Louisiana capitolian. (Baton Rouge, La.) 1879-1881, 1881-06-28
MY LOVER. GOOD.
BYE
A PICTURESQUE Parting-A Scene to
Thrill Heart of Marble.
Louisville Couier.J ournal.

lng WHICH Is heroic, tileIt Is always
sorrow in saying farewell, which con-
socrates the moment to virtue. "My
Native Land, Good Night" was not
the irony of the departing poet. Those
who have heard Farewell, My Own"
warbled By an exhausted tenor with
the late "Pinafore" troupe of last sum-
mer can appreciate the ineffable sa
dness OF the thought.
The picturesque story OF a parting
between two young lovers OF Louis
vile has somehow grown to whis
per, and is causing a sensation in
certain knowing circles of this city.
Several days ago young man, who
was about "sailing out into the West"
in search of fortune and fame, found
the day of his departure at hand and
far young girl with black eyes to
be left behind. They were "sweet-
hearts," with the approving smiles of
parents, and he was going Vest to
make nest somewhere in which he
would in time install her. But the
brightest hopes and fondest expecta-
tons of the future could not dispel
the sorrow of parting. Two or three
years, though nothing in the life work
or life happiness of the young people,
is a dreary waste to those separated
after a daily companionship Of years,
from childhood to maturity.
And so he was cast down and she
was all red with weeping and ner-
vous with emotion. But, brave girl,
she would not let him see her sorrow;
she would bid him God speed with a
bright face and cheering words. And
so resolving, she tried herself to sleep
the night before. The next morning
she arose late, and, anticipating the
last call, hurried to make herself
fresh and bright for him. But quick
on the heels of her rising, a carriage
dashed up 10 the gate, followed by
prolonged pull of the bell, and III a
minute more the departing lover was
in the parlor.
II have just time" he said to her
mother, breathlessly, ITO bid her
goodby and catch the train"
But !" cried the mother, aghast,
"she is in the bathroom y
"Then let me shake hands with
her through the door, for have but
ten minutes in which to get to the
depot"
1t was a a critical moment, but
her heart full of sympathy for the
two young people, the mother said
yes, and, leading the way through
the hall and upstairs, showed the ex-
pectant young man into the room of
his adored one. 1t was the shrine
OF innocence. The white drapery
of the bed tumbled like the crest of
chopped seas, told of recent rising.
By its side a pair of tiny boots ard
little limp mass of colored silk mute
ly testified to an uncompleted toilet
which other carelessly thrown arti-
cles of sacred mystery in female attire
about the room proved. The glance
OF a moment carried this scene to the
young mans heart. He was on sa-
cred ground, in the best of purity. A
few words were hastily called through
the door by the mother; there was a
little suppressed scream, and then the
door opening quickly, but cautiously,
let out a dainty little hand, all rosy
with the innocent blush which starting
from the heart went thrilling to every
tip. Just the hand, with glimpse
of white arm. Selling it he covered
it with kisses, saying farewell the
meantime; the mother standing near.
Suddenly, there came a crash,
scream, then dead silence from below.
The young lover stood dumbfounded
to see his adored ones mother, prac-
teal to the core, rush out of the room
to the scene of disaster, leaving him
with the bathroom door ajar and his
weeping sweetheart behind it, and
her warm hand in his own. Talk of
moments weighted with sensation !
Not all of a dish of early cucumbers
in tho ran,Orcafrl stomach Of q duc