The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1879-07-09
A WREATH OF ROSES.

man tHMu- ihdI mans HpItlltb cpuju-
he had 80 wished, have shaken hand
out ct the window with his opposit
? neighb0r-
The sun that shone 20 bravely else
where was seldom visible here only il
the early morning a few golden CLEAN
found their way in, and gave faint en-
coura9enent 10 the two or three flower
that blossomed in pots on the windoV
sill
On such occasions Hans would pausl
in his work. knowing full well what wa
coming-how tie easement opp0sit,
would De flung open, and a girls voice
singing a biithe little French song
would ring across the silent street t., Iii
listening ears; how "a sim, pretty tigur,
would for 4 moment stand framed in the
hiossomiug scarlet runners, a pretty
figure. with dark French eyes, anl
black hair, drawn up under white cap
q beautiful contrast, 50 Hans thought
To- his cOmeiy, yeliow-haired country
/ women. As soon as this vision appear
ed Hans would pause in his work and
turn his eyes towards it; would wait
until the watering Of the flowers and
the singing Of the song were alike ended
and then would approach his window
." Good morning" his neichbor would
call across III that pretty foreign Ger
man that was 50 enchanting to his ear
- Good morning, Monsieur Gotrlieb, y
and then with nod and q smile the
trim little figure would vanish into the
/ dark shadows, and Hans return to his
, work
But though life was two busy with
these too, and bread difficult enough to
/ win, even when one worked hard for it,
50 that neither could afford to idle away
the minutes to talk, yet Hans, as he
worked, dreaming Of the days when
stone-carving would not mean daily
bread, but honor and glory to those he
| loved, was pleasantly conscious all the
time Of a dark head bent over a table
drawn close up to the window opposite
| a table covered with many bright-col-
ored scraps of muslin and paper-which
| in due course, under these deft, small
| hands, became summer flowers; at this
short distance seeming to the looker-on
| the spoils Of a June garden.
| Thus they worked day after day, these
| two, SO near together, yet SO far apart,
abstaining from all conversation which
might have made the days pass more
| quickly; but then an hours idleness
might mean going supperless to bed, so
that even Rose Cordier, dearly as she
loved the sound of her own voice, re-
Trained from making use of it, except
for an occasional song. But when the
day was over, when the GOODNESS in the
little close street, and the shadowy gray
of the strip of sky overhead gave no.
tice that the long summer day was
drawing to an end, when the small
room grew dark, then Rose would rise
and open the door, to interchange greet
ings and gossip with the neighbors-
with the women sitting on their door
steps, knitting in the peaceful twilight,
their children playing about them;
with the fathers returning from their
work with the young men lettering
about smoking, for Rose had always
bright word and look for every man
woman and child she knew.
And they were all fond of her-of
this little foreigner who had come
among them four years ago with an old
mother, since dead, and who earned her
daily bread honestly among them.
Then As it grew even darker, Hans
Gottlieb would become aware that the
day and its work were over and would
lay aside his chisel, aud also seek what
little fresh air there was at the door of
his dwelling. lie did not laugh or Cos
sip with his neighbors. rs did Rose Cor
der: it was not his way. and this fact
was quite recognized by the dwellers in
William street. Beyond Good even
ing, neighbor,' they did not seek to
disturb him in the enjoyment of his
evening pipe, only occasionally Rose
would step across and ask him what he
was at work upon, or if he had good
order, and then poor Hans, flushing all
over his fair face, would proceed 10 de
scribe his work, his prospects, until Rose
with Il pretty shrug Of her shoulders,
would tell him III her foreign German
she could not understand him; he must
speak slower, much slower; il was too
late now, but tomorrow YES tomorrow,
he must try and explain it all again,
for it was interesting. But for now it
must be good-nigh, goodnight to every
one, and the Slight, trim figure had
disappeared. and the door was closed.
The neighbors, watching Hans a. he
strolled up and down the little street
atterward, pipe in mouth, nodded and
smiled to one another. "Ah, when
there Is enough for two over yonder,
there viii be a wedding~ such was the
form the whispering took.
Even the hardest workers take a holi-
day now and again, and the feast of St.
John the Baptist is esteemed in Freid-
ricburg the legitimate summer holiday
of all its industrious inhabitants The
happy day is spent according to an old
custom at a small village some three
miles distant from the town, where a
time-honored fair is held.
Lon-tamer, fat women, dwarfs, giants,
all the hundred and one shows that are
the rightful property of a fair are to be
found there, and later on there is dane
ing under a soft evening sky, and after
that, home early, so as TO be up and about
on the morrow, to work, if possible, har-
der than ever, to makeup for the wasted
day
To Rose Co1dieF, with her quick
French blood, her youth, her ight-heart-
edness, this fete was one to which she
looked forward for many weeks before
hand, and the little foreigner knew she
was never likely to want cavalier, and
this was looked upon as almost SINE
qua non of the entertainment
The neighbors smiled more than ever
when they saw Rose come out of her |
door the morning of the twenty-fourth |
of June, looking as fresh and bright as
the red roses in her belt, and Hans APP
pear Immediately afterward, compan-
ion rose in his button-hole
They were all standing about in little |
groups preparing to start themselves to |
the scene of festivity many of them |
with babies IN their arms and little |
things clinging about their skirts, but |
they had time to give an admiring glance |
at this other couple first.
g Before We start, said Hans sudden |