The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1872-06-13
PART III. NIGHT:
CHAPTER XII.
WHAT 1EkTMA SAYS.

Yet another month has smoothly Slid
den past, aud we are here still. We
know not how much longer We may
have to bide here; but, alas we do
know that when We go We shall not all
20 but that one Of US, whether we
will it or not, must stay behind. One
of US God has called, saying to her,
both in the dark night and 10 the broad
blue noon, "Come aud to that strong
bidding there can be said no "Nay.'-
This is an invitation to which we can
not say, II will not" or II will" Bid
den, one must 20. Thus our Lenore
is going. We say 60 now, and SO it Is.
At first, we did not breathe it even to
ourselves then, after while, each
whispered it low to her own sad heart:
noso, we say it aloud to one another.
We have been here ten weeks; the
summer, that we found in its first cool
youth, has now assumed the hot gravity
of its August ripeness. We have out.
lived many lovely dynasties Of the
flowers; have seen them arise and pros
per, and then sweetly die. O, flowers {!
give US = lesson teach US your way Of
dying, your gentle, unregretting ex'
tinction. Our Death Is cruel fellow !;
he is not content to take US with a
kindly mildness. Did be but stretch
out . friendly hand to us, some among
Us would not be over.loth to put ours
IN it, and go away with him whittier he
list. But he comes with his eyeless,
ash-grey skull-face with his racks and
scourges-can he blame US that We
shrink and shiver away from him p
Lenore has been looking him steadily
in the face now for long time past,
but still she shivers, still she pales, at
the sound Of his nearing feet. Lenore
is among those who 80, kno'0inq it.
Some depart smiling; ignorantly bab'
bling of fond home trides, with eyes
still fixed on earth's dear sunshiny hills
and plains. Overhead in the flood are
they plunged, Or ever they know that
they arc within sight Of its bank. But
Lenore knows. I am uncertain whether
We should ever have had the heart tc
tell her whether we should not
have let her slip into the next
world, without being aware Of it
For myself, l think it the kinder plan
I think that, to one whom God ha.
summoned, Himself will reveal it il
meet time, without the Intervention O.
any harsh human voice saying roughly
"You will dc" But, as you know, al
accident has revealed it to Lenore.-
Sometimes she forgets it for moment
sometimes the conquered spirit Of you'll
re.sserte itself !; sometimes she talk
gaily Of what she will do next gear
sometimes she rives our hearts by ma
king plans for the winter, whose snow
she will never feel, for the now.distan
spring, whose flowers will open upol
her grave. But it is only for ittl
while that the beautiful illusion lives
always it vanishes, as the cold dev
vanishes frou the fine, fresh morning
grass.
It is fearfully hot day, softly over
cast the keen mountain.air, cool ant
crisp, which so rarely fails from thes
high places, has gone to draw. ne'
sharpness from the SHOWS, and left u
gsspiog. A silent day, but for tn
loud rumblings of the thunder in th
great, grand bills.
! Sylvia sits in her bedroom, cryin
over the last volume Of a Tauchnit
novel, benevolently lent her by Mr.
Sorope, which makes her hotter STILL
Lenore lief, with heavy eyelids droope
over sunk eyes, on tho sofa in our sit
tiog.room ; it has been transformed, a
much as possible, into the likeness Of
couch, and drawn mp close to the wir
dow, to catch any stray little traveliu
breeze. Breathing is always difdcu
: to Lenore now, but to-day specially 81
.. I an sitting beside her, flaming her
She iexpresseda while ago sudden lon
ing for lemonade, as nice, cool drink.
ask Kolb to make me some, as it is
beverage that does not grow ready*mad
in these parts. Kolb's lemonade is pr
duced by pouring bot water on lemons
i've minutes ago it entered boiling.
have been pouring the whole stock