The Valley Virginian. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1865-1895, 1882-06-29
Chicago Sentiment.
"Is it not beautiful, sweetheart 2"

us it not beautiful, sweetheart"
AS Lillian Mcclure spoke these words she
looked into Rupert Hetherington's face with
her starry eyes, and, as the light of holy love
shot forth from within their dusky depths, he
telt indistinctively that she was going to hold
him up for some ice cream. But, conquering
the sombre reflections that this CHASTITY thought
called up, the young man placed his arm
around Lillian's waist to prevent her red sash
from being sunstruck, and waited in the tense
agony of horrible suspicion for her to speak
again.
do you not think it is lovely, darlng?"
"What ?" asked Rupert, with an ingenious
Ow-Club expression on the perfect features of
his West-Side face. -
why, the morning, to be sure" replied the
girl, sunny, six-buttoned smile playing light
ly around her lips as if afraid it might tail in
"The twittering of the birds, those silver
throated harbngers of summer. is TO be heard
on every branch and bough. The air is laden
with the delicate perfume of lilac and apple
blossoms, while the dew kissed leaves of yon
sturdy maple reflected a little of the crimson
and gold of the rising sun. Spring has been
a sad laggard, but now that she has come in
all her glory Of bud and blossom, what can be
more beautiful" a.
81 cannot tell you" replied Rupert. "You
are far too fly for me, dearest, when such mat
tiers are to be discussed But in the dreamy,
sensuous days of autumn, when the tasseed
corn hangs ripe in the sheayes, and the leaves
have felt the blighsing touch Of the Frost
Kings icy breath, | am more liable to get
there. Mine, as you know, is a sensitive, Sedg
wick street nature that shrieks from contact
with a cold and cruel world To me the
spring has naught of joy. The low, mellow
note of the new mich COW chasing butchers
wagon in which her offspring uneasily reclines
seems TO me like the wall of Il lost soul, and
weird fancies crowd my brain as hear at mid
night the mourniul boot of tie owl, fitting
like some evil spirit amid the desolate precincts
Of the village churchyard"
"It is your liver, darling" murmured Lillian.
81 sometimes think SO" was the reply
Ever and anon the thought comes over me
like black demon of the night that ain off
my feed. But it cannot, must not be- Yet in
the autumn all is changed. The soft mezzo-
tints of the pumpkin pie fall gratefully on my
eye. and all nature, laughing in the fruitage
OF an abundant harvest, seems joyous and free
from care. 1t is to tell you this that haye
come around so early this moriing-to tell
you that in the months that are to come, the
scorching days OF midsummer, when the sun,
hanging like ball OF molten brass in the sky,
will send down its rays in pitiless fury, you
had better get another felow-one who will
| love you dearly as have done, and whose
memory you can ever cherish with tender gen
| tleness"
But whom shall get!" asked the girl in
agonlzed tones. aa
Il have thought of this, sweetheart" Rupert
| replied. "You can do no better than take Geo.
w. Simpson. He loves you dearly. i know
it,because he has often toldme that he doesn't,
4 and George cannot tell the truth" NE
Il will do as you say said the girl, chok-
ing back sob that was yelling up from her
breakfast. ''And now good-by."
$50 long," said Rupert, kissing her as he
spoke.
The girl threw her arms around his neck,
kissed him with a passionate pump-suctlon
kiss, and went into the house.
Rupert walked around the country, where
| he met George Simpson. ,
"Dld you fix it?" asked George.
| "Yes," was the reply, sl
(which do l get, winter or summer
Summer Fs
"You are in luck, as usual, old boy. They
tell me she can beat the record, eating ice
cream"
YES" said Rupert, "hut think Of the oys'
tersr'
"True," replied George. Il had forgotten
the oysters