The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1873-08-21
LAWYER MARSHAL'S COPYIST.

YOU be content and allow matters to re-
main as they are? Why will you talk of
love, when | hike you so much and want
YOU for friend and brother always Z
And Bertha Lynde, wilful little beauty
as she was, shrugged her shoulders, and
tapped her tiny foot in amused vexa-
tion
The buyish face. and broad high fore
head of the youth before her flushed with
instant pain at her slight reproof, but
seeming to control himself by slight eff
fort, he replied calmly, while the color
slowly forsook his face, leaving it very
pale.
Bertha we are no longer children"
he said, " we have grown up from infan-
cy together, and | have learned to look
upon you as part of my existence. But
the time has now arrived when we must
think of other matters than childish
pastime. You are fast approaching wo-
manhood, and II must go out into the
great bustliDg busy world to strive to
win myself name and fortune. Bertha,
l want something to encourage me In
the struggles [ shall be forced to en-
counter, and that something is the as
surance of your love, not sisters love,
not friends love, but love purer. deep
er, more fervent and enduring love.
Give me this assurance and III ask no
more until I have reached position
which will equal the one you occupy.
You are the petted daughter of rich
parents friendless, penniless orphan.
I am going away to seek my fortune, and
| ask you again if you will grant me the
greatest boon crave for in this life.
With an impatient movement she turn
ed from him and replied:
$ Frank, you're enough to VeX
saint, am not going to assure you OF
any such love as you talk about. I'm
sure sisters love ought to satisfy you,
and you ought to De thankful for that.
The proud mouth of the boy quiveTed
little with suppressed emotion.
But l am going away, Bertha, you
may meyer see me again in long years to
come.
Il don't care if [ meyer see you again, "
she answered, now thoroughly vexed that
he should thus tease her for so she con-
sidered his entreaties.
Bertha, darling, you don t mean just
that oh you don't mean that !" he
cried.
Yes, dol Why shouldn't, when
you yex and annoy me all the time? ?"
she pouted.
Then farewell, Bertha God bless
you, ana he turned away.
Are you really going Frank, right
away %
Yes, | shall tarry only long enough
to visit the graves of my father and
mother-they will be sadly neglected in
coming years tear, and then l shall bid
farewell to these familiar scenes forever.
Good bye my darling--sister-good bye"
He was gone, and as Bertha Lynde
stood in the bright May sunshine, it
seemed to her as if everything had grown
suddenly dark, cold and cheerless-as if
light had gone suddenly out Of her ex-
istence, leaving her heart desolate aud
dreary. Poor child She had yet to learn
that the cup of bliss if often dashed from
our lips by our own hands.
Days and weeks passed away and the |
people of that busy village missed from
their midst the gentlemanly fellow, who,
with such native dignity had performed |
many acts of mental labor for them, that
they almost lost sight of the fact, that he
was friendless, an orphan, and poor.
The boys of the village academy miss
ed him-they were rid of a dreadful rival
in their studies, and the principal mer-
chant of tie town (Mr. Lynde), missed
from his store faithful valued clerk.
But most of oil Bertha missed him.
She had not seen him after he had turn
ed away from her with such grieved
expression on his face as his lips MUIR
INJURED the words darling-sister- good
bye" She had hoped he was not really
in earnest after all but he was gone
now when she had loved him so all the
line, and she might have told him so if
the had not been so willfully perverse,
md then she might be sure of his re-
turning some day." she murmured to
herself.
People wondered what had caused
hat little spirite, Bertha Lynde, to be-
come SO suddenly grave and womanish,
but she only read the secret from ber
hearts inner pages. as she daily visited
he graveyard and with tenderest care
,ourished and tended the flowers she
had planted upon the mounds so sacred
o him-her playmate, compartment friend
md lover.
Months and years passed; and now as
Bertha, no longer q thoughtless child,
put grave, sad, pensive woman, looked
Jack upon the scenes of girlhood, 1t
eemed to her like the memory of some
-ague dream, and her boy-lover crea-
ion of fancy. Still she knew that the
picture drawn b. memory's faithful
PENCIL was true to the life, for. there was
he grave which had been so saoredly
egarded by the absent wanderer--so
aithfully watched over by her ever since
lis departure. which was now years
CO."
She could not quite acknowledge to
erself that she had loved that boy, and
ct in all these years her heart had re-
,ained untouched by love for any other;
he thought of him still as its dearest
beet.
At length her father became confident ,
,at he could multiply his fortune oy
moving to the metropolis and ehsag
Q in business on more extended scale. :
e did so, and for while was successful,
It by-and- by reverses came; his expert
oa and IL III were insufficient TO shield s