Wilmington journal., 1875-12-31
fee for the cherished reiuvenation O


humanity.
AS he entered the chamber, the moor
shone clear and calm into the face o
the sleeping maiden. Often hss he &c
E watched her innocent slumbeD,;I. h,,.
q nightly returned from b'1]aIo5 60
surely not often had raoaf1,I on IN
oeauuiui as no%:s1y v over her head ;
was thro"u caam was freed from the
the snowy he couch, while it gently
pd fell; the long eyelashes rest
rossn the fair cheek with tue pura
,lsfumber of girlish innocence. He
| gazed but moment on the fair vision,
lest its beauty should move his pater
nal heart to begrudge the sacrifice.
''Zltella Zitell p cried he, witt.
nervous haste. awake, my child !!
there is but one thing lacking to crown
my life -labors with success in that.
thine aid is needed. but it may be a
| dangerous experiment for thee
HAS the revelation been declared ?"
| asked the alchemist's daughter, seem
| ing to overlook the last sentence ell
| tirely.
'It has, my child, and at the hour
of twelve precisely" rather triumph
antly responded the old man. 1T is
in obedi nee to it I have called thee.
Hast thou strength to undertake this
experiment /? It's end will be glorious,
but its accomplishment may hazard
thy very being"
Il should be TO Spanish maiden
did the question of a few more hours
of living infuerce my actions" an
swered the daughter. with an air Of
lofty pride. Spoken like my child r.
raptuously cried the old aichemist.
Come below with me-"
With nervous haste, the old man led
the way to the low laboratory. In her
loose neglige garments, pale in her
night virgil, her long hair bound care
le ssly up over her shoulders, with an
air of conscious heroism. the Spanish
maiden followed her father.
Arriving there. the old man paused.
A deadly sickness came over him as he
made the preparations for the sacri
flee.
"Why do you tarry, father ? i'm
patiently cried the daughter.
The alchemist rallied.
'.Now, my child, do you lean over
this crucible, and blow through this
tube !; your breath shall thus M
pregnate the mass, and give to it ii
being"
The girl boldly took the tube; the
father watched; the moment her fair
bosom was over the heated crucib:e |
vas his moment to strike. He could |
see the rising charms of youth heave |
with the respiration Of the maiden
should he bury to the hilt the hidden |
knife? He must else where were
the hopes of humanity? He raised his
arm
the laboratory. He looked-his daugh-
ter was gone, no trace of that young,
fair firm which had gladdened the
gloomy studio, remained. Iu despair,
he burst open the door, and ran to her
room.
Was it dream, Or was it the daugh
.er of his early love which lay before
lim, on the self-same couch, in the
3elf-same position, where he had found
ler, it seemed, years ago q? That was
10 dream-that long, dark hair that
ay disheavened over the snowy pillow
md tue scarcely less snowy breast ,
The old m ans heart leaped for Joy;
lis daughter was yet alive. From the
olindng and bewildering explosion of !
he alchemist's laboratory, like the
Phoenix from its ashes, had the fair {
presence arisen, which was now in the !
lumber of pure maidenhood before !
i'm. Lost in rapture and bewilder- f
ng JOY, he clasped her neck. The sell r
ishness of the many years he had So {
'iuded himself from the only being p
Who had ever loved and cared for him .
he paltry worth of the yellow dross as /,
ompared with the pure gold of her |
PRICELESS love, arose in self condemna-
ion before him, and he gasped out t
My daughter-oh, my daughter !" !
'hen ali was dark, and he saw nothing f
nore. :
On the hills behind Seville was E
ustic cottage, where the olive shed Z
is glossy fruit, the grave lavishly r
howered it's luxurious clusters. and
be myrtle ran over the deeaying /,
tumps Of the superanuated orange Il
-ees. g
A fair girl sat singing in the cottage o
oorway, and an old man moved mild Il
? about the homestead, and watched 81
er every motion. b
eve are SO happy, father!" |,
Indeed, my child ?" a
eyes. The pleasure Of seeing you :,
from that ferful fever-the :;
y of having you near me, and loving II
% III pidSO OI youL 1dOOi dtOI y-lS d.
ost too much bliss, leaving out of my
oughts the smiles of Josie, whom I III
ear whistling as he comes up the b
lth.''
You love him then, my daughter {? a,
I'd the old man. c|
swell, I only thought we three might Il
'e together here, and it might glad er
n your declining years to know that NJ
III would have support during life in
ne, and leave me with one who loved b.
!, when you should go home to the a
gels" tn
Always loving some one better to
au thyself, dear Zirella," said the -;
man, with playful affection, as he to
ssed into the cottage. pa
This is none other than our old t.
end, the a!chemist of Seville, ri,
neither he has found the philopher's g ii
ne, whether love alone could sup ,g,