, and with
him went trembling heart and every
9ulleless prayer that innocence can
frame. Lotchen grieved sadly, quiet
~, but not in despair; he would return;
ne had onl y gone to Heidelburg; he
would come back from he University.
with a world Of knowledge and sci
ence; and it would shine out in his
beautiful face, giving it fresh glory.
cline went by, news came that
Heinrich was betrothed to the rector's
daughter Lotchen wept, but Quiet
tears, tears that she thought no eyes
bat the angels could see; vet some one
spied them out. The some one was
a young girl, too-a school-fellow: hid
ing Lotchen's blushing face against her
own bosom, and winding her arms
round her like q sister, she drew otit
OF the filll heart all it had felt and suf-
Tered fer two long years-all the hap
pineSs 1t had known too-a happiness
whose light was now quenched in
tears. The friend spoke soft consoling
words to Lotchen, and left her to tell
the rest to Heaven.
Gone week later, there came a let
ter from Heinrich-a most loving let
ter, d!saoasing the young girls mind
as to the false report, and pouring out
all the soul of the writer IN love to o her
Heinrich loved her ! Then earth was
Heaven ! Oh, why did not the young
enthusiast carry her great .,Rapi5iness
straight to her mother and give her
half: Something withheld her; she
could not tell her joy to mortal ear.
"Her friend gently questioned her
Of her happiness, for her beaming
looks betrayed that she had a rich
store III her possession. Lotchicn only
answered, ''the rose tree in my garden.
which [ tEonght dead is in blossom,
and shall yet wear a crown ofits flow
erS : The friend asked no more.
"The timid girl tremblcd to answer
Heinrich's letter, bat he had so entrca-
ted for q reply, that she oyercame her
tears and wrote to hin-all her love :?
No, not thousandth part, but still
something that let him read the first
page Of her virgin heart. Then her
lover wrote again and acain-warm.
glowing, impassioned letters, yet kept
within bounds by the remembrance of
that pure heart into which he was pour
ing his soul. He must be absent vet
year, but at the end Of that time his
studies would be completed he would
leave heidelberg, and fly to his loving
Lotchen.
The year Of happy waiting was
gone, Heinrich came home TO Mann
helm, but he passed Lotchen by with
q cold greeting A fair young bride
hung on his arm, and-Lotchen died
died. Died when at length she
knew that all the impassioned letters
she had received were .forgeA 5y ter
Jr5e''d's hand for her .1riends sport:
and that her trusting answers, wherein
her soul was written, had been shown
about Mannheim among Lotchen's ac-
qualntance. Peace to thee, Lotcien.
Sleep well. Slain by II soonaaas's ante
sisters haua.
"Ah, young hearts, you will weep,
many Of you will weep for Lotchen's
true story. Never, then, sport with
another Woman's feelings, let her be
sacred IN your eyes, as your own moth
er's daughter.
Il wait to tell you more, but tears
are IN my old eyes, dinning them
more than age, and tears are yelling
up III my heart for the lost companion
OF my early days, now mouldering in
the grave. my sweet, gentle, loving
Lotchen."