The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1868-11-05
ANTAGONISMS.
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~ AUGUST BILL.

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IT AUGUST 1xLL. q
I hate the girl who sings I'D a
ohoir-she almost spoils. N.Y. ssledays
Our church j. !. beautiful aoe. biel,
arched, asure.rooted-and psisl lint
faces and little winged ohersbs Idol
down from every window, vitt sss4,
masses Of ruby and purple - ls ].
background. And when thS dssp.
voiced organ is silent, and oaF sscso,
rises to read the sw ct solemS Rjbls
words, there is something sout compel.
ling in tit makes ono grow god and
strong, I think. Then tho lnthens,
but there comes in the altoI Nov,
l have heard altos. low, clear, md Pow.
erfal, with a rare sweetness in thsm,
not like this at all; it is low, esar, aud
powerful to be sure, with som4 81 all
pervading in1 u that cant be- iaSRsp 81.
but it is disaelsssble, no 1i' dsks1ey, no
sweet eubtlety about il, "a vefY earthly
alto. And I have queer b1n) -
souls which can disguise shed1 ut ,.
Fterly in ooma,5n life aud .pe,eh, ,.ill
yet find betrayal in singing Is quiet
Miss Moore, whom nobody SC. .our ,l
'oprano-~hen she renders lsr pars il
the singingi in that lott, thrilling, truth
full way that her voice has, / do hon. j..
age to her. And when tho alto sounds
with no sweetness and . little coarse :
ness, which nevertheless attracts, 1 fesl
.s it 1 must defend myself' somehow
from foe. - rI,
Only yesterday morning I sat in
church with Lou Winter o. q one side,
and Fred Brown on the ot6sr-and /
was looking up at . little winged head
in the chauc.l window With Is crimson Il
heaven around it, till I fell as Il I had
wings too, and my soul sang Bein.dieite.
But just then the choir began to .ise
it themselves, and the alto Jared on nv
peace. l looked around Il Lou! Win
tors, she did not once lit her earnest.
gray eyes from her pr.yer.book. l
looked at Fred Brown, and he Va, look.
ing up into tho singing:galle,y When
We came out Of church, the girl With
tho alto voice looked straight It Fred,
and he at her. A few minutes after
hs asked carelessly: ..e.,<
""ho is the little blok-eyed gypsy
up in your choir ?"
I did not feel like answering, and
Lou said quietly:
ut j. Miss Marion Wood. ; dow do
you like our church, Nj. Brown"
And directly they began to discus.
architecture. =, ....:..
1t there is one thing in Lou Winter
above another that I admire, it is her
oomposure. Now I fnoxn the minute
I'm vezed' and say sharp bitter things
TO people dislike. md I stand 70
= ;. .and fef syes grow gloomy
when there's to lsa3l thing % rss,.ot,.
..nd l resent everything. 1 tear
'n'ng' too sometimes ; upstai1s in .
box is a blue FASH all 10 fragments, me.
mento of a passion. Blu. Lou, She.
superior to everything she looks a
tnte sad or serious sometime, but she
goes right on, and never let's people
know when they kill her happiness. I
don't know which way is best, We have
ut either Of us saved ourselves from
sorrow,-ws haven't either Of us saved
ourselves from Marion Wood.
My brother Will came home from
college two years ago, my daring, i'm
pulsive, truthful brother Will. And
he ought to have fallen in love with
Lou, a when he was 4 boy he always
declared he would do. 1 think Lou
loved him then, but if I think 80, it is
not because she ever told me, onlv she
never loved anyone else I am sure. Il
1 used to praise her to Will in my ear.
nest needless way be knew we'll enough
what 1 meant, AID laughed At me-
Lou is pure pearl" I told him once.
'Yes," he said, "but Marion il daz-
Eling rubyw
Then it was Marion Wood first tan
gled the threads Of my fate, and they
ne not free Of her yet.
So Will would call on Marian three
Or four times in 4 week, and on Lou
perhaps once. I was half vexed at Lou
for not Attracting him more, but she
vas too proud to contend with Marian.
That summer We had an excursion,
'ne lovely August day, large party Of
Us going in boats to 4 town . few miles
down the river, for tho sake Of seeing 4
launch. Lou came to 60 with me, so
Will carried our shavls, and he could
At but look admiringly At the sweet
little face 50 roey and pretty under her
straw hat. He was really quite devo-
Ted all tho time We were sailing down
The river. He made a throne for her
'n great coil Of rope upon the deck
md threw himself at her feet, content
70 win now and then ono of her bright