The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1875-04-22

LII :.a....-! Ga.:E- sgasn ..oilL :zs.,.l ! :
The lady was my ~ Aunt Caroline,
then in the fresh bloom of seventeen {;
the young man I had never seen be-
fore. Seeing me standing alone in the
walk, my aunt called me; but as, 7
shrank away shy and blushing at
sight Of the stranger, she came for
ward and took hold of my hand.
"This is our little Katy, Cousin
Harry" said she, leading me towards
him.
"Our lite Katy's most obedient w
replied he, taking off his broad-brim-
med straw hat, and making a -four
ishing bow nearly to the ground:
"Don't be afraid of him, Katy
dear; he's nobody,D said my aunt,
laughing, i
At these encouraging words 81 glanc-
ed up at the merry pair, and thought
them almost as pretty as the rose
and hurnming-bird. 7 Ny Aunt Caro-
lines beauty was ofa somewhat pecu-
liar character, IF beauty that can be
called which was rather spirit, bril-.
liancy, geniality Of expression, than
symmetrical mouldspf' features. The
large, full eye was qf the deepest vio-
let hue; the finely &ched forehead, g.
little too boldly cast for feminine
beauty, was shaded by masses of rich
chestnut hair; the mouth, but who
could describe that mouth ? Even in
repose, some arch thought seemed
ever at play among its changeful
curves and when she spoke or laugh
ed, its wonderful mobility and sweet
ness of expression threw perfect
witchery over her face: Size was quite
short, and, if the truth must be told,
a little too stout in figure; but this
was in a great measure redeemed by
a beautifully moulded neck, on which
her head turned with the quickness
and grace of a wild pigeon. Every
motion was rapid and decided, and
her whole aspect beamed with genius,
gayetv, and a cordial triendliness,
which took the heart at first sight.
And then, her voice, her laugh NOT
so low as Shakespeare commends in
woman, but clear, musical, true-heart-
ed, making one glad like the song of
the lark at sunrise.
Cousin Harry was very tall, very
pale, very black-haired and black
eyed young gentleman, with a high,
open brow, and very fascinating
smile. J!
The remainder Of the garden scene
was to me but little more than dumb
show. Perhaps it was more wildly
remembered for that very reason. /
recollect being busy filling a little
basket with strawberries, while I
watched with a pleased, childish curl
'oosiity 81 the two young 'iI g; people; as they
passed many times up and down the
gravelled walk between the rows of
flowers. T was not far from the But
ton-Rose, and I had neatly filled my
basket, when my aunt came to the
spot and stopped over the little plant.
Her face was towards me, and I saw
several large tears fall from her eyes
upon the leaves. She broke off the
most beautiful blossom, and tying it
up with some sprigs of mignonette,
presented it to Cousin Harry. They
then left the garden.
The next day I heard it said that
Cousin Harry was gone away. The
little rose was brought into the house
and installed in the bow-window of
my aunt's room, where it was watched
and tended by us both with the great
est care.
Some time after this, the news
came that Cousin Harry was married.
The next morning I missed my little
favorite from the window. My aunt
was reading when I walked.
"Oh, Aunty?' I cried, "where is our
little erose?'
'It was too much troub le, Katy
said she, quietly; II have put it into
the garden
"But isn't it going to stand in ou,
| window any more?'
"No, dear, I am tired of it."
"Oh, do bring'it back! I will take
the whole care Of it" said I, begin
ming to cry.
"Katy," said my aunt, taking m>
into her lap, and looking steadily
but kindly, into my face, "listen t.
me. I do not wish to have that rost
in my room any more; and if 20,
love me, you viii never mention i
again"
Something in her manner prevent
ed my uttering: q word more in behal
Of the poor little exile. AS soon as
was dressed, 1 ran down into the gar
den to visit it. 1t looked very lonely
I thought; L could hardly bea
to leave it. The day following, il
disappeared from the garden, and oil
Nanny, the housemaid, told me tha
my aunt had given it away. I neve
saw it again..
| Thus ended my personal acquaint
ance with the little Button-Ros Blu
that first strong impression on m,
fancy was indelih!e. The flower still
b lived in my n.>n'oly, surrounded b
associations which gave III a mysti
charm. By degrees I ceased to mis-
=; it from the window but that strang