The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1879-10-25

Rose. ' us
1t was winter as they came to that
and the skaters were making merry
She had come down to the lake with he,
uncle, who was a famous skater: haC
bound on her skates, and slid away with
him; had left him to tighten strap
had lost him, and had been found by
Adrian, and together they had glided
away; and then the late afternoon red
dened into sunset and purpled into twi-
hight, and they were skating up the
stream, and leaving all the cries and
tires and flashes behind them. How soft
and fresh was the vigorous air! how rich
the violet OF the gathering night how
great the glow of the wind shaken stars
NOW 1t was no longer hand in hand that
they went, but his arm was about her
they swept out on long curves together
and moved as if the pulses of one heart
lmpelled them: and now they turned the
corner OF a bluff; now, far out of sight
OF all the world, they paused, and there,
IN the wintry dark, they were folded
heart to heart and mouth to mouth. If
the SHOWS had fallen around them there
and clothed them with a garment of
death, II the ice had parted under their
feet and plunged them into the drown
ing waters, they would hardly have ask
ed any more. Their passion wrapped
them, so like Dejanira's robe of flame,
from all the freshness of death, that the
coming of eternity upon them in each
others arms would seem but its sacra-
mental seal. And suddenly rude,
hoarse cry broke in upon the sphere
where they were resting-the great
hoarse voice of Professor Redmond, and
Ella was snatched from Adrian's grasp.
and dozen singing words were whirled
at him, and the uncle had carried her
Oh as the wind carries off g feather.
Adrian skated back alone. He scorn-
ed to move till the professors heels cut
ting the ice could be heard no more.
Where had all that spiendor of the
night gone? 1t was the darkness and
GOODNESS of desolation now. He took g
terrible grind at mathematics that night
and the next day presented himself be-
tore the professor and asked of him the
promise OF his niece in marriage, only to
receive in return the latest and curtest
and most insulting of orders never to
" For all that ;" said Adrian stoutly
" shall marry my wife"
The professor looked at him and burst
into furious, roaring laugh. "Tooral-
looralp sang the professor. Begone!"
he Numbered.
The winter wore away at last, and if
the professor kept the Rose from her
lover, he could not keep the color from
the velvet cheek if he were near, the
glow from the darkling eyes if she were
there, the smile, forgetful of all creation,
on the lips of both. He began to hate
Adraln. He would have been glad to
mark him out of existence, if marks
could have done tout of his college
existence at any rate; but the boy gave
him no chance. He deserved no repri-
mand, and none could be tortured into
shape for him. He studied as a machine
works. He covered himself with laurels
all the more he would rather they had
been roses.
" Who is the beggar?" the professor
growled one spring day, when they met
him IN the square again, and, the bare
headed silent reverence ended, he had
passed on without greeting. "Who is
the beggarY growled the uncle Redmond,
" to whom you choose to give a glance
when | forbid it, who stand in your
dead fathers shoes? A fishing mer-
chants son, indeed One might sup
pose that, reared as you have been, the
very thought of such connection would
smell to Heaven -
Gle never touches fish," said Ella,
feeling obliged to answer, although if he
had been a fisherman on the Brador
coast, it would have made no difference
with her. He never sees them. He
sits at desk in counting-room, miles
away from the warehouses, and his
clerks write in books all day. And
Adrian will do so too"
" He is rich, then, suppose?"
{" Is hep she asked innocently. 81
never thought, indeed"
He is not rich enough to have you"
was the reply.
eyes, uncle, he surely will" said the
timid thing, solemnly, with her heartin
her mouth, but ready to die for her
faith. Then something in Greek ex-
ploded, loud and angry, from the pro-
fessor's throat; and he never again let
his ward out Of his sight when she had
crossed the threshold. Love laughs at
locksmiths without doubt; but this lock
smith was very skillful. It was almost
midsummer, and not one word had
Adrian heard from the lips of his Rose,
and letter after letter had been returned
unopened. But his ardOr was unchang
ed his love burned with the same white
flame, although there were only smiles
and glances to feed the fire.
And now at last the college life was
drawing to close, and Adrian was the
class poet. Perhaps his passion had
warmed genius into life; there had never
been such poem uttered there before;
but no other poet had had those tender,
yearning eyes before him with the tears
suspended in them, that face so like
flower in the fresh dew. More organ
grinding" growled the professor.
The lovers met in the press, for one
instant, not long afterward, as that por-
ton Of the exercises ended. And when
he left her side a great bunch of red
roses was in her hand, the most deli
cious dewy roses, whose perfume swept
around her like an atmosphere. But
the professor had relieved guard. His
lynx eye caught sight of white gleam
among the roses. He took them sudden
ly out of her hand, distracted little
note, and gave the flowers back to her.
Then he slipped the note into his coat
pocket.
1t is pity that the professor did not
read that note before next day. This IS
what was written there:
"MY RosE.-If your affection for me
is all it was, is all that my adoring love