The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1875-10-28
LOVES LUNAcY,

1
LOVES LUNAcY.
Fanny Parr was a pretty, blue-eyed
girl, with long. fair hair, and q figure
like sylph. Her eyes had the preJtiest
look of appeal in the world, and she had
way, unconscious to herself, OF draw
ing up beside the one she was address,
ing, as if she were alive with tenderness
and sought protection. She was contid-
| ing like child, and her thoughts as
pure. Every one loved Fanny, nor
thought OF asking why, for the very at
mosphere about her was that of love.
and true-hearted, loved only one. /
doubt if she ever dreamed that wo-
mans heart could change. She read OF
Isuch things, indeed, but then she always
regarded Them asNthe fancies Of the poets,
and she had thousand of her own, so
she could never believe them real. She
| had world of illusions, beautiful, trust
ful and pure, and that became the real
| TO her.
| When her lover first went away, Fanny
amused herself in feeding the birds ne
| had given her and tending the flowers
| that grew most beautifully under her
care. Quiet and secluded, she had little
TO occupy her attention, and the songs
she sang, the books she read, the walks
she took, all indicated the presence of
her lover to her mind's eye. He would
| be home in SIX months, and then he
would make her his wife.
| Time is always laggard to divided
lovers. A thousand methods are de-
yised to kill him, yet he stays by with
his leaden face as ii his journey would
never cease. Six months passed away,
and Fanny was buOyant with the hope
| Af har laypr. IAuv
day she sat in expectation, and yet he
came not. She had ceased to hear from
him, but she did not heed that, tor sure
! ly he will soon be here, she thought, and
all Will be explained. A month more
| passed, and yet he came not. No tld-
ings reached her, and the hope that had
hitherto consoied her began TO Jade from
her heart. Her cheeks grew pale, and
| listlessness crept upon her, making eX-
ertlon OF any kind painful. Her friends
| resorled to many expedients to rouse
| her, but in vain. They tried TO excite
her wVman's pride by tales OF his deser-
ton ard faischood ;sbuJ she shook her
| head mourniuily, and the large tears
gathered in her eyes. "he Is i'll, he IS
DYING" she would articulate, "or the
ocean has become his grave.'
A wear passed i'll this way, and Fanny
was wasted to shadow. One day she was
seated in the yerandah with her hands
| folded in her lap, when a mendicant
| came to ask aims. The woman regarded
| her for moment in silence, and then re-
spectiully took her hand and read the
| lines upon the palm. Fanny was in-
stantly all attention. But the woman
was silent, and turned away.
.'Tell me if he is alive" cried Fanny,
earnestly.
"You will never be his wife," replied
the woman.
.'He is dead! he is dead!" shrieked the
poor girl. and ieli to the earth.
When Fanny recovered, she found the
beggar looking sorrowfully into her face,
while her friends were bathing her tenn
ples. She beckoned her forward.
sis there no way, good woman, by
which you can tell me his tateW
The woman shook her head, only say
| ing, ''Lovers are often false"
"NoI mol not false Henry could never
| be false; he was all truth aud nobieness !;
besides, who could be false to love like
| mineW
| The woman took pack OF cards from
her pocket, and sat down at the feet Of
the poor girl and began to shuttle them
over.
"Now WISH" she said, "and cut the
cards three times, all the time with the
same wish."
Fanny did as she was directed, re-
| peating her wish aloud. Il wish Henry
will soon be here" three times over. and
| LAYING the cards on the seat beside her.
The woman then looked them over and
| put them by.
wishf' cried the hall-bewildered girl.
| "Leave the iuture with the Almighty,
| lady Nh good can come OF tllS.V
| "rell me all. l can bear anything
| now;" and she burst into tears.
"Thus adjured," the woman said, in a
low voice, "rhere is sickness and death
to your lover"
| 81 knew he wasn't false" cried
Fanny, bursting into an hysteflcal
llaugh. 81 knew he wasn't faise,' as il
even death were preferable TO false
hood.
recovered herself and grasped her arm.
IL am dying; do you not see l am 7
Teach me your art, that may know the
worst that is 10 Defau me-"
The woman looked pityingly in her
lace, and kissed her thin band, while "a
tear fell upon it. That lear revealed The
depths of womanhood, The strong, never
to-b -etfaced characters upon the neart,
to be read, it may be, only by the eye OF
the All-Seelng. HAVe Love ana sorrow
become one? Both are superstitious,
and both are asking OF the future. The
village girl has a thousand methods by
which she seeks to test the sincerity o1
lner4over, and her anxiety is just in pro
portion to the earneStness Of her own al
Lachment.
The beggar was respectable in hsr ap
tpearance, and had an air of mysticism
entirely foreign to anythhag like impost
Iurer she was eyieently deluded by he
Town imagination. Sne had unqualifie,
faith herself i'll all She vaught.
'sThese pieces oil ps, s,per," she began
@look simple and uymeaning enough
| yet it was the opera tion OF maryelou
Imind that conceived their number an
devices. They have character alike,
| to each, and the Position which they OF
cupy is fixed by Fate. Where the wis
t is strong in the SJul it decides the piae
, of each, and they become oracalar. Blu
: it will take you long, very long, to lear
/ their true meaning; indeed, you mus
have the experience, and the sufferin
that have Known, Ii may be. before 20
: will rightly understand them."
RI The eyer Of the two met, and there wa
!. that strange look Of affinity, an ez
| InraaainH aRin each tn the Othnf--th