The New Orleans bulletin. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1874-1876, 1876-03-12
ORANGE BLOSSOMS.


ways in Seville, and just peeping over all,
tiny minarets of the Bosphorus shot up. 1t
was pleasant to sit thus and play at hide and
seek with past recollections, but our dreams
were suddenly scattered to fragments by
we'll known voice at our side ex ,laiming;a
"How are you, old boy?" and Bangs stood
before us. Bangs, the Benedict of two
months. had left his spouse for an hours
trip back to the land of batchelordom, just
to take, as it were, q little survey of the place
from which he was now exiled. He. in q sort
of plying and condescending air, was look
ing over our magazines and engravings, and
whistling all the time, then lingering the
looks of our new Westly Richards shot gun
as gingerly as if he never had known what
fowling piece was. It was evident he didn't
want to return to the everglade of single
blessedness, and more, that he wanted to
make us understand that without telling us
30.
After satisfying himself that he had by h is
actions done all in that direction required of
q newly married man, he tossed off glass OF
sherry and sat down near the window which
opened upon our unpretentious little gard on
plot. He stood there, the wind kicking mp
old nick with his long gray whiskers, whom
suddenly he started, rubbed his nose as
though dose Of cayenne pepper had been
snuffsd up it, and themes commenced to in
hale with long heavy respirations the fragrant
breeze. Il came from the Cult, it was tine
tured with the aromatic sweetness of the
primeval Expresses Of our swamps, then it
was made more sweet with the blooming aca-
cias over the river, and last our orange tree
added its wealth Of perfume; an Araby 3
zephyr was q myth in comparison to 1t.
Bangs exploded.
"They are early. this year, old boy, are the
orange flowers; and the rush OF their per-
fume into the windows took me quite aback. )"
Here Bangs rubbed the side Of his nose again
with his index finger meditatingly, and con-
tinued: "This nasal organ Of ours is one
of the very inner doors to our sensorium.
Old sentiments and associations are more
readily reached through it than by almost any
other channel. Where do, you think am at
this moment. old fellow. This aggregation
of cells, this tissue Of certain chemical in
gradients, all covered with suit of Bells best
make of cashmere, is certainly in the room
here with you; but bless your heart, You ct
this moment have no more Of Bangs's society
than our little barber around the corner.
!. "No, sir; those orange blossoms have car
ried all of Bangs's individu atty in skip away
up to q certain plantation on the river, and
what you see is only his old shell.
"sI discern maiden, fair browed, dark eyed,
Pale with . golden beam OF an eyelash dead on
the cheek
Passionlsss. pale cold face, star sweet on gloom
profound
"The sun has gone down behind bank Of
willows on sand-bar below on the river, and
we, Bangs and the maiden, are strollng
through an avenue Of orange. I had her hand
in mine and was An Emperor, or thought I
was. The invisible perfumers of nature were
hard at work in the trees overhead distilling
their intoxicating essences, and the air was
redolent with the odors Of their laboratory.
"That face can see now, looking up into
mine, and through those eyes I see now, as !
saw then, q vision Of perfect rest and peace,
What's this? Why bless my soul I've only
been married two months, and here am
talking about one of my old flames. What
would Mrs. Bangs think? Pshaw !! There's
no use in our deceiving ourselves, the cica-
trices of forty years agone will break out once
ina while, and the old wound bleed afresh. The
tender regard never fully leaves Us for those
once loved, but then there is in this regard not
the least leaven of disloyslty to Mrs. Bangs. y
He took out handkerchief, with his name
neatly embroidered in one corner, and kisse
it. It was present from the present Mrs. b.
"No, sir. Whatever seeds the past may
have blown about our waste meadows, the
harvests Of happiness we CLEAN from the SOW
ing of q true wife soon overshadows the
sprightly little queer flowers scattered along
life's burrows, and their fbrous stems remain
only to fertilixe the soil for the ripper love.
Would you believe it. at eight years of age
used to pity grown-up people, because
thought their ability for love was gone. Now,
at fifty, laugh at the molasses-candy infatu-
alton of the hobbledehoyhood, and SO tee
contented." .
As the poor fellow INDUCED a little toe
freely with our sherry, we let him easily
down in our armchair, and sent . note IL
Mrs. B. that he would be home early, and
that We, both B. and I, were fixing up some
old accounts. ..s
The New Louisiana Remedy. for throat and
lung complaints. is great blood purifier, and
permeates the whole system. Tho evidence i