The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1872-04-11

Then, turning suddenly he lmlta-
ted the song Of the lark saluting the
morning. He put in it SO much of
tenderness that Theodore, with tears
in his eyes, stretched out his arms
and murmured, 90 Gretchen. |.
Come, come, Gretchen, my love
my joy! nv life! Gretchen, it is
my heart which sings for thee! It
is 1 who call thee!"
He leaned against the wall, his
head bent down, dreaming OF Gret-
chen, while Moss continued his
sweet, trembling notes.
Gretchen, in her light sleep, had
heard the quail, and thought it a
dream; then the growing Of the
cocks, and it seemed still dream;
then the noise of the hens, and her
eyes opened. No light came in at
the little window, and she turned
again to dream of Theodore. But
when she heard the Lark, when the
soft, trembling notes reached her
heart, she arose, gently saying
eyes, it is morning"
She slipped on her pretty dress
and turned to open the window.
Theodore had heard her move.
He started to escape; tut the mo-
ment the shutter was thrown back,
all his timidity vanished. He lean
cd in at the low window, and not
withstanding a low cry from the
young girl, seized her hand, 90
Gret hen, Gretchen" he said 81
love theel"
The moment he hal pronounced
the words he trembled violently.
Gretchen moved like a little dove
surprised in her nest, ands~with
blushing checks stammered softly,
"Theodore, dear Theodore!"
She could add no more, for father
Reebstock's shutter opened sudden
ly above the window, and out in the
night air came terrible oath, fol-
lowed by the words-"What do |
see here?'
Everybody was instantly constcr-
mated. Theodore and Gretchen fell
into each others arms, and then
separated, frightened ut what they
had done. Moss, his armsin the air,
ran swiftly away, making the cry of
Il duck escaping in the reeds from a
dog. He harsh, nasal voice sound
ed far herand farther away. He had
something to laugh about; but
Rocbstock did not laugh, and the
artist, crushing his hat in his hand
leaped over the fence and ran to-
wards the orchard, while Gretchen
trembling, closed her window quick
ly. A neigLbor's great dog, wakec
by the noise, barkel and shoko lis
chain.
Theodore walked the fields until
morning, repeating rs in dream
"Gretchen, Gretchen, love thee
Then, remembering Gretchen,s
words, "The odore, dear Theodore ~
he thought himself the happiest of
mortals.
About 5 o'clock he entered his
own hOus., and vainly tiled to sleep
us he remembered that Reobstock
had perhaps recognized him, and
might in future shut his door to him.
This thought gave him great un-
oasiness. The next day his sadness
bad much increased. 81 am tn
most unhappy person ia the world,
he said. "Old Reebstock will GER
tainIy do something terrible, 1t
may be | shall never zee Gretchen,
If could see her but once more
But l shall never dare even to pass
the house"
Descending the steps With his sad
thoughts for company, he walked
slowly along the street, hisey fixed
on the vane and The sign Of the
brewery, which he could sec
in the distance. Nothing seemed
to be changed. Everything went on
as usual. The herdsmen were pasa-
ing through the village, playing on
their bagpipos, aud followed by a
long line of goats and pigs; the
young girls were going to the
fountain, their pitchers in their
hands, and Kasper Moss, stretched
out Oh bench, before the public
house, slept quietly in the sunshine,
Theodore gradually approached
the brewery, his canvass on his arm.
He was 2 .ssing the door without
daring to turn his head, when he
heard loul,.voices calling.
"They are calling me-" he said.
The windows of the large room
were open, and already n good num-
Der were Mt the tables the burgo-
master Weinland, with his groat
red face, his large hat on tho back
of his head, his heavy cane between
his legs; the tailor thinner, in his
gray jacket, hi, nose besmeared with
tobacco, his green cap pulled over
his ears ; the little barber Spitz, his
pewter plate by the side of his bot
tie, his hair brushed up in pyramid
in the old French fashion, his loud
voice sounding through the room /;
these and many others. Old Berbel
was placing pans of curdled milk
behind the stove, and great sheets
Of sunshine, filled with notes, cover
ed the tables and seats.
Theodore entered, much agitated.
Father Reebstock, in his brown
coat with great steel buttons, Was
sitting near the clock, facing the
door Gretchen, who was looking
out the window, dropped her eyes.
The men were talking together.
Ali seemed as usual. But the mo-
ment the artist stepped over the
door sill Reebstock, raising his arm
towards him, cried out, Monsieur
Theodore, do you love my daughter
GralcLan ."