Arizona weekly enterprise., 1882-07-15


 men with waltz, and tete, and re- partee.
 But under tho feet of those who tread volcanoes the ground will sometimes break one cannot forever safely walk the edge of the precipice thin ice will part.
 They were sitting side by side, as usual, one evening ; the window framed a calm, mild star. Sitting so silently, how strange if they had known each was saying over and over the same name. The star was shining kindly-shining and twinkling like an eye mildly shrewd, and then 1t gave place to another and another, till the night sky seemed shaken full with lustered dust. Pres ently Miss Richardson began to hum {. little, in her soft contralto, and Marthy's bird-like soprano took 1t up like carol, under breath. The men under the dull lamp in the further end of the car moment. and the fretful baby ceased its crying. Two women hushed gossip ing, and stared, and, under pretense of a flare. the passing porter turned down the flame in lamp while he stopped to listen.
 "Marthy," said Miss Richardson, very gently, "where did you learn that? It's such an old-fashioned, senti- mental thing. shouldn't wonder if it had been Iove-song in 1776."
 "Ob, yes; I shouldn't wonder if it had 1 learned it way back in Yer mont-oh, how far away that seems now! 1 used to sing it with Richard but that seems only yesterday, though it has been years and years. I've never told you about Richard, have |? His name is Powers, and 1t is he that I'm coming to California to meet. A long, long time ago, when I was such little girl ] scarcely remember it, some kind of sickness broke ont, and mother and father took 1t and died. l can just see mother lying with a white flower in her hand as they closed the coffin lid, and then in day or two some woman said she wondered what was to be done with me. Somehow or other got to grand pas ill among the hills, and the cows that gave me 8 living. Grandpa was just my mother to me over again, and there stayed and was so happy with him. l have always been a little girl, and never shall be anything else. When I am an old woman 1t seems as though shall still be little girl How 1t all came about never could imagine, but 1t was just as the flowers came up in the spring. and AS the fruit gets ripe in the fall Grandpa said one morning he should have a young man come to help me with the milking, and before night knew Richard and, somehow, I think I must have been ripening ready to know him, for my heart was all open to him from the first. He came up to me when 1t was twilight, and said he, Good evening, Marthy, and then l seemed to fall into & futier, and to feel that he seemed to know it. Oh! I never can tell you how Richard seemed to he. Every night, after that, as went along the meadow path he came and said, Good evening, Marthy'-iust so and took to listening so Lard for his com ing that my heart hurt ne, and beat in my lips and cheeks, and all the time grandpa never knew. Uae day the sky was so blue and the air was 50 sweet I was certain that something was going to happen, and whether 1t was the birds singing or my heart beating out rhythm I 4O ACt hl1On, OuO III A1OL4CAb X seemed to be standing among the flowers, for Richard had taken me in his arms.
 "Oh, life had just begun to me then, and not one day since, not even the dny grandpa died, has been all sorrow though dark days there have been. too, for in few weeks more my Richard went away, so that by and by he could marry his bud of a girl that's what he always called me Oh, how tender and true he is What grand place bis heart is to live ini What little queen he has crowned me His letters have been so loving and so sweet that one never came without carrying lie through the space of heaven; and they were such sorry little ones ! could write in answer So many noble women must have loved him But he has loved his little Marthy all the time. An, Miss Richardson" and her earnest, reverent tone deepened in its half whisper, "can you imagine anything Ut ail about what I tell you?"
 "No," replied Miss Richardson, bit terly, |" for there is no romance, not ono grain of 1t, in my life. The romance had was spoiled just short time ago. Keep your faith in your Richard, Mar. thy, but have none left for man. You must go oil now and let me know the rest
 "I would rather die than lose my faith in Richard" said MartIy, tremulously. "There Is such a little more to tell, ," she went on then; call the time his letters told me he could not afford to come he was waiting in hopes, and, oh, if the time was to nim as to me, then to both 1t was creary, dreary waiting. And grandpa began to fret; hs wanted to see me married before he died. But one day, month ago, o,.he died, and left me alone with the cows. Then. to show Richard how much yet loved him, and how little I cared whether he was rich or whether he was poor, 1 wrote him a glad letter, that was coming to him aj last. And, oh, 1 am coming to him soon, soon. When 1 reach the end ol my journey, there he will be to take me home-his home. 1 can almost sec hin now, 50 glad to find me again.
 She was moving restiessly about like the wind, and her hands were winding their fingers About each ether, her eye' shining, and her chin with its clef pointing into ray of the moon. 1T think I know your Richard" said Miss Richardson, by-and-by. ''He is q tall, handsome man with blonde eyes and hair, and pleas ant, bright way with him. You know live in Sacra- mento. too."
 In few minutes the porter came along again, and Miss Richardson gave orders to have only the lower berth made, " for we will sleep together to- night, Maithy,' D she said, quietly.
 So all the night long she lay awake, with her arms around little Marthy. All the night long, thinking and think ing, she lay with the sweet breath of the trusting child woman falling on her left hand the hand was now shorn of its sparkling ring.
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