The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1870-12-16
sea. Antoinc could net paciGy

. llGEs
BY and by she ceased 10 weep, amt
went about the cottage with drears
discOnsolatc air that cut Antoine tC
the heart. A long tailed paroquet
which she had brought with her il
the ship, walked solemnly behind hel
from room to room mutely pining, II
seemed, for those heavy orient airs
that used to rufIie its brilliant plum
age.
Before the year had ended he motto
cd that the ruddy tinge had fed from
her check, that her eyes had grown
lang id, and her slight figure more
Willowy than ever.
a physician was consulted. lie
could discover nothing wrong with
the child, except this fading and
/ dropping. lie failed to account for
/ that Itwas some vague disease cl
mind, he said, beyond his skill.
i So Anglice faded day after day.
/ She seldom left the room now. At
/ last Antoine could not shut out the
fact that the child was passing away,
/ He had learned to love her so.
'Dear heart" he said, "what is it
/ that ails thee? ?"
''Nothing mon PEREZ for so she
/ called him.
The winter passed. The balmy
spring air had come, and Anglice
/ seemed to revive. In her little bam-
boo chair, on the porch, she swayed
to and fro in the fragrant breeze,
with peculiar undulating motion,
like a graceful tree.
At times something seemed to
weigh upon her mind. Antoine no.
A Io
spoke.
'.Near our house." said little Ang-
lice, "near our house. on this island,
the paim-trees are waving under the
blue sky. Oh how beautiful! |
seem to lie beheath them all day long.
/ am very very happy. l yearned
don't you think so mon pcrc :"
"MOn Dieu, ycs." exclaimed An
toinc suddenly. "Lct us hasten to
palms arc waving
AnglicC smiled.
Il am going there, mon pcrc.'
Ay, indeed. \ week from that
evening the wax candles burned at
her feet and forehead, lighting her on
her journey.
heart empty. Death, like another
lie had nothing TO do but lay the
blighted flower away.
Pere Antoine made shallow grave
III his garden and hcaped the fresh
brown mold over his idol.
In the tranquil Spring evenings,
the priest was seen sitting by the
hi HvNo oil
read prayer-bOOk.
The summer broke on that sunny
land; and after ni9htfGiI, Antoine
fingered by the sgrave. lie could
never be with it enough.
Ono morning he discovered Il deli
cate stem, with two cUTiOusly shaped
Cmclald leaves, springing up from the
center of the mound. At first he
merely noticed it casually, but at
length the plant grew SO tall, was SO
strangely unlike anything hC had
ever seen before, that he examined ii
with care.
How straight, and graceful and cX-
QuisitC it was when it swung 10 and
fro with the summer wind, in the
twilight, it seemed to Antoine as if
little AngliCe were standing there in
the garden.
The days stole by and Antoine ten
ded the fragile root, wondering what
sort Of blossom it would unfold
white or scarlet, or golden, One
Sunday a stranger with bronzed and
weather beaten face like q sailors
leaned over the garden rail and said
to him-sswhat fine young date palm
you have there sir"
"AIon Dieu," cried Antoine, "and
is it palm :"
yes indeed, replied the man. Il
had no idea the tree would flourish in
this climate"
".Mon Dieu," was all the priest
could say.
If Pere Antoine loved the tree be-
fore, he WOrshiped it now, lie wa
tered it, and could have clasped it III
his arms. Here were Emile and Ang-
lice and the child, all in one.
The years glided away, and the
date palm and the priest grew togeth-
er, only one became vigorous and the
other feeble. Perc Antoine had long
passed the meridian of life. The
tree was in its youth. II no longer
stood in the isolated garden, for pre-
tenti0ns brick and marble houses had
crowded about Antoine's cottage.
They looked down scowling upon
the humble roof The city was edg-
ing up, trying to crowd him of his
land but he clung TO it like lichen
and refused TO sell.
Spectators piled gold on his door
steps, and he laughed anthem. Some
times he was hungry and cold, but he
laughed none the less.
Hnf lnI I
the old priests smile.
PerG Antoine was very old now
scarcely able to walk, but he could
sit under the plant caressing leaves
of his palm, loving it like an Arab;
and there he sat till the grimmest
speculatOr came TO him. But even in
death, PeTC Antoine was faithful to
his trust.
The owner Of that land loses it if
he harm the date tree.
And there it stands in the narrow,
dingy street, a beautiful, dreamy
stranger an exquisite foreign lady
whose grace is a JOY to the eye the
incense of whose breath makes the
air enamOred. May the hand wither
that touches her urgently.
because it grew from the heart of
little Anglice,' said Miss Badcau,
tenderly.
Shakespeare thought that CONVERSE
ton should be pleasant without
scuwiIity, witty without affection,
free from iIdecency, learned without
conceitedness, novel without false
hood. Rochefoucault said that to
hear patiently and tO'answer precisely
are the great projections of cOnver-
sati0n. One reason why VIC meet so
( few persons who are reasonable and
agreeable in conversation, is that
there is scarcely any one who does
not think more of what hG has to say
than of answering what is said to
him