Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1878-09-29


Oh, merciful God! take his soul to Thee,
In better land beyond the seal
THE EVE OF ST. JOHN.
1t was a warm June day. The sun was al
ready halfway down his western slope, NOV
ing lazlly, as if weary with the long march OF
the summer solstlce. A gauzy haze yelled
without obscurng his brightness, and lent
dreamy charm to the scene below. Soft roll
ing hills; stream winding between green
wlllowy shores; seen far away, a broad blue
river, and the spires and roofs of a town;
these were the outlines of the landscape. In
the cool piazza of the old white farmhouse,
her home for half a century, stood my grand
mother, smile on her placid face, and her
mild eyes drinking in the serene beauty of the
scene. Alice and came flying down the hall
stair case and stood beside her.
Good by, grandmamma,' cried my sister.
I'VE are going to leave for a little while.'
Must you 60 to day, my dears? The horses
are away, and it is a long walk to s..
Why not wait until Tomorrow"
"You forget" | said, "that Frank comes to-
morrow; and he shall be so busy with pack
ing, and all the last things. And it is only
two miles to town, after all.'
81 suppose yoa must go, dear; but it is a
long walk for Alice in this hot sum- grand
iAioiAiAii@ oaNSo, llOIl gray VAIN
ing dress to my sisters cloudy muslin and Slip
'sOh, am not going, grandma; shall only
walk with Charlotte down to the thorn-trecs
to take that sketch have promised so long.
We shall both be back early to spend a long
evening with you. This is my birth-night,
you know ust think! | am nineteen-and I
want you to make a festival of it,"
BE sure we will And good-by, now, my
children, for you have no more time to spare. -
Alice and walked SLOWLY down the green
path which wound its way across the fields to
the brook. Following this for some distance,
we came to a rude wooden bridge by which
We gained the other shore; and soon a sharp
bend in the stream brought us to the thorn
trees of which Alice had spoken. A miniature
prDmontory, covered with the most softest
and most velvety turf was washed on two
sides by the waters of the brook while the
third was guarded by a semi-circular line OF
gnarled and twisted thorn-trees. A belt OF
similar trees upon the opposite shore render
ed the seclusion of the place perfect. It was
a spot which Titania might have chosen for
her court, so still, so secret and so green.
Through partial opening in the trees was
visible lovely bit of scenery, sketch of
which Alice, who draws with rare skill and
fidelity, proposed to take in my absence. Seat
I'd here on the warm grass, the stream muir
muring at her feet and the leaves futtering
over her, left her to her pleasant task; and
regaining in a few moments more the fire.
quented path, took my way by the long yellow
high-road to the distant town
Alice and [ had been spending some months
with our grandmother, and were to leave in a
few days for our home in Philadelphia Our
own mother was dead; and the arm-hearted
though rather gay and fashionable step-mo-
| Their who had taken her place did not come SO
near to our heat as did the gentle old lady
at the farm. a part of every year we spent
with the latter, always leaving her with re-
greet l should mention that my step-mother
had son, the fruit OF a former marriage, who
had been absent several years in India, and
at this time had just returned AS we had no
brother OF our own, Frank Baldwin, who was
a few years older than I, had filed nearly a
brothers place to Alice and myself. He was
now to beour escort home, as our father was
prevented by some business from coming for
| us himself.
This afternoon had to make some trifine
purchases at the shops, and pay few parting
| VISIT of friendship or ceremony. We had ma.
| ny friends in s., and the farewell calls con.
| sumed so much time that nine O. clock was
| ringing from all the steeples before was able
| to leave the town and turn my steps toward
home. But the way, though lonely, was safe
and enjoyed the quiet walk ia the evening
reached the gate which communicated with
the foot-path across the fields. OF course
had no idea of meeting Alice at that hour, for
though she had promised to wait for me, it was
| in the expectation that my return would be
much earlier Yet when / came to the turn Of
the path leading to the thorn-trees, my steps
| half involuntarily took that direction.
Walking on slowly, had reached the brook
and rounding the point where, hours before
| had left my, sister, when was startled by
| perceiving what seemed in the uncertain star
light TO be her figure reclining on the grass
under the thorn trees. 1nvoluntarily paused
| half in doubt, half in fear. At that instan
| first low breath of the night wind sighins
across the fields and stirring the stiff leaves o
the old thorns with ound as of innumerabl
airy footsteps. With sudden thrill, as if
had been conscious of some invisible presence
I called her name, but in low, frightened
| voice There answer; and, sprln gins
forward knelt beside the figure of my sister
| lying fast asleep upon the grass. Her flushe,
| lcheek rested on her round white arm, and
smile like that of dreaming infancy parted he
beautiful lips. Lifting her long hair, on whic!
claiming, alice! Alice vane what are 20,
thinking Of asleep in this damp night air?'
Slowly she opened her large eyes and gazet
| around with bewildered expression
"Dear Alice, do rouse yourself" | cried. II
is past ten O'Clock, and grandma will b.
crazy"
She obeyed the movement of my hand, sa
up and allowed me to wrap my shawl abou
her. gathered up her scattered DRAWN!
materials, and again begged her to rouse her
self and 20 home.
eyes, we will go,' she said; but have beel
dreaming SO long, can scarcely find th
boundry line between my dreams and reality.
| .tWhat were you dreaming ofe''
ooh so many things l must have bee
sleeping long time, for the last thing I cal
remember the sun was setting, and
thought you would soon be here. was awak
then, and am sure of it. All at once ther
came from far up the glen faint sweet strait