The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1889-05-16

with hers, and l never have heard
II kuder the Daisies" sound SO beauti-
fully since.
We thought at one time we should
have the wedding at the Fort. Paul
urged it, Ada was passive; but the
| friends at home would not consent
She must come home to them once
more, their own Ada, before they
could yield her to another. But the
| engagement would be short.
Ada told me this, saying, with tears
| in her sweet eyes.
''You know, all of Paurs relatives
died young; his father, before he was
thirty; his uncle, scarce older; and so
1T has been for ages back. And Paul
| is impressed with the idea that so it
must be with him. But l will not lis
ten to it. He is strong and healthy,
and his manner of living is different;
| they were confined over old musty
books and desks. Oh, l wish Paul
had Franks cheerful disposition; be-
cause if he should get sick, know he
would give right up and die; while
Frank would do his best to live. You
must take good care of him. and send
him to me well and hopeful-won't
youP" she asked, adding: I'm going
next week. Paul will take me to st.
Louis, where have friends who are
| going home with me-"
A few days more, and she left US.
When Paul returned from St. Louis
everyone noticed his increased sadness,
| but wondered not
How could he be cheerful when the
light of his life was gomez l tried to
| raise his spirits by speaking of the
short time before he would go to her.
''Only two months, and you will
bring her back to US" l said.
"Only two monthsr'
l never shall forget the depths Of
sadness in his voice as he repeated my
words, and said:
''Ere then | may be resting in a
soldiers grave, or she under the dais-
les"
That evening Frank returned, look
ing more cheerful than when he left.
The same old loving intimacy contin.
| ued between the cousins, much to the
surprise OF those who had predicted .
| change.
Ada's letters, so full of cheering
and hope came with almost every mail.
But they failed to arouse Paul from the
sadness which had taken possession of
him.
One day he was writing to her when
Frank came in. Putting down his pen,
he held the half-written page to Frank,
| saying:
Read what I've written to Ada,
| and then you will know what I've been
trying to say to both for many days."
Frank took the paper, and when he
had read this sentence, Darling, if it
| pleases God that / may not come to
| you, that we may not be united on
earth, let Frank guard over and COM
fort you; let him be all l have hoped
to be. And think of me as waiting
the coming of both so dear in the land
where there is nothing but love; no
doubts; all pure and perfect love-" he
threw aside the paper, and catching
Paul in his arms drew him with wo-
| manlike tenderness down beside him,
and said:
"God bless you for this confidence,
Paul; but you must throw off this
| gloom. This will not be. You are not
feeling well. Arouse yourself. Ask the
| colonel for change. Go to her now.
Start tomorrow. / know he will find
some business that you can attend to-"
Frank tried hard to cheer him, and
| partially won him from his gloom.
In her home Ada was busy in pre-
| paration for Pauls coming, hopeful
and happy, Notwithstanding the sad
ness which pervaded his letters, until
the last one reached her. She was
writing a reply. bidding him throw off
his gloom and hasten to her, when the
hope and heart crushing words were
told, cautiously and gently enough:
Paul was dead"
All, but only one who has felt the
blow can tell the depth of such a
wound.
From Frank came the tidings of his
| illness.
He was smitten by fever of malig-
nant type, attacking his brain and
doing speedy work.
Frank wrote:
II cannot think of him as dead. Only gone
before us. and waiting our coming. Smilingly
he passed away, constantly murmuring your
name and humming Under the Daisies In
few months | shall BRING ms BODY ana lay IL
| where those who loved him can plant the
| dai .es on his grave.
A year, and nearly two, had passed
since, Ada has rallied somewhat from
| the shock, but on her sweet face a
| shadow is left, which does not mar it
| rather adding, / think, new charm
| to its beauty-a shadow that will
never grow less until she has Joined
Paul, where shadows and sorrows cease
| to be.
Again Frank came to her. this time
| urging his cause with Paul's last wish.
"Can heart whose dearest hopes
are buried make you happy, Frank?"
Ada asked in answer to his pleading.
'.Yes-oh yes! | ask no greater hap
| piness on earth. Ada. Come to me!
Love me for Paurs sake. until you
learn to for my own," Frank answer
| ed, clasping the dear hand closer to
his own.
1--WE always loved you, Frank, but
not as Paul. You must not hone for
SUCH" she said mournfully.
And again her lovely face rested
| close to the noble heart-this time in
no mistake.
Ry what seemed to many strange
perversity, Ada insisted upon wearing
| for her bridal wreath DAISIES instead of
orange-fowers. Frank was content.
and why should l regret that lie had
| won and welded one whose heart was
even .hen under the daisies.
| Smokes and Shouts at the Age Of 1 10.