The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1867-06-27
The First Love and the Last,

The First Love and the Last.
From cas.eelrs (Lomdon) Family Paper.
1t is an old story I am about to tell :;
that story which, thank heaven! people
never tire Of listening to any more than
wc do of. seeing the buds swell and the
leaves unfolding, and the world made
young again BY the coming of spring
the story, to which as we listen, our
own youth comes back, and once more
the flowers bloom, and the skies are
blue, and our hearts are beating joyous
Iy, and it is May.
1 am not young now, neither is the
day on which -am soberly writing this
little record Of along past period a
balmy one Of spring, or anything ikei,;
aud yet May comes back t, me as I re-
call that day of which am going to
speak.
A lark was singing far up in the blue
sky. few sheep ware pasturing in the
green distance, and tall figure dressed
III gray, with gun on its arm, and one
u two dogs friskiug about it, was CON-
ing leisureIy along the sea wall I had
been fully intent but the minute before
upon the sketch of a boat I was max
ing; but now l felt the beating of NY
heart, and saw nothing but Mark Suth-
erland coming lcisurly along the sea
wall: with his dogs playing about him,
The little picture was never finished.
for at the instant l became conscious #
the, advancing figure, dropped my
brush, and hopelessly ruined my dis
tance by great. smear Of vankyke
brown. 1t was never finished, no-but
I have it yet, and mean it shall be
laid beside me- in my coffin.
He was a long way off when I first
saw him, and yet it seemed almost the
next instant that he was standing be-
side me speaking. My heart had not
left off bea ting, and l could feel the
color hot in my face as I looked up, but
my fiery little terrier took exception to
his dogs, and, few at them with tumult-
uous d'sapproval taking his attention
from me for the moment.
When this little fracas was quieted,
be put bis gun on the bank, made his
retr,evers lie beside it, and sat down
himself beside me.
"Rave you had good srort?" I ask
ed, b. way Of saying someth'og-any-
thing.
"No," he answered, "but I don't CON-
plain. l didn't expect any. l came
"ut here because l thought should
see you, and wanted to tell you piece
Of news and ask question -
1"Sews is precious commodity, .in
deed, in these wiIds, but please remcm-
Der my Scotch blood, in expecting an
answer to the question"
He did not seem to be attending to
what l said he had taken up one Of
my brushes and was absently playing
with it, and he threw it dowr the next
minute, and said softly:
chester, I have got an appointment
that have been trying for, and shall
| leave for India next month--that's my
| news"
My heart, which had been beating so
wildly, seemed to stand suddenly still
and drop downtown. The water
and green marsh rocked, blending
oazily into each other and the sky, and
then voice that sounded dim and far
Fl, but was ,uy own, too, said, 1T is
good news, I suppose ?"
"Good news! Well, yes, I hope So
He stopped minute here. His voice
was very deep one, for he was large
broad-chested man but when he spoke
sgain it had soft undertone in it tha,
tried to ring in my ears atterwsrls--i'
does now. 49,. 49,.
II thought it good news this morn
ing, for without it I could not think of
| wife. That troubled ME little enough
till lately-tlll, ah till l knew 20,
Hester. My dear, think you hav,
guessed my question:"
Guessed it! All, yes. But my fac
vas down npon my hands; he coul'
not bear the cry that was sitting in m,
heart, and he went on gently, plying
y--
"But l shall not get an answer to i
So Will you 60 with me to India p,
l did not answ er--l could not. All
those who have had determination to XII
their own happiness, to raise up them
selves the barrier that shuts them ou
from hope, and love, and life, will kno'
how hard it is--will pity me.
"Will you be my wife, and go wit
me to India ?"
. II cannot" And no wonder tn.
J he made sudden movement Of su
prise, for myself wondered to he;
the hourse passion Of my own voice.
"You cannot! What a fool I ha,
] ben then lhopcd-I hoped Heste
!. . is it possible that you have not know
!, what I have been thinking of all tn
tin,e?"
: Knowing what he had been thingi,
about! All! the 'igh and life, u,
4 joy Of those moments when I had d,
!. ed to hope that did, All! the a
= % guish Of feeling now that they h
ID been in. vain. D. =. ><c1s~s
80 "Look at me, Hester; I don't thi
I understand you, my dear,"'. he ..