The Hickman courier. [volume] (Hickman, Ky.) 1859-current, 1882-11-24
MISS EULALIE,s ELM.TREE.

1t was a magnificent work of nature.
Miss Eulalie's elm-tree; so tall and grace
ful. overhanging the street with its
green banner. lending n charming shade
10 her little parlor. which gave it the air
of a dim, cool recess in the woods on a
,rmmer's day. Miss Eulalie loved it..
and, except for her gay young ward, it
would seem as if she had little else to
love. Her grandfather had planted it;
it was a sort of heirloom. She had pas
sed her youth beneath its boughs; her
name was carved on its stem She
never looked at the tree without think
ing of the one who had carved it there;
of the still, moonlight nights they had
spent together in its shadow. 1t gave
her both pain and pleasure-pleasure
because 1t reminded her that he had loved
her once; pain, that he loved her no lon
ger. She could not guess why he had
never returned to her; what had es-
tranged him was still rs great a mystery to
her as in those early DAYS of her bereave-
ment. when sorrow and suspense had
been her daily companions, rising up
and sitting down with her. Perhaps
some fairer woman had enslaved him,
perhaps he had never really loved her
ut all, and she experienced a pano of
mortified pride when she reflected that
she had possibly been vain enough to
make the mistake, Year bv wear she
watched the tender green of the elm
thicken into dark masses of leaves; wear
by year she watched them fading and
falling. like her own hopes and illusions;
1t was poem to her; and vet. after all;
1t was only Miss Eulalie's elm-tree by
permission. The home of her ancestors
had fallen into other hands; she had only
returned to 1t by happy chance, not as
its owner. Mrs. Vaughn, the purchaser.
had a daughter to be educated, and Miss
Eulalie had taken the situation. When
Mrs. Vaughn died, she devised that Miss
Eulalie should make home with Isabel: |
be mother, sister, and teacher, all in |
one, to that wayward young person, till |
she should marry-in short, stand in the |
gap. Miss Eulalie had been used to |
standing in gaps all her life; this was
nothing new. And it was a home-her |
old home where she had dreamed /
dreams. When she walked at twilight |
beneath the old elm its leaves seemed to
whisper, Just here he kissed you first
and Here you said good-by." No
wonder she loved the old treei
= dangerous thing" said Captain Val
entine, tapping its trunk with his cane
as he walked by; - hollow-hearted as a
jilt, Miss Eulalie''
. You are mistaken she reioined:
" it is as sound as NUT
. But 1T must come down. he added.
as if his word were law.
- NeUer, while live, Captain Valen-
= You forget that am man of prop
ertyi that pay more taxes than anv one
IN Littieford; that L can buy ever tree in
the place, and cut it down if / choose y
Then it is only from pure good
nature that You beg my consent to cut
down this exquisite tree? Do you know
have loved it from child; my grand
father planted it,
. know that Miss Isabel owns the
whole estate, and ! know that this bone
OF contention, this tree, obstructs the
view from my windows, Miss Eulalie.
"hicn Is more TO the point-that its
ooughs leap INTO the air so high and
spread their branches so wide that il :
Olots out the view of the sea, the open
sea-; and he passed on up the lone
green lawn to his new home, with its
marble steps and broad balconies, which
made its humble neighbor seem forlorn
md shabby. Miss Eulalie looked at the
imposing structure, at the parterres of
brilliant flowers, at the fountain tossino
IS jets into the sunlight, the velvet ter,
aces and lawn, and smiled. Why bad
laptain Valentine chosen to build his l
'alace so near her home? Why had he
'uilt at all, at his time of life, with no c
amily to inherit, and no wife to do its 1
onors? How lonely he must be, she
hought, in the spacious mansion, with 4
obody but the servants to speak with. b
Why had he never married? In the hu- Il
lility of her heart Miss Eulalie never v
reamed that it was because she would a
OF marry him. That had happened so n
lany years ago, before he and Anson v
ndrews had sailed together in the Water I
Fitch- How angry he had been theni a
ow jealous of Ansonl How bitterly he n
ad sworn that the day should come when
ne would give her hearts blood to re- S.
all the words-when she should regret G
er folly in dust and ashesl But, of N
Durse, he had forgotten all that-the Il
wings of an untamed nature. He had Il
zen only second mate then. with little o
: nothing ahead in the world; to-day he Z
as Captain Valentine, with the world "
his feet; the richest man in town, per- m
Fps. S,
You might have been mistress up m
ere, Miss Eulalie.' he had reminded re
= one uay, pduslng at nef gateway al
r the house was done. 'But you took til
'ur choice-yo took your choice, and'' til
laughing they tell us that beggars w
ouldn't be chosers.' fir
From the very first Captain Valentine la
d raised a hue and cry about Miss w
ilaiie's elm-tree; it almost seemed as
he had selected the site TO tease her, be
II he wished to strip her of everything as
e loved, since she declined to love of
nself II have bought the most ex- de