St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1878-03-16
NV First Love Letter.
BY GRACE GREENWOOD.

Have ever told you, Nell, Of my frs
love letter? I presume not. 1t is .
story I have not been very fond of tell
ing. But years bring to me, if not phil
osophy, comfortable sense of the com
ical in regard to all early illusions ane
dis-illusions.
The moment of opening and reading
the first love letter is thrilling, an au
gust point of time in which all the spring
tides of passionate young life seem tx
meet in swift, dizzying whirl of emo
tion. If from the right man, what tri
umphant joy! If from suitor one car
not smile on, what sweet pain But you
know all about it, dear.
I was very young when I received my
first love letter-indeed, not permanently
out of short frocks and the bread-and
butter age.
Having lived the greater portion Of
my life in the country, the companion o.
my brothers, was desperate romp and
gypsy, delighting to roam the fields and
the woods, spreferring the fishing rod to
the needle and even the stable to the
parlor. AS yet, fine horse was the riva.
Of all mankind in my young affections
Still / had read Scott, Edgeworth
Hemans and L. E. L., with an occasional
stealthy dip into Byron, and had my
own foolish little romantic dreams of my
hero, my fairy prince, who was to come
in loves geol time.
I used to dream of him, as I sat like
little Ellie, among the alders, with my
feet in the brook, or as I rode along in
the woods. I thought little of his pedi.
gree, but resolved that he must have
pstrician Greek profile, dark blue eyes
and black curling hair, coming down on
his lofty brow in Byron peak. ]
made no account of houses or lands in
loves Arcadia; but my hero must pos
sess fine horse, The steed of steeds,'
was sine qua non.
The removal from country to town
was an absolute sorrow to me, with my
nature-lovipg heart, and wild, treehabits
/ hated the busy monotony, the thronged
loneliness, the dull whirl of city life. ]
could only console myself with occasional
flights back into my old rural haunts.
From the longest, toughest tramps I re.
turned refreshed, prepared to endure
syhat I could not cur
I"came out prematurely and tenn.
porarily when I was scarcely fifteen, on
the occasion of a large wedding party.
I wore long dress and white kid gloves
for the first time. My hair was curled
Oh, the torture of a night and the hide,
usness of day in curled papers ]
were natural flowers and carried a large
bouquet.
Distressingly diffdent, not to say
awkward, I early in the evening retired
to deep window seat, where / remained
watching the merry groups of wedding
guests, and listening to their easy chat.
ter, with childish wonder and delight.
Among the gayest of the gay was a
certain fair young lady whom I had
known for some time as my double.
Not that she was in the least like me.
She was a blonde-very much blonde
while I was very brunette. She was
distinguished for sumptuousness Of attire,
and dress was not then, any more than it
is now, my besetting sin, or peculiar
virtue, which ever You incline to esteem
it. But, oddly enough, this fair lady
bore my name precisely, surname and
baptismal. used to think the circum
stance annoyed her, almost as though
had stolen the fashion of her Partisan
bonnet, or the pattern of her costly
embroidered shawl. Aside from the
name there was little in common between
us, certainly no love. At this party abe
quite outshone the bride. I found it
curious to watch her
Her lightness and brightness did shine with
such splendor-
which was all very proper, she being a
rich tallow chambers daughter.
But not long did / watch nv double.
for, my dear, at this very party saw
MIN, my ideal hero, my fairy prince.
From all that goodly company I singled
him out 3 glance. There were the dark
blue eyes, there was the Greek profile,
the black curly hair the Byron peak
and all.
Imagine the emotions Of your friend
when to her secluded window-seat this
very young gentleman was brought and
presented IS t'Mr. John TravaIyan," II
it wasn't just Treyalyan, il was quite as
respectable a name. The John Til stand
BY.
Well, he stood by me and talked TO me
for a bright, wondrous half henr
precisely as though I had been full
grown belle; and |, under the spell Of
his pleasant fattery, fell in with the
little make.belief, and chatted away.
quite at ease, and said some things that
were really not 60 bad. Yet, when I spoke.
II seemed 70 me It was some one else
talking In second double. MY very
voice had an unfamiliar sound.
Mr.. Treyalyan talked Of poetry, art
music, and flowers, il = low, sweet, be.
quilting, particular way, alter the manner