The times and democrat. [volume] (Orangeburg, S.C.) 1881-current, 1883-08-16

fa5i iad. good uinoredly. And now,
since you viii not, I will go and try
my rifle in the glen.
1t was still summer afternoon, at
the hour which the gay world in these
mountains, with rare exceptions, agree
to sleep away. Slight danger of meet
ing any, save my own ilk-some
huntsman or dreamy artist to whom
nature would give no rest; and with a
keen nsense of freedom and comfort 1
strobe down the rocky glen. Laugh
ing at Jack, now, heartily, yet wlthal
in a thoughtful mood, somehow lis
words haunted me. Could it be that
Jack was deeper in love with this
little girl from Chillingworth than any
one vet knew? I had never been in
love, but supposed even to man so
subject to fleeting fancies there came a
time
"When other lips md other hearts
Their tales of love shall tell"
Thought paused. and I was sudden
" in the path. For this moment,
from below, voice hoated up the old,
sweet song--a very angels voice it
sounded in this mountain solitude. l
stood through the verses, spellbound,
yet involuntarily smiling as the legend
came to mind. Glen Mary had its
weird, they said. a gentle maiden
wandered here day and mig mt, striving
ever to WOO back her faithless lover
with the songs he loved of yore. No
mortal had ever seen or heard her; the
matchless face, the enraptur;ng music,
were far beyond all earthly ken.
I was never romantic man, but l
grew dazed there, beneath the spell.
How pleasant, if such things were
if I stood, now, the one favored NOR
tai within sound of this secret singing,
about to look, mayhap, into the Won
drous face of poor Glen Mary, to-
to"
To carry the news to Jack? Such
was the odd finale dawning on me, as
suddenly the song ended in wee, but
emphatically earthly, scream, which
sent me flying down the ravine in the
direction from whence the voice had
come.
Glen Mary, indeed! A dainty, nine
teenth-century maid, wearing a Wat
teau mountain dress and terra-cotta
mousquetaires, bent over high ledge
Of rocks, exclaiming pitifully as she
gazed beneath. Her broad-brimmed
hat had fallen off, and, as startled at
my step, she turned, I saw the beauti-
full face had seen peeping from the
coach-window not quite an hour ago.
She regarded me blushing, but with
an open expression of vexation.
"I frightened you, guess" she said,
naively. 81 am sorry, but I lost my
roses. my lovely jacqueminot. See
them scattered all the way down the
Aclff."
Oh, that was it," I replied, bend
too, to look below. Somehow the
,of those jac' roses impressed me
moment as the greatest aifliction
could befall a human being. The
despite her frightened protest
ofxard and look, I was climbingdown
the rocks.
1t was not an easy feat. The stones
were slippery, and the tough vines in
the crevices held the roses prisoners, at
broad intervals, the who.e length OF
the cliff. But was Lent on having
them every one, even to the poor
broken-leaved by the creek. It was
the proudest achievement Of my life
when at last climbed back with them
to her.
"Thank YOU, OH, thank you" she
murmured. with smile and frank
look of admiration which set MY heart
to beating rs never girl had made it
beat befor.. "Will you take few as
trophies of your yictory?"
I had sat down opposite her on the
plateau l was locking at her with q
sudden, strange feeling that had the
right. Surely when man has worked
sohsrd to please pretty girl he has the
right to look at her; this was my
simple thoaght. For I was new to
love, slow to realize my own stirred
soul. I took the flowers, just thinking
. / would like to kiss them, If dared.