The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1877-08-16
The Oak Trees Secret.

The Oak Trees Secret.
1t is spring in California. Traversing
the undulating wild region, we come at
length to swift running streamlet,
upon whose low mossy banks huge
rocks uplift themselves, while close be-
side, extending its leafy branches over
the rugged surface of the boulders,
stands an old oak tree.
"Why, you dear old oak |" exclaims
Florence Gerard, as she steps within its
grateful shade. 81 feel quite at home
with you. Now who would suppose
that one gnarled old tree could so closely
resemble household of human beings
But, just now, you look to me the very
moral as Maude would say, of the
Gerard family. There are your leaflets
and slender twigs dancing and singing
gleefully all the day long, and chatting
and cOquetting alike with spring blasts
and spring breezes-thOse are Richie,
and Maude and me.
"Your great branches which sway
and murmur sometimes pleasantly,
sometimes sOrrOwfully, to the whisper
ings and whistling of the winds, and
the merry music of the dancing leaves
they are papa and mamma, and dear
Aunt Eleanor. While your great round
trunk, which hos grown so gray and
unwieldly with age, and can only croak
and grumble at the pleasant branches,
and dismally chide the happy, thought
less little twigs-grandma Gerard for
all the world ~ And with merry lit
tie laugh at her own cOnceit, Florence
seats herself at the foot of the tree and
busies herself in the arrangement of
her burden of wild flowers, and, in be-
half of her tired limbs, casts occasional
rueful glances toward the clump of tall
evergreens which hides from her view
the house of Gordon Gerard, fully a
mile away.
1t is summer now. The great oak
tree has become favorite resort with
Florence Gerard, and we find her this
afternoon reading within the shadow of
Its wide spreading branches. The vol
ume does not prove very interesting, |
think, and she glances through it with
a llstless air, until the following words
put in the mouth of the heroine claim
her wandering attention:
"Three things there are which come
to every woman in her turn-love, mar
rlage and death"
Glove, marriage and DEATH" she
echoes; "why, l have not even loved" :"
The book slides from her grasp, while
Florie falls to dreaming of her possible
hero, unmindful that even now he
stands at her side. A voice in pleasant
greeting brings her to herself, and with
cry of alarm she half rises as her eye
falls upon the form beside her-the en-
bodiment of her dream, tall, hand
some man in the dress of chieftain.
How 1t came about | cannot tell-for
Florie is usually handsome miss-but
half hour later finds her still at the
foot of the old oak tree, with the stran-
ger by her side. His eye rests upon the
fallen volume, and as he raises it from
the ground he glances at the name upon
the title page, "Florence Gerard"
"Florence" he repeats, "place of my
nativity! On, Italy, beautiful Italy !!
Must he repudiated forever by thee !
Accused be the powers that keep me
forever from my birthrightp'
Then as he notes the look of alright
in the eyes of his companion, which his
wild manner and passionate words have
called up, his voice sinks to a soft, sad
cadence as he relates the story of the
wrong which banished his family from
their native land.
How much of truth and how much of
fiction the story contains, neither you
nor / can tell, dear reader, since our
acquaintance with Luigi Albini began
with this summer afternoon.
Another half hour glidos away-an-
other-an hour--the sun has almost hid
den its face behind the western slope,
and still we find them beneath the old
oak tree. AT length Florie starts to her
feet, exclaiming at the flight of time
"Aunt Eleanor will think l have
fallen into the hands of the robbers,
who, they say, have a hiding-place
near" she said, adding with little
laugh, "and so may If l remain out
longer"
"fHave no fear, lady One SO. fair and
pure Aworld not be molested by the
tercest of that robber band"
al am not so certain Of that. | fear
our California robbers do not possess