Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1866-08-22
THE EVENING STAR.
THE THREE ROSES.
From Dickens Gan the y.a, por

prom Dickens Gan the Year Round."l
fsafs since, when we were chill dren, my
Inet .ooA lor me summer one OF the many
charming chalets by the Lake Geneva. II
PSeped from mass Of flowers like 0 ey- house
IN me centre Of a bouquet. The little hamlet
,,s me vicinity seemed built up at random,
p+rcbed high mp on the hills, was surrounded
shh towering shrubs. Ii was o kindly neigh.
ooIhoco, and all the residents visited my moth
ef on the spot Out of their families cam forth
my three especial playfelIows, Rose S.bille,
kose 0rahame, and Rose Fonnereau. As
wiite their names, they steal, with my departed
, yoS,n, Ike spirits 70 M, my , SIDE. Soon hear
walked except 10 church pattering and dane
ing up Tie garden ways.
J, Frank, vas the only representative of my
SCI among this merry band, was respected as a
Rrsatauthority and infallible reference aud had
my own way In everything. Our fayorite walk
wac 10 the eemetery, than which no palace
garden was ever richer in sweet DO vers LONG
bsfore we approached its sacred precincts. ne
air was laden with their fragrance. There was
nothing melancholy to us in that delightful
garden o. rest. We had never seen death. We
only felt we should be quiet, and not noisy and
syful there, as in the presence of something
holy. 1t was KIND Of church to as, and while
wereyerenced it as much. am afraid we en-
Sometimes we would come suddenly upou
black PROSTATE figures, still and quiet ike
every thing around; andrthe graves az which
we bad noticed these mute mourners had an
especial interest for tie time. IN
Our freEeh nurse, however, introduced US
70 tomb that had elancholy charm eyond
all others. Until we came, no flower or gar.
land had ever been placed upon IT, ONLY a
solitary willow sapIing had been planted there.
and that had died at once. There was a name,
Known 20 the world, and even to us; a date |.
and, deeply cut IN larger letters, the single
i remember that we all stood weeping by his
grave, as the nurse related TO the palriot's
story. All that summer, we laid fresh gar
n n hIS and hA+l A,r
not, never failed 70 wave an adieu 70 him as
we left the gates. '
That bright summer passed but quickly
away. We were often on the lake, sailing past
Chnlon, our great delight being to fraternize.
by friendly signs, with the prisoners therein
confined. There was something pleasantly
mysterious in their dark figures, half con-
eealed behind the iron bars. Once We had
In apparent answer to our amicable demon
STATIONS, a formidable- looking instrument was
protruded from the barred easement Were
ahey going to IRE upon usl No. Our boatma an
hamened TO assure rs IL was only fishing rod
pc of which was permitted by a paternai
g Bnment TO pass away the time. But a, no
tame did we ever observe a trout ascending 10
that lofty fishing.bank
Thus feeling, as am snre we did, the beauty
and grandeur of the scenes surrounding US,
tho without any artistic appreciation of them
We whiled away that happy summer until a
certain crispness and fippancy IN the breeze
that came from the neighborng hills re.
minded Us that summer delights were over,
MY mother prolonged her stay as much as
possible; but. one morning, behold our rose
nees bending under pure white robes OF snow.
days we were to go. We did what we could.
We suHenly made snow man, and so suc-
eessfuliy that we deemed him worthy OF the
name Of William Tell, and left him there.
"a King with his pebble eyes towards the crags
and peaks he loved so well.
For ourselves, we we're TO 90 TO a spo: where
snow was never seen, and there was suns hine
Tor my mother the whole winter long. Our
had 10 separate from my playfeilows. for nv
suggestion 10 take the three Roses with us was
oyerruled by the respective parents Of thoss
flowers as well as my own. We made a last
pilgrimage together 10 the grave of the s.Pros-
erit," and deposited thereon wreath of ever.
green's of prodigious size. while the three Roses
and my little sister-Rose Mary (who was,
however, too small to be regarded as a regular
Rose) mingled their tears, and these who were
to remain pledged themselves to remember
the .Proscrit for our sake,as well as his own.
will confess itl till we could cry no more. and
OF the many psrtings since, can recall but one
as bitter.
The only male friend 1 had left q: Clareps
attended my mother, and often took me as his
companion IN his long professional drives or
walks among the hills. He was full Of life. as
merry as boy, and glad Of any excuse TO run
Races and Jump bitches with me.
i correspOnded with him after our separa.
tioD, AZ first in round text ana a succession OF
abrupt sentences. always ending with ''my
love TO the Roses As time went on, had
more subjects OF interest to diIate upon. His
replies had a great charm for me, and, wnen
my mother died, his was the letter that
broke the dnli apathy OF griei into which had
fallen, and taught me a healthier sorrow.
You are ill.," he said. in his last letter; Il
believ- i can cure you. Leave London to-
morrow, and, accidents apart, be with me on
I obeyed; and thus, after an interval of lust
twenty years returned to Clarens
i found my excellent friend fatter than !
could have imagined Friends so often omit
TO mention the personal changes that are
taking place In them, and photographs Were a:
this time unknown. His hair was curiously
streaked with white, as Il he had dyed il with
an unsteady hand, but there was the same
KIND beaming face, and the grasp of his hand
was cordial almost TO pain. He had loved my
mother, and our first talk was all of her. In
sensibiy we glided into other teries-old scenes
ana adventures-until. At last inquired for
ssthe Roses"
s.They are all here-all here" he answered.
Rose Sebille, Rose Fonnereau, and-and Rose
Grahame; butt he added gravely, 1--we will
As we sat that evening in the familiar bal.
cony, looking on the blue lake, and glancing
every instant towards a chalet half buried in
trees and flowers. and fraught with so many a
sweet and sacred recollection, / learned the
story Of the first OF my three bright roses, Rose
r onnereau.
We could discern, In the twilight, q grand
old chateau frownipg down upon us from an
I'D accent hill, though to be literally correct, il
presently began TO shine and glisten in the
rising moonlight; as only Swiss chatteau can
knew il we'll, OF course-knew its feudal
history, its secret crypts, its torture tower its
dungeons. Ii had been. IN my time, the para.
disc of bats and boys-'ts dark recesses Offering
splendid faculties for hide and seek. knew
the horrible post, SCARED and scorched, TO
which victims in old times were bound while
hot Goals were applied TO their feet. Happier
times succeeding, the torture-ehamber b sd be-
come our chief piayroom, while the lower
prisons discharged the genial Office of wine
cellars.
Ten years before, Rose Fonuereau had be-
come the wife Of the yorsg heir Of this place.
The reJoicings had lasted three days-garla1ds,
nags, colored lamps, and fireworks turning
the little village into perfect fair. There was
music and dancing for the young and agile,
wine and other comforts for the poor, the in
imItahle cannon, whose voice is never mute in
Switzerland upon the ightest disturbance:
and thus was Rose Eoanereau, the beautiful
and beloved. conducted 70 her husbands
stately home. ~.
Rose became the idol of the house. She was
like q sunbeam that had found its way within
those sombre walls TO warm and cheer, and
not one escaped its Influence Her husband
had sole charge OF the estate, his father though
living, being in feeble health. But every wear
he went alone upon q rambling excursion ON