American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1878-03-30


from the warm baths, to the water every
where. Water trickled through the
green, soft moss like silver flashing
There was sweet, piney smell to the
air without Within, shuffiing footsteps
tramped heavily along the long wooden
galleries, opening unexpected doors and
shutting them again. Our innkeeper
dozed and smoked, and drank his beer
outside the door, sitting on a rough
bench. The poplar trees quivered and
whispered down in the garden. All!
that garden!
Gomez" the tremulous green leaves
were eternally whispering as they
shook. "Come! we hold a secret pris-
oned in our depths. 1t can not escape.
1t can not escape. Come hide your Sc
cret here, too!''
They always whispered like this at
night when the shadows lay deepest and
darkest on the ground. By daylight,
while the yellow sunshine kissed the
edges of the leaves, there was silence
mostly. Only now and then the
branches stirred; the boughs parted and
deep within a voice gurgled ironically,
as if waiting for the light to come to leap
out.
One evening, at twilight, 1 sat by our
window overlooking a pretty garden
path leading to orchards beyond. On a
bench under the knotted apple-trees
Rose sat, at first all alone, reading. Her
head was bent gently, as if the fragrance
of the flowers above her weighed too
heavily. A strange murmur fioated
through the air, soft and balmy. The
birds had ceased to sing; but now and
then l caught n faint, mystical sound as
if wing had stirred, unfolding in a
dream of flight above. A fleece of flow
ers kissed every tree-top-hanging
TREMENDOUSLY waiting for a wind-breath
to lift and watt it on and on-whither?
Oh dream of summer nights, where
light is, but no glare; where sound is,
but no stir; when one hears, without
seeing, the signs, terrible and disti9 ct,
OF that great pulse beating forever in
the arteries of Time. Lifel Life!
Suddenly looking down into the little
path | saw Rose, no longer alone. sThe
young mountain artist was with hek He
was talking-she listening, earneAly.
{" Rose! Rosei" l bent froAh the
window calling. My heart was batting
frightfully. Then, feeling ashaued, be-
fore they could look up drew b4ck be-
hind the curtains. What made lsy heart
beat was the sense of something samiliar
in the bearing of those two towArd each
other. Something in their Sttitude,
something even in the little sps1e which
divided them, seemed to say that these
two were no strangers to each other
that they had met often before Oh,
how foolish was to think that!
By and by she came in, her white |
dress making her tall figure look taller
in the dusk of our room. She sat by
the open window moment silent, then
she got up and came and kfelt by my
side. e
Minna, my sister, kiss me
l kissed her-her sweet asurled hair, |
her soft, round cheek, her pretty throat,
with a rose-fushed dimple in it-ss Oh,
my Rose, my darling RoseAwe have no
mother-we two sisters. We will love
each other always!''
Minna, 1 am going to be married |
some day to Josef Kollbach. L have
promised to be his wife,
1 was stupeied: what did she sayP
had 1 heard arightP
tMarried-to-to-''
To the artist-you remember him:
we met him under the trees that day !
that first day. 1 have seen him often
loves me.''
"But, Oh, Rosy; to marry him!
say?"
Rose laughed nervously.
Do you know, dear, the last letter
had from Emma tells me that she is
made quite unhappy by Henry. He
1islikes the attention she receives from
1 young French officer, and torments
ler by jealous watching. Is it not fun
ny? Poor, wise little Emma! If ever
am wife-Oh, kiss me once more,
Minna. and wish me joy. We have no
mother''
Oh, my darling sister, did not we
watch over each other, in our love in
hose days? That night the voices of
he pOplars, louder, more sinister than
Usual, had kept awake long after the
asst shaft of moonlight had faded from
he floor, and the moist air with shud-
Ter relapsed into sullen stiffness.
overed my head and then uncovered it
gain, for l could always hear
he leaves whispering, There
re secrets! There are secretsi We
now of all things that there is bit
erness somewhere hidden. We are
Ike human life. The SUMS light
listens on the outer edge-but we have
errible depths of darkness within.''
When, after having at last slept, l
woke with the mornings stir, Rosy
-as already making her toilet. She
anne and kissed me. :
&c | am happy" she murmured. g He ,
ives me''-then she added softly: :
And l love him.
Some days passed quietly after that
osef was making preparations to go to !
lie mountains again. He was faithful !,
udent of the subjects which he painted.
s for Rose, she was like one who hay
g long slept, was waking slowly up to
new sweet life. Soft reflections of rosy
'eams played on her face. The SPLEEN
of 81 La4 -.