The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1882-01-10
COMPENSATION.

1. In the a of some young redwoods,
Tar up h mountain side, having
strayed alittle from our band of picnick'
ers. The trees, scarce moving in the
breeze. dropped their long shadows
down the grassy slope. where in the
sunny places the yellow butterflies fit.
ted in and put among the purple lilies.
The madronas spread their broad and
shining leaves to the sun. delighting in
its fervent heat. and making cool shades
where the deer might rest when there
were no picnickian revels to desecrate
their solitude. Through our sympathy
with this beautiful spirit of solitude,
there had fallen upon us a long silence.
What news have you from homer
l asked Herr Schenning at last, merely
by way OF saying something.
Without the movement Of n muscle
to show that ho had heard me, he con-
tinued 10 gaze at tho mountains, OF
rather. far beyond them. to some white
cloud slowly sailing through the blue.
1 was about to repeat my question, but
paused, seeing the color deepen on his
dark German face. and presently, with
a great sob, as the food-gates burst,
came the cry: L
Zach. Gotti 1 have no letter from
homer
He buried his face in his hands, and
with dismay l saw tho s~wift-falling
tears slip through his fingers; but tho
storm was as brief As it was intense.
Herr %Schenning was not one to give
way to maudlin grief.
You must think 1 am a glittcring
idiot" he said. as he laughingly shook
the last tears from his fingers.
NO." / answered 81 think you ara
homesick. and l know tho misery of
that malady."
Eyes; in fact I had q sudden and
overpowering attack of it. Your ques-
ton was a drop added to my hearts
full cup. That tree pointing to a
fir tree that lowered 10 the skyS"with
its great waving arms and whispering
boughs, had borne me far through
yonder calm sky to the Fatherland. !
was a boy again, and had strayed to
my fnvorito fir tree at tho edge of the
forest; rocked in its branches, I heard
the wild songs Of the woodlands; 1 saw
the silyery cleaning Of Murg flowing
ldown to tho Rhine; tsaw the blooming
orchards, tho bird-haunted grove, and
the little white house of Blumenwald.
The fragrance Of its flower-garden
Jeanne to me across the meadow, and /
knew who walked there, wearing in
her golden hair the blue flowers that I
1loved-my little Barbara Lean not
,remember when / did not love her, and
think of her Us mine. For her 1 stud
led. and struggled, and won my school
day prizes; for her 1 sought TO become
wise and honored; for her sake. who
had no gold for her dover. only her
sweet sell. more precious to me than
all tho gold Of CaliforniaAheaven
knows too precious, 1 thought, to be
degraded by tho slavery OF our old
world life OF ~poverty-for her DEAF sake
Y pus aside the little clinging hands, and
Kissed her pleading mouth, and came
away to this great, golden land OF
America ]. so wise with my Latin and
Greek. 50 skilled in metaphysics, %
deep in all tbs subtle science OF the old
world savants, came to Cali In to
make my fortune. 1 laugh think
how I nave CROPPED and stumbled in the
broad, bewiidering light of this sp!en-
did young world. while those wt' a
scarcely writo the plebeian nan 5 they
bear, dip down into the m oriou'
earth and lift their hands with glitter
ing treasure. At home, l mi ht have
walked with princes. Hero, rp1r, i'll.
clad, and-shall 1 say itP-so" etimes
weak with hunger, l wander u 'cared
for, except when some gentle no rt like
yours brings me, for pity of my 'oneli-
ness, into a pleasant day like this. But
forgive me for showing you such a
broken spirit
..Brokenl Oh, dearT' L excl lined.
struggling wildly with my tears. 81
should think 1t would be like that Of
Mrs. Ptovinsts father, pulvarized,
crushed quite put of you. Herr Schon.
ming" / added, abruptly. ''why. don't
you put your pride in your pocket and
go s o% Iangbea. T4A2 she
..Alasl my pockets arc too small,
and, besides, it would not DO accepted
for fare. No; l have committed sui
eide; I nave no place, there or here. II
l should one day slip from tho sun-lovei
heights into some black abyss. where
even the starlight fails, | SHOULD not be
missed"
..Whatr' 1 said, "nrt even by little
Barbara, who is waiting for you in
her BlumenwaldP'
..Mein Gottr' he cried. in another
excess of despair, there Is NJ one
waiting for me. Think YOU such a
fool. such n beggar as | wouli bo worth
thatP No, the father was ri .ht; he did
well to marry hor to Herr Heimstcher.
whose broad orchards stretch To the
verge of our loved forest Frau Bar.
bara is rich, l trust. and happy. with
| hcr f~air-haired children clustering at
her knee. II she evor gives a thought
to the lover who left hor Sc long ago.
1t is to smi Q ut THO fniry-like future he
promised her, though L dare t., hope
| that sometimes, when tho voice OF my
fir tree comes to her through the t~i.
light, or when she plucks those little
| blue flowers from her garden. she will
remember me with : litIlo tt,rOb of tie
old love. God bless hcr-and pity a
poor devil like me-"
The fir tree waved It's long arms III
tho f~resheniug breeze; the shadows
crept up from tho gorges and spread
along the hillsides. rs IL seeding him
who had spoken of their dark retreats
the bold outlines of the Palisades
showed stern and frowning against the
sky, but the face OF st. Helena, grand
and sweet, lay smiling toward the
west, waiting for the. sunset glory and
the SOLEMN starlit night
How il could have happened to the
ever-splondid Ulrich and myself to lose
our way, 1 can not imagine, but we
achieved that brilliant feat. Driving
quite by ourselves in the rear Of the
small picnicking procession. wo fell in,
to further talk Of Californian ways.
was trying TO impress mein-herr will
the fac that he was too young to cal
his life q failure; that no one ut an,
age, in California, need despair, unles
ho lay down like 3 coward. and let TIL
crowd rush over himi that he mus