The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1872-05-02

PART IlI.-NIGHT:
Goodnight, good sleep, good rest from sorrow,
To these that shall not have good morrow;
Ye gods, be gentle to al these.
? Nay, II death be not, how shall they bot
Nay, is there help in heaveni it may be
All things and lords of things shall cease"
CHAPTER I.
WHAT TIE AUTHOR SAYS.
After .Life's hot dsy, comes Death's s
sl Long, cool night; whether Of the two is
IpIeasauter? !? Well, we shall know anon.
Oh! patient friends, you have come
with me 50 far. come with me yet lit
tie farther. l will not keep you, long.
Already the shadows sketch themselves {;
the faint-colored even cometb. Summer
is here again-early summer, early
June, as Is when first, o reader, you and
l met and painted together; through the
"eudless days." when even ven night
brought not darkness: Down in Eng.
land, the meadows have a lilac tinge
lover them, from the ripe, heavy.headed
grasses, and the borse.chestnut fowes's
spikes have changed into little prickly
green balls. Bit we are not in Eng
land, 0 reader, you and ; We are in
Switzerland, in the high cold valley Of
Engadine. 4.:~
:" WHAT JENNA SAYS.
We are at the end of our days jour
ney, have stifly descended from the
huge dusty carriage in which we have
crampedly sat all the long and shining
day. Tomorrow we shall reach our
6nal destination, Pontrestina. Mean
while here va are, up among the noun
taios, the torrents, the pines, at this
lovelisst village Of Bergun. An hour
has passed sicce our arrival, and we
have diued, if you can apply that sacred
word to the empty form Of tapping with
our knives q black. boned chickens
skeleton, and slipping a uauseous wine
of the country, black as Tartarus, and
with favor that is agrceably com.
pounded Of pills, slate.pencil, and ink
There is no denying-degrad,ng as il
is to the supremacy of mind over body
that bad dinner has depressing
effect. Not one Of US three but feel.
GROSS and empty. Sylvia tries to si'
upon hard-bottomed, straight-backed
chair, as if it we're one Of her own pad
ded easy ones, and fails. Lenore stalks
to the window and looks over the bal
cony. Think that people grow afte'
they arc thought grown up, oftene,
than is usually supposed. Lenore has
certainly grown within the last 81,
months, or perhaps it is only her los
Of flesh that gives her such tall look
She used to have good deal OF tn,
shspely solidity that constitutes per
sons claim to be fne woman-rathe
butchers term of commendation, a
best-shspely she must always be, bu
ioe she is no longer only very, slende
and w'llowy. ! pick Up the vis'tor'
book, read the dreary waggeries, II
lame rhymes, the consequential CON
mendations Of bed aud board. com
to the last entry: : -
"Mr. m, Tomtine, London: ~ :. :
"Mrs. Tomkins,
Miss Tomtins, 49,"
"'Misss Viz L Tomkins, 49,.
"Mr: J.T, Tomkins, -. ~. - =.
miss Harris "
sMExceedingy pleased with the az
eommodation at this ,botel-the attend
ance excellent, rooms most clean, an
food better than al aniyy other hotel j
the Eogadiqe:'' ~ 'SFS f. 'ass's
| Tread this aloud. = - > F'5f'
"There Is prospect for su,s v' ''27
/ "You are not serious p cries syl,i:
starting upright in her chair, ;, and open
ing eyes are round as marbles in una
tected dismay: '|That is not reall
there You are only Joking p
''Read for YOURSELF" I answer, hand
ing the book to her, while I joined ou i,
juuior in the windov.a- Well, ono mus
send all appetite to ones eyes j.; there
at least plenty Of food for them. Tn
peerly evening sky, cut by the cold lila
| peaks ; the mountains, that wear a
weys round their waist and feet .girdl
Of great pines; som6ro array-risloe
pointed top above pointed top, in thei
endless, fadeless green ;the rough tor
rent.course, that furrows the hills fact
like the traces Of q. fearful agony J.. a
evening glimmer Of meadow flowers, !;
flash Of bright water. :. And right un
der ,us the little village street, the deel
rooted low houses, tiny easements, GU
Of which. the lavish picks and fowere,
pico.ees are hanging the queer sente1
tious inscription on the chalet neares
US:
"DAs HAus sTEr In GorTEs HAM
JAN PEDER GR1aoR1
BIN IcH GENAND."
land is not that Jan Peder himself, 81
ting outside, on a log Of wood? He
old and withered, and very N uch ii
worse foE wear. .~s