The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1880-07-23
ssTHE DAY WHEN YOU'LL FORGET
Me-
BY ETHELIND RAY.
From the Portland Telegram.

From the Portland Telegram.
Greta st. John sat in her little, rose
covered arbor, waiting for her lover,
while the twilight deepened and dark
ened into night, and the moon rose
slowly above the distant mountains, and
looked peacefully down upon the fair
and beautiful scene.
All was silent, save for the monotonous
croaking of the frogs, in clear, little
pond near by, and to which Greta
listened in grateful pleasure nything
was better than that calm, sitting still
ness that had fallen over her-that
dreadful suspense and waiting which
seemed so long she could scarcely live
through it.
Clyde Leighton had gone to ask Mr..
st. John that all-imporSant-that much
dreaded, much feared-question, which
all honorable lovers, whether timid or
bold, are forced to- ask, sometime in
their lives; q. e. if he would trust his
daughter to has care for lifel
And as Greta sat there, awaiting his
return, she felt certain that her poor,
little, frightened heart had wandered
from its original home, and found a
resting-place in her throat, where it was
now huttering and throbbing in q way
For her father did not like Clyde, and
she knew, only too well, what his answer
would be.
At last she heard him coming, and his
slow, weary step, and sad, bitter face,
told the truth more plainly than any
words could have done.
Greta went to meet him, and he took
her silently in his arms, and held her
close to his heart, for moment; then re-
leased her, and threw himself on the
rustic bench, with sigh that was almost
a groan.
Greta knelt down beside him, and
drew his head on her shoulder.
my poor Clyde" she said tenderly,
"Cheer up, for you still have me and my
love. What did he say, dear? ?"
s'He said that if we would be true to
each other for five years, without meet
ing once in all that time, he would give
his consentr'
The color faded slowly from Greta's
cheek.
Give years. she said, with a sigh,
"Why, I will be quite an old maid by
that time, and you will not love me
then, Clyde"
'sNot love your cried Clyde, pressing
her passionately to him, 80, my dar-
ling, it is only for you that fearl You
will surely forget me when I am far
away, and other and better men plead for
your love. And yet, dear, I cannot give
you up! Promise me, Greta, swear, by
your love to me, that you will be trueW
"Clyde," {" said the sweet voice reproach-
fully, show can you doubt me? I
promise, dear, but ohi you must trust
me not at all, or all in allP You will not
doubt me again, Clyde"
"Never, no, neverp' said her lover sol
emnly, fno matter what happens, or
wherever I go, I will still believe you
truer
so, darling, tonight we must part;
it may be for years, and it may be for
ever; SO make me one more promise,
Greta,-if ever I am i'll, or in trouble,
will you brave your fathers anger and
come to me?"
Eyes, Clyde, willr' The sweet voice
was low and steady. Sand you, oh!
Clyde, I will not ask you to promise to
be true, for k,aoao you Wilt will not
wrong you by any wicked doubts for a
single moment. You are SO good and
noble, Clyde-you have been SO kind
and tender to poor, little me, that l am
afraid cannot live without you. Tell
me once-just once Clyde-that you do
not respect me less-that you do not
hold me cheap-because, I tell you SO
frankly that my whole heart is yours,
and because I do not refuse your
caresses. Tell me, Clyde, that you do
not, for sometimes feel that there is
more of pity than loue in your kisses!'
s'My dear Greta, murmured Clyde re-
proachfully. chow can you ask me such
a question? Would I ask girl whom
did not respect, or whom held cheap,
as you suggest, to be my aoJe? Nay, dar
ling, the sweet assurance of your love
for did you not love me, you would not
allow me to kiss you-is dearer to me
than all the worldl know you are a lit
tie bit of firt, Pet, but I know, also,
that you are not flirting with mel
't,-a1st yo1 all in allp And now must go!
Farewell, darling, and sweet angels ever
attend theep'
One moment he strained her to his
heart in passionate embrace, then re-
leased her and strobe quickly away in the
darkness. And as he went, q song hoated
out through an open window just across
the street, and he paused involuntarily
and listened. Greta, weeping alone, in
her little arbor, listened too, and her
tears fell the faster
"You call me sweet and tender names,
And softly sinooth my tresses,
Auo al Gne WnlIe my nappy neart
Beats Time to your caresses.
You love me in your tender way,
answer as you let me,
But ohi there comes another day
The day Uhea yoitu forget naef"
The sweet voice of the singer died
away, the frogs hushed their noisy
croaking, and the flowers swayed gently
beneath the soft zephyrs, throwing
out little whiffs of fragrance All the
world seemed cold and desolate to Greta
-even the stars seemed to have forgotten
to pity herl
Five years stretched out, blank and
cheerless before her. What did they
hold for her? What blessings? What
sorrows?
30, Clydel Clydel" she sobbed, bury
ing her face in her hands, "I pray God
that the day will never come when you'll
forget meP"
The weeks heightened into months
and Greta stif1ed her hearts bitter MUIR
murs, and bore her trials as only q |
woman true, noble-hearted woman