The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1880-03-04
THE SACRIFICE.
TFRoN THE FRENCH OF HENRY GREvrLLE,l

Maurice was wandering aimlessly in
the depths of the forest. 1t had ceased
raining, but the drops of water were
still rolling from leaf to leaf with the
light sound of a nearly-exhausted foun-
tain trickling into its half-filled basin
aud in the distance the dark path opened
out into wet glade of deep green of
exquisite softness. The trunks of the
trees were very black, their branches
blacker still, and the massive boughs of
the chestnut trees above the young
painters head seemed like the high
arches of cathedral at the hour when
all is dark in the church, and when the
co!ored windows cast into the gloom
CLEANS of light so intense and so mys-
terous that you would think them lit
up by fire OF live Goals from without.
Maurice loved this hour at the decline
of day, when, after the rain, the sun
has not shone out, and when gray tint
is cast over everything, blending out.
lines, softening angles and investing
every shape with smooth and exquisite
roundness. He walked slowly, discover
ing every moment in the well known
forest some beauty till then unknown
ard he was thrilled to the very depths
of being by that tender admiration for
nature which is one of the characteristics
of genius.
Baving reached the glade he looked
around him. The grass was green and
brilliant; the delicate leaves of the
shrubs, shining beneath the water which
had washed them, formed fine, lace
like network against the dark back
ground of the great forest beyond He
stopped in order to see better, to observe
better and to take in better the impress
sion of the wet forest, more impressive
and more human so to speak, in its great
shadows than beneath the sunshine in
all the splendor of the day.
The pretty and graceful figure of a
young girl stood out against the foliage
of the birch-trees. She advanced with
a supple movement, without perceiving
Maurice, who, as immovable as the
trunk of a chestnut tree, was watching
her. When two steps from him the
young girl perceived him. She started
and let fall few twigs from the fagot
of wood that she was carrying on her
head.
"You frightened me-" she said, smil-
ing, and her large black eyes shone out
merrily beneath the tangle of her blonde
bair.
He looked at her without answering.
A complete harmony which no words
can render, reigned between the slender
figure, the laughing face, the lace-like
foliage of the glade and the tints of the
landscape.
"Stand STILL" said the young; "I am
going to take your portrait"
She wished to push back her hair,
which had fallen over her face, but he
prevented her by gesture.
Remain as you are"
He seated himself on a stone and
sketched rapidly the outline and fea-
lures of his young model. She was
peasant, but delicate and refined as the
young girls of the peasantry often are
before their complete their often tardy
developm ent. The eyes were already
those of woman, while the smile was
still that of child.
" How old are your asked the painter
still working.
" shall soon be sixteen"
"Already! 4" saw you three years ago
little bit of thing"
I" was very little" said she, with
pretty laugh, and frank and bold as
sparrow; " but | grew fast, and on st.
Johns day ! shall have lovers"
"Why, on st. Johns dsyT asked
the young man, stopping to look at her.
because one must have lover to
dance with around the bonfire"
So soon! That pure brow, those inno-
cent eyes, that childish mouth, all
these were to be profaned by the boOr-
ish gallantry of a rusticl Maurice felt
vague jealousy avn inhis heart.
will you have me for lover?
said he, resuming his work.
"Oh, you! you are a gentleman
and II am peasant; good girls do
not listen to gentlemen"
That is the village code of morals;
the young man answered nothing.
" / cannot see any longer; will you
come back here tomorrow, little
earlier?"
For my portraitP
eyes"
"I will come back. Good evening,
SIR"
She raised her bundle of wood and
went away into the deepening shadows,
beneath the archway of the dark chest
nut tree.
Maurice went home dreaming of the
fair haired child. He had seen her