The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1878-10-02

i The birds that sang, the aower;
that bioomed, all the clouds that lloat
ed in the summer sky, the hillside:
and the green-growiDg things, were
lighted and gilded and gloriied By
the light that shone from two brown
eyes.
knew that was captive, but
found captivity SO sweet-nay, it wa:
the freedom wherewith love make;
free
| | remember one day in particular
and refer to it, not because it was
an exceptionally happy one, but be-
cause it was the type of many others
We had left our little village for g
morning walk together. We took
tbs way toward the great woods that
for miles and miles covered the hills
about U.s. Robert was as great an
enthusiast as myself in regard to
wild-howers, and searched for the
newest of them for me in secluded
hooks, and actually found at last a
blue gentian. He helped me over
steep places, climbed almost inacces-
sible rocks for me, and loaded himself
down with ferns and grasses. Once
he found white rose, the last of the
season, aud gave it to me with a look
| remember even this day. All ! hap
py, happy time.
But the summer and our happiness
had to end.
Judge Tremaine and his wife had
other plans for their son. Margaret
De Ruyter was a most estimable per.
son, but she was poor Professor DE
Rayter had been o very fine man, q
profound scholar, thorough gentle
man, bat a man who never had the
second good suit to his back, q man
who preferred spending his money on
what be called rare" old books, to
doing and living Ike other people.
And Margaret herself was odd. Not
much like other folks, and no match
for Robert, whc, rich, elegant and
cultured, could find many woman
better fitted to be his wife. So they
said, and il all came to me-
And it was true. | knew it to be
So Aud at the close Of o beautiful
day, when Robert came up the little
walk to my door, | had made up my
mind.
| remember that day so we'll Ii
is bitter thing to stand face to face
with . duty which, acknowledged
and yielded to, will cover your lite
with darkness, but which, set aside,
would bring to your own soul q sense
Of humiliation and contempt not less
hard TO bear.
And | made up my mind
There is no use in urging me, Rob-
ert," | said. "God knows that love
you, for your love, fer your willing
ness 10 throw away your inheritance
for MY sake. But | will permit no
such sacrifice"
at is no sacrifice"
You have not the knowledge that
| have. You do not know aught Of
privatioa or trial. Love ia cottage,
with ell the modern improvements,
looks fair TO you; but fear you
would fad that
Love In G cottage, with water and crust,
Is-Ioye, forgive me-w5tcr, ashes dust
If were alone, | would go with
YOU unhesitatiDgly bat | will not
burden you with the aged mother
who is my sacred charge o, my
darling, try to understand that il is for
your own dear sake 1 put away all
the beauty and loneliness of life. Go
go before | pity myself into repent
iDg my decision Some day you will
thank me that ! did not spare myself
and you this bitterness"
He answered 81 would leave father
and mother, houses and lands, for
your sake but since you will not
permit that / will do what is harder
i will leave you for your own sake,
not for nine
o. the bitter, weary days aud
weeks that followed lie went away,
| did not know where, bu. after a
time heard that he had gone back to
Germany He had been educated
there, aud had spent so many years
there that it seemed like home to him
more like home to him, | knew
than the fathers be had left.
And | took up my burdens again.
never, for a moment, in my widest
dreams, imagined ths. this parting
was sught than final. | knew that
such experiences never repeat them
selves. / had known the height and
depth Of joy ard sorrow, and looked
into the future with little knowledge
as to what it could do.
still taught Mrs Browns daugh.
teFs, and at night, after my work was
done and my mother asleep in her bed,
/ wrote.
| know that poets are born, not
msde, but | also knew that this div
ine birihright Of song lies dumb till
the mighty hanI Of some great pas.
sion touches the heart.
"It was not song that taug h,lne 1--we,
But love that taught me song.
The waking of this gif. brough. a
strange delight, and | learned new
things Of myself | understood now
the rapture that had been born Of my
dreams. | felt as though | had been
asleep, and some great magician had
awakened me- Aud this was true.
And so | wrote and worked, aud
was fer from being utterly unhappy
| gained some reputation, too. My
poems found their way into the pap
ers and magazines, and, better than
ell, into the hearts of the people.
grew accustomed to seeing myself ir
print, and by degrees rid myself of the
shy, half guilty feeling | had in re-
gard to it.
| earned some money by it too
Not the fabulous sums We hear of,
bus still enough to help very much.
| was De RayteF. and they were
not money gettiog race.
''Giod shapei M palm, 20 co'lll holi
Ent llttls water in my hand,
Ana not much gold.
Not long after Robert weat away
Mrs. Tremaine died
She had been an invalid all her
lie nearly all the time confined to
the house, and part Of the time to her