The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1882-04-18
DON'T EE IT;

Amy Ludwick, a pretty country lass
Her flushing brown eyes were now din
with unshed tears, and Grant Burchard
at a distance, studied the rural pictur,
and smiled. 1t was manlike to smile
when he knew from her ~listless, dream,
air she was thinking of the absent; anc
he could have testified on oath that alb
sent one was he. 1t was manlike t.
smile when he noted the unwonted quiv.
er Of laughing, ruby lips, and the unu.
sual dewyness of sparkling, dancing
eyes, and was confident, as Of his exist
ence, that thoughts of him had robbed
the lips Of their steadiness, and the ewes
Of their flashing brilliancy; and he was
right. You would have known it by the
unspoken gladness hat shone out of the
dark, saucy face, as Grant Burchard
came in sight, softly humming Home,
sweet home"
II don't believe a word of it." sauci-
ly, as he entered the bower and tied the
sweet-briar in knots about her head and
shoulders.
Don't believe what, you little athe-
istp he asked, p~layfully. Don't believe
that you are my prisoner, and that
may be a cruel master, demanding pcn-
c for all the sins you ever commit.
tedP'
l dom believe you mean that song"
she answered, a little sadly. you sing
Home, sweet home and act as if YOU
were delighted to get out in the broad
world"
amy" (and the manly tones spoke
with a slight reproachfulness,) "you
know l love my home, and
He paused and showered the white
blossoms over her head, looking into her
shy, saddened eyes.
81 maynot say it." he added. Your
father thinks he is a wise man, and has
sealed my lips. Dear as is this simple
country place, l know that life has bet
ter work than can be done here. Nv
energies are cramped and my powers
are sadly limited. The opportunity of.
fered me for travel and Improvement il
a rare one, and 1 may not cast it away.
1t is a realization of a golden dream,
and when l return 1 will realize anoth-
er, and confound your fathers f~earsTr
He held her pinioned with the eglant-
Inc letters, but she tore them hurriedly
away, saying: :,
when you return you may despise 5
simple girl like me, and my father wish
es to spare me future pain in forbidding
all further intimacy until we know our
selves as years of separation will prove
US. That separation he insists must be
entire. We cannot even write, Grant,.
but we can think, and love, anS
wait" was the hopeful answer. "Yon-
der comes cousin Alice. / would say.
plague take herl only she looks Won
drously like you. Goodbye, Amy"
And the strong man kissed her trem-
bling lips and was gone.
Poor Amy! She was only sixteen, and
not much of aphilosopher. So thought
her father, as he watched the sad face
moving about uneasily. He changed
mis- opinion when she knelt on the stool,
at his side and inquired:
"Pa, can | go away to school?'
''You go TO schoolt' he exclaimed. 81
thought you hated school"
NO" she answered, gravely, a new
q hated it, and my teacher said l would
make a good student if l cared less for
fun. | am a real ignoranus, pa"
"Did Grant tell you so, Amy?"
"No papa" answered the blushing
girl. 'He sometimes corrected my gram
mar, but he thinks l know more than l
do. Even now he talks of subjects !
cannot understand. He is going out to
learn and improve continually, and if l
settle down 10 my old fun and incidence
he will indeed despise me when he re-
turns. Hove Grant, and / want to make
myself worthy of him. He will become
accustomed TO the society of polished
women, and L will seem utterly devoid
of polish. You are wealthy, pa, but l
would prefer education to money"
"And Amy" said the old man, tear
fully, "when you become a lady perhaps
You will despise the awkward, old blund-
ering farmer. l have heard of such
thing"
.'0h, pa, Aunt Hastings is a true la
dy, and she honors you as your daugh-
ter always must" said Amy, winding
her arms around the neck of her doting
father.
"Wen, child, write to your aunt to
find you a good school in the city. She
will be a good model for you. Amy,
child, if it were necessary, Would make
you a lady that you might win Grants
love, even if it led you to despise me.
viii Grant Burchard even love you bet
ter than that, think your"
1t was a question that stirred the
depths of Amy Ludwick's loving heart,
and kept her faithful to her ilial duty.
Five years later two gentlemen of pol
ished manner and easy address sat talk
ing in a New York hotel. Some contro-
verified point had held them in earnest
debate for u long time; butat lengthth the
elder of the two arose, saying:
"Grant Burchard, l like your devo'
ton to the memory of this country girl.
1t shows how true a friend you can be.
| But, in this case, l believe you are pre-.
| pairing for yourself a cruel disappoint-
ment."
"Grant Burchard was only half listen
ing. After five year spent in a foreign
land, he was still dreaming of the young
girl in the eglantine bower, and replied
as before:
"If 1 find Amy Ludwick as when ]
left her, 1 will make her my bride" -.
you cannot find her as youleft her.
said his friend, earnestly. ''Here il
Ralph Emery's watch against GRAM
Burchard's hat that she is already wed
ded to some neighboring farmer, anc
that you will fail to recognize your idea
Amy in the dumpy and il~literate house
wife. II she has not married, you viii
probably wish she had; for during thes'
i've years you have been adding to you
store Of knowledge, and unconsciously
gained a taste for higher pursuit ant
oompanionship. II this girl has no
gained, you viii find she has lost he.
youth, her simplicity, and all that nativ'
freshness you so much admire. Yol
shake your head ~doubtingly, ehP 'Eph
rain Is joined to his idols; let hin
alone Seeing is believing, however
With such a heart as yours, L pity yo,
when your idol lies before you fallel
and shattered"
And Ralph Emery looked with rea