The Portland daily press., 1883-09-17

| 1lOt sSS tu610s lnere WOulu uOL De q QdV
that Miss Munson would not say things
that were so many little hints of rare
| sweetness and beauty of nature, which her
| shyness and quietness did not let appear all
| at once.
s, She was rather chary always of giving very
broad glimpses of herself. | was ALWAYS
more or less puzzled and evaded by her.
though she was evidently sincere, child
like woman, with liking for simple pleas
nres. She took genuine delight in picking
little bunch of flowers in her garden for
neighbor, and in giving those little tea par
ties. She was religious in an innocent, I'M
questioning way, too. | oftener than not
found an open Bible near her when | came
IN, and she talked about praying as simply
as one would about breathing.
But the day before | left Ware she told
me very peculiar story, by which she dis
played herself to me all at once in fuller
| light, although she revealed such a charac-
ter that l was, in one way, none the less
puzzled She and were sitting in her par
| lor She wasEfeeling sad about my going,
and perhaps that led her to contide in me.
Anyway she looked up, all at once, after
little silence.
'Do you,'' she said, "believe in dreams?''
"Tbat is question l can't answer truth
fully replied, laughing. 81 don't really
know whether l believe in dreams or not"
81 don't know either" she said slowly,
and she shuddered little. ST have mind
| to tell you," she went on, "about a dream
had once, and about something that hap
| pened to me afterward. never did tell any
one, and | believe would like to. That is,
if you would like to have me,o she added as
timidly as child afraid of giving trouble.
assured her that would, and, after a
little pause, she told me this
81 was about 22,' she said, "and father
and mother had been dead, one four, the
other six years. l was living alone here
| with Margaret as | have ever since. have
thought sometimes that it was my living
| alone so much, and not going about with
| the other girls more, that made me dream as
| much as did, but / don't know. fused
| always to have great many dreams, and
| some of them seemed as IL they must mean
something; but this particular one in itself
and in its effect on my after life, was very
| singular.
1t was in spring, and the lilacs were just
in bloom, when l dreamed it. | thought l
was walking down the road there under the
elm trees had on lilac muslin gown,
| and carried basket of flowers under my
| arm. They were mostly white, or else the
very faintest pink-lilies and roses. l had
| gone down the street a little way, when
| saw young man coming toward me. He
had on broad-brimmed soft hat and vel
| vet coat, and carried something that looked
| odd under his arm. When he came nearer
| could see that he had handsome dark face,
and that he was carrying an artists easel.
| When he reached me he stopped and looked
| down into my face and then at my basket of
flowers. stopped tool could not seem to
help it in my dream-and gazed down at the
| ground. was afraid to look at him, and
trembled so that the lilies and roses in my
| basket trembled.
FINALLY he spoke, Won't you give me
one of your flowers he said-sjust one@
81 gathered courage to glance up at him
then, and when his eyes met mine it did
seem to me that / wanted to give him one
of those flowers more than anything else in
the world. / looked into my basket, and
had my fingers on the stem of the finest lily
there, when something came whirring and
tanning by my face and settled on my shoul-
| der, and when turned my head, with my
| heart beating loud there was white dove.
"But somehow, / seemed in my dream to
| forget all about the dove in a minute, and
looked away into the young mans face
again, and lifted the lily from the basket as
did So
But his face did not look to me as it did
before, though still wanted to give him the
lily just as much. stood still, gazing at
him, for moment; there was in my dream
a sort of fascination over me which would
not let me take my eyes from him. As
gazed his face changed more and more to
me, till finally-I cannot explain tit looked
at once beautiful and repulsive wanted
at once to give him the lily and would have
died rather than give it to him, and | turned
and fled, with my basket of flowers and my
dove on my shoulder, and great horror of
something, / did not know what, in my
heart. Then woke up all of a tremble."
Miss Munson stopped "What do you
think of the dream?" she said in few min
utes. 500 you think it possible that it could
have had al Sin oh
you think it merely sleeping vagary of
romantic, imaginative girl?"
l think that would depend entirely upon
after-events, | answered; ''they might or
might not provo its significance"
"Do you think sop she said, eagerly.
swell it seemed to me that they did, but the
worst of it has been l have never been quite
sure-never quite sure. But will tell you,
and you shall judge. A year from the time
dreamed that dream l actually met that
same young man one morning on the street.
| / had on my lilac gown, and | held sprg
| of lilac in my hand had broken it off the
bush as l came along. He almost stopped
for second when he came up to me, and
| looked down into my face. l was terribly
| startled, for recognized at once the man of
| my dream, and / can't tell you how horri-
BILE and uncanny it all seemed for minute.
There was the same handsome dark face;
there were the broad hat and the velvet coat.
and the easel under his arm. Well, he
passed on, and l did; but was in fiutter
all day, and his eyes seemed to be looking
into mine continually.
ga few days afterward he called upon me
with Mrs. Graves, a lady who used to live
in Ware and take boarders: she moved away
some years ago. l learned that he was an
artist. His name was-no, l will not tell
you his name; he is from your city and we'll
known. He had engaged board with Mrs.
Graves for the summer. After that there
was scarcely day but saw him. We were
both entirely free to seek each others soce-
| ty, and we were together great deal. He
used to take ae sketching with him, and he
| would come heIe at all hours of the cay as
unconcernedly as a brother might. He
| would sit beside me in the parlor and
watch me sew, and in the kitchen and
watch me cook. He was very boyish and
unconventional in his ways, and / used to
think it charming. We soon grew to think
a great deal of each other, of course, al
though he said nothing about it to me for
long time I knew from the first that
loved him dearly, but FROM the first there
was, as there was in my dream, kind of
horror of him along with the love; it kept
me from being entirely happy The night
before he went away he spoke. We had
| been to walk, and were standing here at my
| door. He asked me to marry him. looked
dream about giving him the flower, when all
| Of sudden his ice looked different to me,
| just as it did in the dream. cannot ex-
| plain it. 1t was as if saw no more of the
| kindness AMI love in it, only something else
| -evil-and the same horror came over me.
CT don't know how looked to him as
stood gazing up at him but he turned very
pale, and started back. My God Caroline,
| he said, what is itf'
| 81 don't know what said, but it must
have expressed my sudden repulsion very
strongly; for, after few bitter words, he
| left me, and l went into the house. l new
| er saw him again. l have seen his name in
| the papers, and that is all
Snow want to know" Miss Munson
went on, ''if you think that my dream was
really sent to me as warning, or that l
fancied it all and wrecked-no, | won't say
wrecked-dulled the happiness of my whole
life for nervous whim?'
She looked questioningly at me, an ex-
preston at once serious and pltiful on her
| delicate face. / hardly knew what to say
| 1t was obvious that l could form no correct
| opinion unless | knew the man. wondered
| if did. There was an artist of about the
VIC 1I1,,a T H..