The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1878-05-29
MY FIRST LOVE LETTER
BY GRACE GREENWOOD.

letter? / presume not. Ii is story have
not been very fond OF telling. But years
bring to me, if not philosophy, comtorta-
bic sense of the comical in regard to all
early illusions and dis-illusions.
The moment of opening and reading the
first love letter is thrilling and august
point of time, in which all the spring tides
of passionate young life seem to meet i'll a
swift dazzling whIrl of emotion III from
the right man, what triumphant joy Ii
from a suitor one can not smile on, what
sweet painl But you know all about it dear.
j very young when L received my
first love letter-indeed, not permanently
out of short frocks and the bread-and-b
age
Having lived the greater portion of my
life in the country, the companion OF my
brothers. was desperate romp and gypsy,
delighting to roam the fields and woods,
preterrng the fishing rod TO the needle, and
even the stable to the parlor. As yet, a fine
horse was the rival of all mankind in my
young affections. Still / had read Scott
Edgeworth, Hemans and l.. Il. 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 good time.
L used to dream of him, as 1 sat like little
Ellie among the alders, with my feet in the
brook, or as | rode alone in the woods. 1
thought little of his pedigree, but resolved
that he must have a patrician Greek profile,
dark blue eyes, and black. curling hair,
coming down on bis lofty brow in a Byron
peak. l made no account of houses or lands
in loves arcadia, but my hero must possess
a fine horse. The 'ssteed of steeds' was
sine qua non.
Our removal from country to town was an
absolute sorrow to me, with my nature low
ing heart, and wild free habits. / hated the
busy monotO0y, the thronged loneliness, the
dull whirl of city life. l could only console
myself with occasional flights back into my
old rural haunts. From the longest, rough
-est tramps / returned refreshed, prepared to
endure what could not cure.
Il came OUT prematurely and tempOrar-
lily when was scarcely fifteen, on the occa-
sion OF large wedding party. / wore a
long dress and white kid gloves for the first
time. Ny hair Was curled. Oh, the tor
ture of a night and the hideousness of day
in curl papers, l wore natural flowers and
carried huge bouquet
Distressingly diffide Mt and to say awkward
/ early in the evening retired to q deep
window seat where L remained watching
the merry groups of wedding guests, and
listening to their easy chatter, 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 / wassa very brunette. She
was distinguished for sumptuousness Of
attire; and dress was not then, any more
than IL Is now. my besettipg sin, or peculiar
yirtue, whichever you incline to esteem it.
But oddly enough, this fair lady bore mr.
name precisely, surname and baptismal. I
used to think the circumstance annoyed her,
almost as though had stolen the fashion of
her Partisan bonnet or the pattern OF her
costly, embroidered shawl. Aside from her
name there was little common between us
certainly no love. At this party she quite
outshone the bride. / found il curious to
watch her.
'H9 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 my double, for,
my dear, sat the very party 4 saw him-my
ideal hero, my fairy pm nee. From all that
goodlg company | singled bin out at a
glance. There were the dark blue eyes, there
was a 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 as
'Mr. John Trevalyan." gf it wasn't just
IrevalJen, Il was quite as respectable a
name. The John I'll stand by
Well, be stoed by me and talked to me for
"a bright, wondrous half hour, precisely as
though had been a full grown belle: and l.
under the spell of his plea ant hattery, fell
Gn with the little make.believe. and chatted
sway, quHe at ease, ana SAID some things
that were really not so bad Yet, when /
spoke, II seemed 10 me it was some one else
talking in a second double. Ny very voice
mad an unfaEziliar sound.
Iir Trevaiyzn t.tk<ed of poetry, art, mnsic.
ane flowers, Ia low, sweet, beg1iling, par
tieSlar way after ti-e manner 0f his kind
He said, Of all the fine arts, his enthusiasm
wasdecidedly for scB pture $50 cold. so pure,
SO exalted" and he begged to know il
shared his aesthetic preference. suppose, If
/ had been properly trained. for year or
two older, might have answered. 81 am
enraptEred with nusio-Beethoven- Mozart
Henry Russell. and the Seguins; / dearly
love art-Titian, Michael Angelo, and Ben.
tamin West; but adore poctry-Milton,
Byron, and n. =. Willis"
As it was. with a desperately honest
impulse, replied:
Il admire ert and music, poetry, and all
such things, but don't know much about
them yet To tell the plain truth, my par
ticular enthusiasm is-just horsesi 4 sup
p0ss it's preverse and improper, and all that;
but do know something about horses and l
love them"
Ny hero smiled, in beaming, ipduIgent