Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1875-07-31

cept ano i've Inc prize - Eithou
price, and the glory gratis. tits not
kingdom to be bought by earth's 3 sordi,
tressures-not crown TO be obtaine,
BY the exchange Of rare bijoux. but
land of deliverance-"a home Of tn,
SOUL IF we will but cast our tent
under the shadow of the cross, tn.
crown, the palm. the inheritance is al
our own. He asks but our love, oul
obedience and contrition, and, oh
why are We SO opposed to yielding it
That little something that would gain
for US the wealth of eternity.
Mr.. Clifford had weighed these
thoughts wisely and well. They har-
assed his waking hours and haunted
his dreams. He might be saved and
made heir toperpetual bliss, but heaven
would lose its sweets if they were no,
there, his household flock. He felt
that his wreath for eternity" was only
half woven garland. The rich, rare
buds of perfect trust had been prayer
fully twined by himself and his gentle
wife, but the remainder was bare, Leaf
less, mocking. The bond of love which
bound them together as kindred band
did not suffice for the holy demand.
The typical wreath of spotless blossoms
they had lovingly wound around the
hallowed hearthstone would not bloom
for eternity. One by one the delicate
treasures will fade away and sink into
Ossian's "bare, brown years." They
live on earth carefully nurtured by de-
votion and breathe their sweet incense
on the home altar. but . breath of
destiny will wither their glory and dis
pei their perfume. That will not do.
There must be something that the
blights of earth are impotent to harm
8 matchless, perpetual garland, inter
woven with works of charity and ever
greens Of unfaltering faith. God gives
Us the precious time and the choice
between imperishable immortelles
and gaudy flowers of vice. Forgive,
Gracious Sovereign, if we sometimes
choose unwisely. Do not scorn US
when the temptings are so irresistible.
'Tis evening. and the windows of the
sick mans chamber are thrown wide
open to admit the sweet breeze of early
Spring. The rich golden tints gradual
ly paled into a lustrous purple, the
herald Of twilight, and the death of
the day was swift and dolphin-like. A
perfume fraught breeze stole in and
kissed the sufferers brow with cool,
wanton caress, and on the pinions of
thought he drifted back to boyhood's
years. He was on the green common
of Bellefeld, and the scent of the cow
slip and daisy was fragrant as then.
He was q boy again, and again Hates
lover. Her witohing blue eyes were
upon him and her voice with its quaint
melody sounded in his ear. At length
his day dream sank into slumber, and
his attendants moved around with soft,
echoless tread lest they might arouse
him. Willis was sitting by his side
embroidering slippers for him-rich,
dainty affairs that the tired feet would
never need. Ruth was restless and
impatient. She wandered around the
room as if vaguely unconscious. Some
thing evidently weighed on her mind
which annoyed and perplexed her.
At last she seated herself on a couch
by the open window and her large,
soft blue eyes wandered dreamily out
on natures budding beauty. Willis
locke at her as she sat in the dying
light and thought her face the loveliest
she had ever seen. A shining gray
dress was fitted to the exquisite little
form, its soberness relieved by soft
trimmings of azure. The glittering
golden hair was banded back by pearl
pins aud the little hands that lay list
less in her lap were white and jeweled
as queens. She was fastidious and
dainty, this beautiful Ruth Clifford,
and her soft dreamy couutenance did
not wear the look of stern resolution
which never left Willis stormy visage. |
willis" The voice that uttered
the little word was plaintive and trem-
ulous, Put away your work and come
talk to me. / believe sm little
blue this evening"
Willis arose and went over to her
side. There was perfect trust between
them. Not q shadow of doubt had
ever dimmed loves bright light. With
child-like movement Ruth nestled in
Willis arms. Her brow was flushed
aud burning and some disturbing
emotion rufied er'usually placid dis
position.
willis, 1 want to tell you q secret
and ask your advice. l ought to tell
father, but some how I dread to trou-
BILE him." ael
IF it concerns your future hap
piness, Ruth, it will interest rather
than annoy him."
II don't know it is q question that
perplexes me, and, my sister, you must
help me, you must help me-" The
sweet eyes were brimming with tears,
and the red lips tremulous. You
know, Willis, 1 once loved Q man
whose perfdy was unlimited, and for
whose treaehery scorned and reject
ed him. He loved me, Willis, Gerald
loves me yet, bat through detestable
practice of flirting he lost me forever.
Lost my presence. my caresses and all
demonstration, but not my lore. love
him yet, deathlessly, and it will endure
forever. 'Semper idem' with his i'm
age is stamped on my heart. I would
never have told you this, Willis, was
not a new life about to dawn upon me,
but like the bird who sings at last his
own death lay, and 10 music and per-
fume passes away | will tell you the
withering truth that loUe him still.