The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1877-01-05
MY. LITTLE SWEETHEART.
BY JESSIE PERSON.

stiffness of the snow we seemed sud
denly to have entered the traditona
iairy-land, and as we stepped upon the
schooner, swinging at the pier in Jack
sonYile, which was to bear us away
across the blue to the ocean bound town
that was to be our home for a term Of
| months.
| Papa had been an invalid for months,
bnay years, but remember how his tired
leyes Frightened, and his face wore that
pleased expression l so rarely remem-
! bered in it as the fresh ocean breeze was
waited over to US bringing on its healing
wings the spicy seems OF tropic plants
and blossoms. ..... ..
Aftera pleasant trip of perhaps TWEEN
| ty-tour hours we reached the inlet OF a
broad river, and thence in small sail
boat were swept up 10 the wharf, beyond
which l saw dimly in the faint evening
light the long piazzas of a spacious
| building rising from behind u screen OF
dark green leaves. ...
/ 1t was a tall, old ashioned house with
| wide paneled halls, and quaint, curious
| ly carved doorways.
| Extending all around it was a wide
| balcony, whose pillars were entwinel
with climbing vines, roses, passion How
ers and cypress, mingling their scented
breaths and gorgeous tintlngs.
AS came down the broad staircase
the morning after our arrival with my
black hair brushed smoothly back from
my forehead and gathered at the back in
one long, heavy braid, my morning dress
of gray cashmere trailing softly behind
me, l came suddenly upon pcture
which | snau remember, | think, even
|
| shall aWakeu'-a picture that l can
| think OF now only through a mist Of
| tears.
A slight boyish figure was leaning
against the balcony rail; one hand was
raised to gather a purple passion flower
| that grew above his head, aud all around
him quiVeriug in the morning sunshine
were other blossoms purple-black, GRIM
son roses, ana starry cypress flowers,
framing i'll wreath of pas sionate color
the loyelest lace that had ever seen.
Eyes like brown wine, cheeks the COL
or Of pomegranate blooms and in which
the dImples played hide and seek and
brown waving hair clustering carelessly
about a fair white forehead. Such was
my little sweetheart on that sunny
morning in the long ago, the pretty, dead
past that was so sweet III the living,
ever.
AS he heard my step his hand sud-
denly dropped and the blossom fell to
the floor.
l stopped and picked it up. "Poot
little flower, may keep it?" l said.
lie smiled quick, bright smile. eyes
and as many more as you like" he an.
Iswered, and In moment had gathered
me bouquet of The lovely blossoms.
We were good friends after that. lie
was only sixteen and L a city belle OF
twenty-five, and felt kind OF tender
motherly interest in "my boy" as
learned to call him, from the lofty ped.
estal Of my six years of seniority.
All through the long bright days we
wandered together through woods and
meadows, or went out sailing on the
river IN the twilight, or watched the sun
sink out of sight behind the western
| tree-tops and the round full moon rising
out of The sea to take its place.
They were happy, care-lree days that
we wandered together, "my boy" and l,
as gay and happy as two little children.
But lovely as were my surroundings,
perfect as were those golden days, sure
as was that papas health was lmproV-
ing under the genial influence of the
Southern climate, the days at last began
TO hang heavily on my hands.
l had been called coquette in the
glittering circle in the NorIn OF which l
was acknowledged queen.
Perhaps l deserved the title. AT
least it was true that in this quiet
Southern town l began one day to s1sIgh
for new worlds to conquer" TO feel lone.
ly and disspirited, ana wish vaguely tor
some new fresh excitement.
l was thinking OF this one warm, sum.
mer-Ilke evening, as l stood on the plaz.
"a Watching the sunset and hummlng
lightly to myself little song
"PVe just been learning the lesson Of life,
The sad. SAD lesson Of loving,
And all of its powers for pleasure or pain
| Been slowly and sadly proving"
Are those your sentiments, Miss Van
Nordenw asked a voice, and turning ]
saw BERTHE at my elbow.
mot exactly" replied, smiling, and
then the conversation gradually drlfted
into those light, meaningless nothings
which we of the world have learned SO
well how to say.
AS we stood there, the light of the
fading day shining on his beautiful head
a sudden thought struck me.
| | wondered If "my boy'sn heart had
ever learned aught of that "lesson o
lite," that sad, sweet lesson that l think
all the world, sooner OF later, come to
know.
did not believe that he really had
but l began TO tease him about a little
yellow-haired girl who Lived across the
| way.
| "You are laughing at me, Miss Van
| Norden," he said, hall froWning; "you
know | don't care for her.'
/ "Not care for her," l said, affecting to
| hn prpatIV a6tOuIshe0 than lnauiur n n un N