Phillipsburg herald. [volume] (Phillipsburg, Kan.) 1882-1905, 1883-02-15
THE HAND OF FATE.

When was still going to school, in
the graduating class, to be sure, and
past sixteen, and very large for my age,
four of us made up our minds, on Satur-
day afternoon, to have our fortunes
told.
There was gypsy camp out on the
common beyond the town, with vans,
tents, cauldrons and the whole para
phernalia of gypsy life, and everybody
walked OF rode out to visit it. We de-
cided to walk, and as it was bright,
cool day, enjoyed ourselves much better
than if we had been cooped up in the
stage, or even in a carriage.
1t was October. Some of the foliage
had changed color little, and there were
red and golden tints amongst the green's.
Now and then the wind shook the trees,
and scattered showers of leaves upon
the road. Purple asters and golden rod
were still in bloom. Here and there
grew crimson squaw berries, and bitter
sweet burnt like gold along the stone
fences. Each of us gathered a great
bunch, and we held them in our hands
as we entered the path that led into the
hollow where the camp lay. Young and
romantic, we were ready to be delighted
with everything the swarthy
gypsy selling colt to a stout farmer;
with old grandmother handling a dusky
baby on her knees, and the dirty, black
eyed children squatting about every
where.
There were visitors in plenty, and most
OF the women were busy telling fortunes.
AS we approached, woman, who had
been sitting on fallen log, arose, and
man, who had been talking to her,
pulled his hat over his eyes and turned
away, like the villain in melo-drama.
The woman wore Wide-brimmed straw
hat, with a wreath of artificial flowers
around it. Her hair was dressed stif1ly
and primly in well-oiled "bands." She
had lowered delain gown, and little
red wooden shawl covered her shoulders.
She certainly was neither young nor
beautiful, as the Gypsy maid'' of song
and drama must inevitably be; but she
smiled amiably upon us, and calling us
''pretty young ladies'" asked five would
have our fortunes told.
Clare, our spokeswOman, declared
that to have been our intention in COM
ing, and we soon proved the truth of the
adage, ga fool and his money is soon
parted" by dropping each dollar into
the gypsy's palm.
"Who shall l begin with, pretty
ladiesP" asked the woman. ''And will
you have your fortunes told privately or
together?"
Glare answered that we had no secrets
from each other and that "this Young
lady," indicating Belle with the point Of
her parasol, would be the first to have a
glimpse into futurity."
Belle, blushing rosy red, put out her
little hand, and we all listened while the
gypsy told her that some one with a
title, a lord or duke, would cross the
sea to fall in love with her; that she
would live in palace beyond the ocean
and be waited on like queen. There
was more, but have forgotten it. Belle
was delighted and Rose was the next
victim.
The gypsy told her that she would
marry a great musician, and we all
laughed, for we knew that Mr.. MarteIli,
who taught the piano to the graduating
class, was very much in love with her. .
Then Glare seated herself on the old
log and opened her hand, palm upward.
It was large and handsome. Glare was
something like ''Lady Jane, not pretty
but massive" The gypsy told her that
she would be soldiers wife.
Oddly enough it really happened not
year afterwards. We were all at the
wedding. The next day Colonel v
rode out of the town at the head of his
regiment. He never came back. Clare
wears her widows vail for him vet, and
his miniature lies over her heart day and
night forever.
But where have I strayed TOP Letme
go back TO the bright autumn day, and
the gypsy camp, and the four school
girls, half hooking, half believing, very
merry and a little frightened. 1t was
I hnfO =,
eyed woman, with face like a smiling
ened as she peered at the lines in my
palm.
''You are tall young lady, Miss, -
she said, at last; ''but you 90 to school
vet. You are fond of music, and YOU
have an elderly gentleman relation who
takes you out a good bit to places of
amusement and the like. 1 don't see
whether it's your papa or your grandpa,
but it relation"
This was so true that came nearly
crying out, at is Uncle Henry" but I
bethought myself in time.
''You wear blue a good DEAL" she
went on, land you have blue fan. At
a concert one evening you dropped it.
The gentleman who picked it up is to be
your husband. The stars say So"
Chow white you turn, Essie," cried
Clare.
81 feel faint I said. It's true 1
dropped blue fan at the opera when
Patti sang TraViata, and a gentleman
picked it up, but should not know him
from ADAM
You'll meet him again, however,
Miss, said the gypsy. ''Some Sunday at
church he will hand you a prayer-book
with the place marked with a
flower; when you see that you will
know your fate has come. His first
name is Robin. He has black eyes.
blAVk halF agd Q dimglS N bic chin deep