Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1881-06-22
The Dreamer.

Winter had come, swiftly and silently,
in Bernc, shroudingthc Alpine nights in
mists of snow, covering the face Of earth
with pure white pail, fascinating in It's
beauty, but fatal as the charms Of Lady
HOLE of Eisenach, when by the CLEAN
of her golden hair and the witchery OF
the love.light in her eyes she lured Tam
hauser into her mount TO his dcstruc-
ton.
Icicles glistcned like jewels from the
ewes of the houses, and the hoar frost
traced mystic pictures on many a win
dow.pane. The birds huddled close
together, hoping for warmth from COM
panionship, but the Erl King breathed
on them and they fell dead.
Little Bertol would sob every morn
ing when he found one on the door
step:- =,
"Nlutter, I must give my bread to the
birdlings."
"Nein, nein," she answered, shaking
her head sorowfully. "fhe cold has
frozen the rich mems hearts as it has
the birdlings, and we might want"
The high mountains looked down up
on Beme, nesting at their feet like Il
mother upon child, and their heads
seemed lifted into heaven as if in suppl
cation for its needs. The Jungfau was
clothed as u bird in virgin white, and as
the sun kissed her forehead ere he went
to rest, she blushed in rosy glow, and
all the lovely valley of Lauterbrunner
reflected her beautiful color.
It was Christmas Eve. Sounds o
mirth and laughter, mingled with wail'
and groans filled the town. The ricl
danced and feasted, the poor starved an(
wept.
1.-THE snow is like MARBLE" Bertol ex
claimed. 81 have made a man. Would
that it were stone so it might last"
"Hush, child" the Mutter replied
1--WE must think of bread, not stone"
we will take our savings and go !,
America" the father said. "The la(
will be done with his dreaming then"
Bertol was tall, slender lad, will
great dreamy eyes. He worked with hi'
father on homely sabots, ofttimes in
serting delcacy in the arabesque pat
terms he traced upon them. The neigh
bors shook their heads, and said -
"Some day our Bertol will be great.
But the Beme peasants were ignoran
folk, and knew nothing of the grea
world beyond.
Bertol went to school, and learned o
Greece and Rome. Genius was tin
plant hidden in his heart, stirring ever.
fiber of his being. Its yield was mys
terry still, its flower nameless. Once, il
passing shop, he saw cast of TIN
Venus of Melos, an aphrodite, VIII
sprung from an unknown hand. Th
sea foam was incarnate in her being
Her MASTER whether Phidias or Alca
menes, was one whom genius inspired
Bertol dreamed of the Venus. Her fea
lures were engraved on his memory
her image was ever before him in hi
divinity. But her arms were wanting
that marred her periectness.
"When / am grown" he sighed, "
shall search all Greece until l fin
Them"
The time was set for their Journey
The night before Bertol stole softly out
The wind was cold and bitter. TIL
large white moon shone with clea
light over the sleeping world. He wen
to the shop window; pressed his fac
close to the pane. 1t hurt, but he fel
it not, for the moonbeams were shinin
on the face of the Venus. She, toe
looked cold and white as the world.
"Good-by!" he murmured fondly, q
to human being. 81 shall neve1
never forget"
His heart ached when he saw the poe
INITIATED arms, and she seemed to smil
at him so ritvingly
Old Hans shook the snow from hi
feet ioyfully, and they sailed over til
seas to new world, and travelled man
weary miles until they reached til
Golden state.
ave will go mp to the mountains,
Hans said, "where we may have land fc
he tax ing"
at is heavenlyw Bertol exclaimed O
they neared the Sierra. at is our Alp
only more beautiful 1t is our moul
tains newborn in the spring-timeP
"Yes; but in the winter, snow cover
them, too Hans replied.
"But is the weeping of youth, not ag'
father"
Their worldly possessions were few
so few, when they left the train, the
were easy to carry.
Hans was fatalist in his simpl
fashion, and literally carried out his b.
liefs. II is not bad sort of philosoph
for wiser heads. Man strives and freI
against fortune I; yet, after all, what
written shall be, and, like Gagged birt
he breaks his wings in beating again
the bars.
Some one at the wayside station tol
him he would find deserted miner
cabin some miles up the gulch so b
exultingly said to the good Mutter -
| aTf 10 tho Gnoar of Drovi1anca