Buchanan County bulletin. [volume] (Independence, Iowa) 1869-1891, 1872-03-01

an untimely drama. Perhaps they
called Andrew simply to give him
an umbrella or his mantle or his
overshoes, and the passionate tone
and tho tragic accent wero only
the results Of my ovcr.wrought inn
agination.
The spring following, it was nee.
essary for me to return to C..
Lawyers and lawsuits aud difficul.
ties Of every kind 50 absorbed me
that ! even forgot to inquire about
the white house and its inhabitants.
Free at length, I set out again for
. the station-this time in hurry.
Just before / reached the top of
the hill overlooking the white house,
I was stopped for . moment by .
funeral procession moving in the
opposite direction. The corpse,
covered by . vhiAs pail and deco
rated by crown of roses, was car
ried by young girls in white robes
with black sashes. Some men and
women in mourning followed. With
head uncovered and heart mute
with sypathetic respect, l stood out
close beside tho hedge. I over.
heard, during the passage, these
words exchanged, in whispers, be-
tween two Of those in the pro.
cession:
"And Andrcw?"
"They have written him-only, it
is so far; all will be over before he
even receives the letter. He will
return, but too late"
was just giving up to the temp
tation Of questioning the last of
the convoy when the town clock in
the ncighboring village struck clcv-
en-. Misericorde! More than half
an hour after the departure Of the
espress! But perhaps you are too
fast, my good villagers. No,
my watch marks the same hour.
was angry to think that, to sat.
isfy an idle curiosity, had missed
the train and inquietcd my family,
who well knew my exactitudc, and
counted upon it.
But it would be indelicatc for me,
3 stranger, to follow in the funeral
procession Of this poor girl. So let
them bury her in peace, where the
wicked cease from troubling and
the weary are At rest.
/ marched on rapidly, but in pas
sing the white cottage, whose porch
had been so secure . shelter for me
the preceding year, I cast my eye
about the place. The window from
which the voice was heard was
wide open the funeral odor of
chlorate Of lime exhaled from it
aud destroyed the sweet perfume Of
the lilacs. The gate was open also,
As if awaiting the return from the
funeral. Not living being was in
sight, except a black cat, which lay
basking in the sun.
arrived at the station Just in
time to catch . train. Then per-
haps my scruples of delicacy would
have given way to my curiosity if
! had found the means of gratifying
it concerning Andrew and those
who called him back too late. But
l was not to have the opportunity,
rs my companions were English
men, rude and naughty, who said
not word during the whole jour-
ncy.
I was very anxious to become &C.
quainted with Merry. had seen
his paintings in the Palais des
Champs Elysees-hsd been struck
by the genius they had exhibited
and by the sad, melancholic air that
seemed to surround them, and
wished very much to know the
artist. But he was almost always
travelling. At last I met him At the
house Of . friend. Isaw = young
man of medium hight, ofelegsnt and
refined carriage, blonde complexion,
light blue eyes, aphysiognomy very
intellectual and mobile, and smile
that illuminated his countenance
like ray Of sunlight. He sought
me out. By coincidence l had,
though little given to writing, put
An article in the Art Journal con.
cerning bis exposition of that year.
He was very much pleased with it,
and expressed himself warmly.
took his small, soft hand between
my great ones, and from that mo.
ment we were fast friends. Let
those who wish, laugh At sympathy
and friendship At first sight; va
knew from the first that We were
going to be friends.
In company, Merry was . charm
ing talker, full Of spirit and grsce,
having = memory well stored with
anecdotes, which he told in such a
pleasing manner that they were al
ways interesting, and often laugha.
bic. In private, he was affection.
ate, but subject to long fits Of
silence; given to rsveries aud
"brown studies." Al these times
his look became vsgus, his lips com.
pressed, his brows contracted, and
l have noticed him groan and trem.
BILE IS if he could no longer restrain
his pent-up feelings.
Naturally high spirited and even
irritable, he was alaays forgiving.
"Life is too Short" he would say
gravely, "to be spent in hating. -
Very industrious himself, he was
continually using his inAuepce to
make others so.
But he especially insisted that
when kind deed was to be done,
there should not be tho least delay.
''Dsath," he said, "comes at a'gal.
lOp, and enters without kn0ckfng.-
Who knows but that tomorrow the
heart you wish to make glad, may
cease to beat forever? Spare your
self then, if possible, the pain Of
saying, "t u too late"
He had remained for somo time,
constantly in Paris, in order to put
upon canvas, the innumerablo stud.
les he had made abroad. He took
an atelier on the same floor with
vnv n~,.. IL 49, r.~-.,>rA0,, n~x.L.--