West-Jersey pioneer., 1875-09-16
BR1DGEToN N. J., THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER =, 1875.


ers and decorative artists, who felt in the
case peculiar interest. AS Mr.. B. had
said, it was sgoing hard'' with his young
countryman, Horace King. But the testi-
monials Of ability and character contributed
by substantial men, and their presentation
by the well-known and widely honored Mr..
B, produced beneficial counteraction.
Then Florence Grey became witness.
Before giving her volunteered statement she
had seen the face of the defendant. Mr..
b pointed him out to her, and it needed
but a glance to assure Florence that he was
the veritable ideal of whom her inmost soul
declared, Truthful, trustworthy"
He, too had seen her, and for all instant
all the realities around him melted into the
uncertain atmosphere of dream. His blithe
s'beauty" Of the wildwood, his mimic shep-
herdess of sylvan fairy Land, the little star
that had dawned upon his loves first dream
he knew her image WELL And now, folded
in her dark robes of mourning, mantled in
blacknes like his fate, she came to him as
priestess of the night.
The aim of her statement was to give the
scenic story Of the pattern-to show clearly
to others, as she herself clearly saw, the
inherent proof of authenticity in the indi-
vidualizing history Of the design. The car
pet was the map Of the moment, and the
moment was the possession of Horace King.
She described in her simple, impulsive, and
conoinced, and consequently convincing Ian
guage the meeting and parting in the glen
of forget-me- nots, whose memorial the artist
had committed in picturesque fragments to
the Interviewing loom. She traced in the
pattern beneath the forget-me-nots of tur-
quois and zenith blue, a shadowy strewing
had held in her hand, and of which he had
said to her the names-woodbin sumach
and wild rose. In the border, edged by a
conventional fretwork of black and gold,
was rendered as well as tinted woods might
the 'ssunset" trellis Of carmine cloud
ssAnd here'' said Florence, kindling with
excitement, Gin the fretwork of the border
is my turquois ring. Oh, perhaps he wears
it stillr'
ssMy turquois ring!" How her clear voice
swept with these words the heart of Horace
King! He did not hear the added sentenc
it was said in lowered tone; but he
caught it's reflection in an impression Of
friendly interest aroused in the listening
crowd-a murmur, perhaps, or a sympa-
thetio smile.
He wore it still. And in the border of
the carpet, its likeness at intervals, more or
less revealed, now clearly appeared. Nor
was this all. Florence. Grey's testimony,
corroborated unexpectedly in circumstantial
points by Theresa and her mother, and sus-
tanned in dignity by the Introductory sup
port of the renowned Mr.eB---, achieved
its browning triumph in the announcement
that her initials, the engraved initials of her
ring, we're introduced into, the fretwork OF
the carpets border. Horace Kings oppo-
| .>.-~- c-;iAd tn find them: but they were dis
covered presently in their ingenious repro
duction by experts; and with this seal of
the scenic story, Horace Kings acquittal
was complete. a5w 5assw d I,
A year in Italy devoted to the cultivation
of her voice was made delightful to Florence
Grey by correspondence with dear friend
in England, correspondence which brought
her into intimate knowledge Of the noble
heart and gifted mind Of Horace King.
And her singing was never publicly heard
for ere the year of schooling ended, the plar
of her life was changed.
Fate kept, in the disposal of Florence
true to it's fond antiphonals. In the very
manor place near N, not far from Lin
dengrove, and within rambling distance Of
the forget-me-not glen, Horace King, il
exact imitation of an absurd fancy of
romantic girl, may be often seen now
thoughtfully pacing it's terrace or emerging
from it's stately glades. >. a
Returning to his native land, and inter
esting himself both as artist and capitals
in the manufactures of NJ, he has wol
fame and fortune. His wife is graceful
lady, the mother of beautiful children, an,
the favorite of circle of friends, of who's
appreciation her husband may be proud.
Every one knows her as Mrs. King, bu
her sweet, rich, ripping voice, that hold
the soprano in the choir of the villag
church, is the sunny inheritance of Florenc
Grey