The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1880-10-21


Since then, gently leading from SORROW and harm
In the desolate days that come to us all,
Thank God for the memory Loved Tokens recall
ONE DEBTS PAYMENT.
1t was the dusk of evening, and night
shadows were quickly gathering in the
little German village through whose
outskirts two lovers srolled.
They had left behind them the Gotta
ges, and had wandered of among the
green fields and under the shade of the
trees, behind which the sun had almost
sunk to rest.
It was the old story, the story of. their
loving. They had been betrothed since
the girl was fourteen. It was well. nigh
five years now, and on her nineteenth
birthday they were to be married.
She was an orphan, and her snug dow
ry, lying 80 safely nestled away in the
village bank, she had accumulated by
the labor OF her own hands. But a shade
was on her lovers face to night, and
even in the shadow her quick eye dis
cerned it. -.... r.. ..
Using to me, Hans,'' she whispered,
knowing that IN song Hans Werter for
got all else.
After moments silence, he obeyed
her, and the sleepy birds woke in their
nests and almost indignantly drew their
heads from beneath the soft shelter of
their wings, to listen to this strange, Won
derful rival to the sweetness of their
notes. The air was filled with the ex-
quisite melody. It rang full and clear
andlsweet. It sank down to the violets
as they stirred IN the listening wind,
then scared to the stars.
Poor little Marguerite! Hans music
always brought the moisture to her blue
eyes, but tonight 1t seemed filled with
something she had never heard before,
and her little hands were tightly inter-
laced, and her red lips parted in sort of
painful ecstasy.
But at the close she was all unprepar-
ed to see him end the last note IN dry
sob, then fling himself down on the
sward and bury his face in his hands. W
"Hans, what is it?' she cried, sinking
down beside him, and trying to raise his
head upon her breast.
Was he weeping9 She had never in all
these years seen him thus moved.
His powerful frame seemed shaken to its
inne1most centre by the torrent of emo
ton which swept over it.
Almost rudely, in has unconsciousness
to all but his own suffering, he repulsed
her, only the next moment to be filled
with remorse. ...- rA-5
Conquering himself by mighty
effort, he drew her to him with gentle
force.
"Forgive me DEAR" he said. softly,
"but never ask me to sing again, Marguer-
1te. It only teaches me what I might
have been, and what I am. Think what
it would be if had the money to reach
Italy! I could have the world at my
feet, Marguerite-I could be great and
famous. I know 1T feel it. But am
chained here, tending my herds and feed
ing my cattle, pow erless to break the
chains. I need so much money-so
much and have SO little. Though I
sold all I have in the world, it would not
bring me to my journeys end. No, no!
must give it all up; but neVer-neves
ask me to sing again.
The girl answered him nothing, as she
stroked the hot brow with the little, cool
hand, which, all Drowned and hardened
as it was, fell very softly, very lovingly,
In her eyes he was a king, this shep,
herd lad. Instinctively she knew that
silence Is ottentimes more healing than
speech land besides, q wonderful, dazzling
thought had crept into her own busy
brain, and driven all lighter thought
away.
Still, silently they rose, and walked
silently heme. At the door OF her little
cottage, he stopped and kissed her on the
brow, as they stood beneath the stars.
In two more months he was to share
her cottage-the home left her by he1
dead parents-so they both hac
thought scarce an hour agone. Tonight
Marguerite knew differently.
How much would it bring, the sale O.
this humble little shelter?
1t was this problem which ban1sheo
slumber through the long night hours
It was solved three days later, when the
sum for its possession by strangers lay IL
her hands, and, added to it the nest-ege
from the bank, made in the chiid's eyes
fortune.
What mattered 1t that she was beg.
SOAC0s IL Wd5 4Ok noAS SdACl ~ WAX
now her turn to be silent, as, hand-in
hand, they walked beneath the golden
studded sky.
She felt, for the first time, timid, al
most afraid, in his presence. That she
had performed an act of honest heroism
she never dreamed. BE was hero; she
was but little humble maiden, whose
proudest duty was to serve him.
"Hans," she said at last very softly, 81
have been thinking, dear, since the 9th
er night, and-and Hans, we won't bt
married yet awhile. A wife would only
pull you down, instead Of helping yot
soar to the birds, where you belong. ]
don twant you to think Of me. I wan
to go away and study to be great sing
er.''
In the gloom, the man could see the
pallor on the speakers face, as it grew
reflected On his own.
care you mad, Margueritee" ne gues
toned, at last. "I've crushed the dream
chlldl Don't float It again before m,