The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1885-10-30
SELECT STORY.
CYRIL TREvOR's wOODNYMPH.

oalcOny overlooking tne basse GlaDte
at Pau. had been spending many
months there with my uncle, who re-
quired change for his health.
Through the window | saw my uu-
Gle, Lucius Treyor, reclining in an arm
chair before the smoulderirg logs upon
the hearth. The attitude of reposc,
the flexible, goodhumored lips, now
parted in genial smile, fatty contra
dicted the comparison, and left no
doubt as to the character of the good
old gentleman.
'Im glad you've come in," he COM
menced, as | sat down. "Cyril, my
boy, what do you think of getting
married ~
"a proceeding in the abstract natu-
raj; in particular, unpleasant" l replied
"What has suggested the idea, now.
sir?'
"My old age, Cyril, and failing
health" returned my uncle; "and you
arc the last of our race. 1t would be a
pity to let the family die out. You
ought to marry, Cyril" Up went the
eyebrows, and the freight executed a
jig on the tip of his nose.
| groaned. This was an old point of
difference between us. could not
recognize in his ardent desire to see me
settled in lite any reason for burdening
myself with companion whose SYM
pathies were likely to be at variance
with mine. Even the prospect of an
heir was not sufficient to lessen the dis
like l had conceived towards all of the
feminine gender. Allowing that the
sentiment was unnatural in a young
man, 1t certainly increased in exact
proportion to the eagerness my uncle
showed to provide me with a wife
against my inclination. Therefore it
is not surprising that the impending
discussion provoked anything but graf
itude in me.
"Iu my opinion" continued Mr.. Ire
vor, sit isn't good for young man TO
wander about the world with plenty of
money in his pocket and no response
bility to steady him. Why don't you
choose a pleasant girl to share the cares
of Trevorhurst with you when am no
longer here? There are as many as
one could wish for, even in Pau, my
boy"
"Oh. as many more!' was my cyni-
cal response. "Only. preferring to be
married for merit rather than money,
should like to know something of the
young lady herself, aud thanks to fol.
ly and fashion that feat is well nigh
impossible. Can't we let the subject
drop, sir am thoroughly tired of it. ."
"Now, Cyril, just listen. You repre-
sent the good of life to me. l took
you when your parents died reared
You as my heir-my son; and you have
always been good lad-always. |
can't last long-you know I can't. l
grow weaker every day. Do me this
favor. This one favor. Promise to
look seriously about you while we are
in Pan. l will not ask you TO propose
to any one. No, no! But to please me,
to crafty an old mans whim, consider
the subject seriously"
Enough, sir ~ | answered, touched
by this appeal. 81 give you my prom.
ise. You deserve far more than that
from me. / will think the matter over
carefully, and do my best to meet your
wishes
"Thank you, my boy!" exclaimed
my uncle, rubbing his hands together
You always were good lad; very ~
Nevertheless, was greatly annoyed
One afternoon, not many days after
the preceding conversation, l strolled
across the bridge over the Gave, intend.
ing to walk off fit of illhumor Incl
dent on meeting three fashionable
young ladies in the Place Gramont
A little by-path, seeming to invite in
vestigation, enticed me, and, taking it,
found it led throgh a thick planta
ton, which afforded grateful relief
after the dust and glare of the higl
road.
Presently, emerging from the wood
the ripple of running water attracted
my attention. Following the sound,
arrived at group of beech trees, and
forcing my way through the under
wood, saw natural basin where thu
stream had collected into a clear pool {
few feet deep.
Throwing myself down, | reclineC
upon couch OF fallen leaves, conceal
ed by the underground, which still per
mtted me to enjoy the peaceful beau
iy of the scene. My happiress wa
complete but not lasting, for at tina
moment a sweet voice broke the still
ness.
Merily, mcrily shall live now,
| Under the blossom that hangs on the boug
"The nymph of the stream" | mur
INJURED. "Here she comes!"
Crsh, crackle, swish! The bramble
on the other side were parted, and
young girl stood upon the bank. Sh
seemed about II, but well formed 70
her age. Her feet were concealed b.
sabots, and she wore short cloak, lik
that of Fren;h officer, over her dress
An old hat, which had slipped bac
during the struggle with the thornf
framed quaint little face more quaiE,
ly still,
Flinging an armtul Of ferns on tn
ground she seated herself on the brin
of the fountain, tapping the surface c
the water with the point of her sabo
She was strangely beautiful, but tn
great, soft, brown eyes, fixed dreamil
on the surface of the pool, would hay
redeemed the most irregular feature
from the charge of ugliness.
81 will!' she suddenly cried. "Thel
is no one here to see aud no one any
where to care"
| | watched her in amused perplexit,
The girl pleased me, and the will
graceful freedom of each motion Col
lrasted agreeably with the studied el
gance of polite society.
"What a goose | am she soliloqui
ed, pausing in the act of throwing @
her little sabots, as slight change
my position rustled the leaves of whiC
my couch was composed. Every lie
that stirs must be construed by II
guilty conscience into some one lookir
at me, A pretty sight they would sc
too. The idea is laughable.
She took off her hat and let loose
! mass of dark curly hair, which float