The Brookhaven ledger. (Brookhaven, Miss.) 1875-1883, 1882-01-19
Compensation.

Expands the bow OF peace.
Compensation.
sAch, / have no letter from homer
We were sitting, Herr Schenning
and /, in the shade of s,tme young
redwoods, far up in the mountain
side, having strayed little from
our own band of picknickers. The
trees, scarce moving in The light
breeze, dropped their long shadows
down the grassy SLOPE where, in
the sunny places, the yellow butter
flies fitted in and out 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 picknickian revels to desc
crate their solitude, Through our
sympathy with this beautiful spirit
Of solitude there had fallen upon us
a long silence.
"What news have you from
home" / asked Herr Schenning at
last, merely by way of saying some
thing.
Without movement Of a muscle
to show that ne had heard me, he
continued to gaze at the mountains,
or rather far beyond them, to some
white clouds slowly sailing through
the blue. ! 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 flood gates burst, came
the cry:
Zach, 1 have no letter from
homew
He buried his face in his hands,
and with dismay l saw the swift
falling tears slip through his fin
gers, but the stormswas as brief as
it was intense, Herr Schenning
was not one to give way to maudlin
grief.
"You must think I am a glitter
ing IDIOT" he said, as he laughingly
shook the last tear from his fingers.
"No," l answered, II think you
are homesick, and l know the mis-
cry Of that malady."
"Yes; in fact, had sudden and
overpowering attack of it. Your
question was a drop added to my
hearts full cup. That tree point,
ing to a fir tree that rose majestic
ally to the sky), with its waving
and whispering boughs, bore me
far through yonder calm sky to the
Fatherland. / was boy again,
and had strayed to my fayorite fir
tree at the edge of the forest; rock
ed in it's branches, heard the wild
songs of the woodland, l saw the
silver cleaning of the Murg flowing
down the Rhine; I saw the bloom
ing orchards, the bird haunted
grove and the little white house of
Blumenwald. The fragrance of it's
tlower-garden came to me across
the meadow, and l knew who walk
ed there, wearing in her golden hair
the blue flowers that loved-my
little Barbara. l cannot remember
the time when ] did not love her,
and think of her as mine. For her
I struggled and won my school-day
prizes; for her I sought to make
myself wise and honored; for her
sake, who had no gold for her dow
er, only her sweet self more pre-
cious to me than all the gold of
California-Heayen knows too pre-
cious, l thought, to be degraded by
the slavery of our old-world life of
pov erty-for her sake I put aside
her little clinging hands and kissed
her pleading mouth, and came away
to this great, golden land oi Amer
ica. /, so wise with my Latin and
Greek, so skillful in metaphysics,
so deep in all the subtue science of
the old-world's savants, came to
California to make my fortune.
laugh to think how / have groped
and stumbled in the broad bewi.-
dering light of this splendid young
world, while those who can scarcely
write the plebeian names they bear
ldig into the mysterious earth and
lift their hands glittering with treas
ure. At home, might have walk
led with Princes. Here, poor, i'll
clad-shaIl | say it?-sometimes
weak with hunger, / wander uncar-
ed for, except when some gentle
heart like yours brings me, for pity
LOT my loneliness, into a pleasant
lday like this. But forgive me fol
showing you SUCH broken spirit
| "Broken! Oh, dearw exclaimed
strnggling wildly with my tears
81 should think it would be like
THAT of Mrs. Plovinst's father. pull
4 lverized, crushed quite out of you
Herr Schenning," I added, abrupt
lly, awhy don't you put your pride
lin your pocket and go home"
4 He laughed.
aAlas! my pockets are too small
land, beside, it would not be accept
led for fare. No, / have committed
suicide; / have no place, there O.
here. If I should one day slip from
these sun-loved heights into SOM
black abyss, where even the star
llipht fails, should not be missed
uWhat" said I, mot even by tn,
little Barbara, who is waiting fo
Won in her Blumenwaldy
ssHeaven" he cried, in anothe
j excess Of despair, "there is no on
waiting for me. Think you such .
fool. such beggar as / should b
worth that? No, the father wa
fright; he did well to marry her Il
Herr He;mstcher, whose broad OF
lchards stretch to the verge of ou
loved forest. Frau Barbara is rich
/ trust, and happy, with her fair
HAIRED children clustering at he
9 knee. If she ever gives though
Ito the lover who left her SO lon
lago, it is to smile at the airy lik
future he promised her, though
dare to hope that sometimes, whe
the voice of my Ar tree comes 7
her through the twilight, Or Whe
Ishe plucks those blue flowers fror
Ihcr uarf1nr. eha will remember "a