Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1860-08-30

The shadow came on, from the gradually-dimin-
ishing light Of the progressing eclipse, with o
startling suddenness. When the shadow was on
them, the party saw a beautiful array of colors
-leaden, copper, rudy, golden. We quote the
Evening Traveller: "Below, the bold cliffs were
of a dark blush green. The whole spectacle wac
grand and beautiful. A newspaper, to be read,
must be brought within four inches Of the eye,
the light being much less than the twilight at
midnight"
The coast of Labrador, Prof. Barnard said, was
desolate in the extreme. No human beings, very
little vegetation, one solitary black bear, q few
ducks, some bones, o world of mosquitoes, and
one mateless singing bird that made the desola-
ton %lonelier by it's sweet tones amid that silence
and gloom. The Professor says: "The whole
scene presented q grand and almost sublime
Golgotha."
They saw icebergs, and a~uroras, and three
kinds of mirage.
Glimpses Of an Untold Past.
SCENE I.
IDA. (A0straetedly.)
Years-years-
So long2. You have not seen him, then,
Since he departed first so strangely; since
IT'S ten years now-he left position, place,
And prospects promising, to seek a.
IDA.
What?
FLORENCE.
Perhaps-for we could never well decide
Perhaps, q name or, wealth, on some unknown
Or visionary scheme ; or, else-(Hesitattng.)
IDA.
Else, what2
FLORENCE.
"Else vhst" You emphasize so strangely that
I start. Well; else to seek, it may be, love.
Love L?
FLORENCE.
Yes; or, had he loved before, perhaps,
In distance, solitude, or strife, he sought
A balm to some unpublished wound his heart
Had known. He sought, it may be, peace.
IDA.
Sought peace?
FLORENCE.
Yes, Ida, peace which you deny to be
The constant inmate of domestic holds;
Such peace as, Ida, you were signing for
An hour ago. You called it rest-how was
It?-Yes, you called it sprit.rs,t.
IDA.
Yes-yes;
Repose of spirit-rest of soul-surcease
OF signing for a nameless quest-a dream
A something
Yes; twas wrong. Forgive
Me, Floy. 1 will not start again such thoughts
To shade your rill-like flow Of soul, so like
Our girlhood's gushing hopes-so like what life
Indeed might be-like life once might have been.
But, say how runs the note hc sent? have
Forgotten what you read. He writes p
FLORENCE.
That be will spend his evening here. He says:
ain tribute to the past" How like himself
That phrase I'm tribute to the past. He has
Not learned that you are here, whom he as well
As 1 knew in those gladstone other days.
Well note the start of glad surprise with which
He'll greet your unexpected presence when
He comes. As soon as eight we may expect
Him here. How long is't, Ida, since you saw
This Grant figbty Edgar, now!
IDA. (!A6shactedly and slovly.)
Years-ysars-
1 said. 1t may be ten. lido forget.
1t seems an age and yet, reduent thought
Brings back those days to ~this-those hours to
this
Those hopes to-Pardon, Floy. Let me retire.
IT'S seven now. l will rejoin you here,
And greet with you your promised visitor.
So, au reuoir at eight. (Retires.)
FLORENCE. (Sola.)
Strange. fancied wife!
She often seems the sport Of something like
Let's see-ofsomething like our girlhood's dream
OF love. Her manner changes when upon
This theme. Her gentle air, subdued and kind,
Gets vehement and Eighty. Never till
This evening seemed she quite so hurried off
By something uuexpressed-like memory.
And yet, she's neuer sad. (Retires.)
COLUMBIA, s. c. J. v. u.