The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1881-06-10

character" )" Gerald was saying, "but you
must not think Vera is as frivolous as she
appears. You haven't seen her best side.
She is fretful and capricious before you
| because I think your Indifferent manner
rather piques her. The spoiled child is
| very young, and has been spoiled by too
much admiration; she is accustomed to
see every man she meets do homage to
her pretty face.
The answer came musingly and alb
sently:
eyes, your cousin might be pretty
nay, beautiful-in some eyes, but to me
there is something wanting in her face,
perfect in outline and color though it
| is-the Undine needs soul"
| NV glass shows me two dark, mischiey-
GUS eyes, set in round, fair face; a
| small. curved mouth and a straight
nose.
ssUndine needs soulp'-what could
he mean? But my mirror does not pos
| sess like gift with the ancient oracle,
| and turn away unanswered and dissat-
| isfed.
| The last week of our visitors stay has
drawn to close, and he has gone.
| All! truly in three short months of
| daily companionship, have grown fully
| to understand Gerald's admiration for
| Austin Buchanan. Never before have
| had such a mine of varied and entertain
| ing knowledge unlocked before me. Of
things above the esky-reverently touched
upon; of things below; of the marvels Of
| foreign countries, and of the interesting
| objects in our own-upon each and every
| topic he has been equally at home; and
| though he has paid but little attention to
me, I have quietly listened and benefited
by what have heard. Now that he has
| gone awake to find that, like Gerald,
| / have allowed hero-worship to spring
up in nv heart, that I miss his quiet
| football, and that, though fear he does
not even like me-deems me doll-like
and frivolous-I have grown to care for
| this grave, plain man, SO different from
the shallow youths of whom I meet a
plenty in society.
When ask Gerald he readily tells me
| all about his friend, and I learn how it
was that he came to be lame. How, when
| a mere youth, he had been present at a
| large fire, and how, when no one else
had dared, he had climbed to \ ladder in
| the face of the blazing flames to save a
| little child. The ladder had broken be-
fore his descent had been completed, and
he had fallen with the little one in his
arms. The child had been unharmed,
but then it was that he received the in
jury which made him cripple.
As I listened to Gerald's enthusiastic
| description of his friends brave act my
| heart stirs and throbs within me. This
is the man of whom, in my girlish
| thoughtlessness, spoke slightingly, al
most contemptuously.
HIS STORY.
There is q lull in the storm-for at
least three days have not been called to
any new cases, and at last I think may
safely say that the cloud is lifted, which
| for the past month has lain so heavily
upon the people of this Inflated town,
i where for so long fever and disease, bred
of foul smells and bad ventilation and
drainage, aggravated by privation-for
nearly all the mills have stopped work
on account of strike among the en-
ployes-have held sway.
I write hopefully, and well may, for,
together with the Joy of knowing the woe
about me is abating, into my own life
has dawned an overwhelming and un-
looked-for radiance. I will tell how it
has come about.
AS one morning, a month ago, went
my rounds, in one of the hospital wards,
bending over patient, / saw new
| nurse.
watched her moment unseen, when
suddenly, as she slightly turned her
head, recognized one whom had not
| seen for five years. Notwithstanding the
stiff regulation dress and the close cap
| which confined the hair, / knew her
| for was it not face which the more I
had tried to forget, the more it had re-
mained engraved on the inmost tablets
| of my heart. I had seen it first when a
| dear friend had persuaded me to give
myself q short rest to recruit, at his
country home, the health which my
| arduous duties had impaired. I went,
promising to remain a month, if nothing
urgent recalled me. I found an ideal
home, such as one reads of in books,
situated in spot nature must have cre-
ated with smile upon her face.
| The hostess, gentle, gray-haired
lady, made me cordially welcome.
| "a friend of her sons was as her
own," she said.
| There was another inmate Of my
friends home-his young cousin.
! A gay, radiant creature, with music
! as of rippling brooklets in her merry
| voice, and face full of fun and laugh
ter, but without particle of earnestness
/ uuG0rlylQR 16S VaIl6Q- SXpE6SSlOu. L
could see that she shrank from me at
our first meeting, and I learned the rea-
son. was cripple, and she was one
to whose exuberant health and beauty
loving nature any deformity or weak ness
| gave a sensation almost of repulsion.
But as we grew better acquainted, as the
| passing days opened out to us each
| others character, her manner toward me
| changed. Though she suspected it not
| "a dangerous one to me. had thought
her incapable of any seriousness of feel
ing; now I found my mistake. I had
thought her specifically fair, but soon
came to find beauty in her girlish face,
SURPRISING that of any other had ever
seen.
The time flew by until the day came on
which had decided to go, and it was
| well that it was so; for T. knew then that
almost unconsciously, an all-absorbing
love had been growing up in my heart
| for the beautiful girl who was no more q
fitting mate for one like me than dainty
humming- bird would be for grim,
sombre raven.
Not for such as she was work-day
life like mine-even had not been as
was-a cripple.
So I went away, thanking my kind
entertainers and binding with cords of