Arizona weekly citizen., 1882-05-14
SWEET SIXTEEN.
Nc -Esthctic Editor naunders over . Couple or Lively school Girls and Advises them Co Die Noang-

or Lively school Girls and Advises them
 Co Die Hoang-
 Detroit Free Press.l She was in palace car munching car amels and laughing Cnly as girl can, you know, with her sweet face all dim pies, that played bO-peep with each other and the very mischief with me, om In that 1 am-
 There were two of the witches, bet the other one seemed a shade demure; had. suspect, that most uncertain of all pas- sion under the sun, lJver, who pFoba- bly had written to her for the long eternity Of twenty four hours: hence the int Of . shadow across the sunshine of Ee joy.
 How rosy and beautiful they looked, dipping slender finger and thumb into bag Ot sugar plums not but sweeter than they-and laughing at their own delicious, fancies, as If life held nothing graver; and just wanted to hug both of them, anyway.
 My dimpler wore brown sacque. half slipped of from one rounded shoulder, full of cunniugest dimples, no doubt her hat of many pOkes and plumes and other mysteries, am~ng which angels would fear to tread. bObbed and nodded tantalizingly Ou top of most cO4uettlsh bangs, wh:le her blue eyes fairly danced. 50 brimiul of fun were they.
 How | shuddered to t.Ink of the un- love, possibilities hidden away among the shadows of the years-the cruel, cruel yearsl They would bring her the stern necessity of wearing her brown sacque circumspectly on her dimpled shoulders; her fluffy hair, of the color of pale gold that the June sun rains down on the tasSels of corn, defiant now of uaud or braid, drawn back m prOperest precision; a ridiculOusness Iu vestlng ten cents m VIlalnOus bon bOns, and munchinG, regardless, in q car of solemn wiseacTcs; 1ud, worse than all, the sup pressed ciggie of society limitations, if, from the wreck of matter, anything re- mains to smile at.
 And then the longing of soul for new bOnncts and things; the hankering after kindred spirits and antique soup bowls; the refuge If Sunday headaches: the wo'riment of wasbdays and church sc- cials; the broken friendships and shat tered painted China teacups; the plan ming Ot 56j dinners, tO say nothing of breakfast bash and afternoon teas, year after year, all the way through; the | cdEelccS LloIulhE WEdpPtE duu BtBcId1 slipshodness of home belongings; the unopened piano and much read novel; tue gOssIr, the shrugs ard the rest. So I said in my troubled heart hut SO low that none might hear, to her of the dimples and mischi ef-lurking blue eyes, laugh on, my rosy unknown, for my soul hears no sw6eter music under the blue arch that is sald to shut heaven from our upward gaze; munch CaTGmels to your hearts content, though the world frOwns its worst. Time enough to draw down the corners of your kiss able month into fOrlOrn little puckers, when the aforesaid world sball push, and hurt, and gr1eve you; time enough to hush .he ring of your merry laughter when the unfriendly winters shall 'pelt you with snowballs,' instead of the pink and white roses the spring time losses you to- day.
 II only fashion would keep her de- structive clutch from your young hfe.if tlattery with its treacherOus train would pass on by the other side, If only they wOuldl
 Better that the gods love you, and you go softly out some sbll morrow, ID search of tue shore from whose blossom ing borders no leaf or bud even comes drifting across the backward tide, better and safer.