Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-06-17

to see yourself?"
 "Yes, if may" she said, half glad, halt shy still. and drawing near with 0 hesitation | that seemed to him enchanting l He turned the picture toward her, and he. eyes fell on her own face as it looked back from the white colorless depths of the card board. She started and a faint cry escaped her. That she was so lovely as this she had not imagined.
 "Am like that7"
 Indeed, yes. he answered. "Did you not know it2'
 She covered her face with her hands, and turned away with a low glad laugh of triumph, wonder and delight.
 Then shadow fell across her face. She turned and looked at him. "And an buried here l" she said dscontentedly. | Ut is a hard fate for one of your sex and beauty" he answered. "The world yonder would throne you higher than your towns folk do if 1t had the chance"
 "If it had the chance" she murmured bro- kenly. "Oh, if only it hadr'
 He looked at her curiously. You have not much heart, fair as you are," he thought. ''and already you have taken the first step in the downward path-discontent." Aloud he said: That rests with yourself. surely"
 She looked at him in amazement. 'Wth myselfl How?"
 "A woman so young and lovely as yourself need never be at loss to make the world hear of her."
 "But am so poor and ignorant. have not friend. just live on here from day to day, from week to week; it is just as I said | to Genna, always the same-a life like the oxen and the mules lead-plodding, weari- , some, and with d sameness that sickens me-"
 He laughed with evident anu sement. ''Im- patient bird, to long to quit your nest of safety and shelter! Ah, it is always with the young.'
 "You roam-is the world very beautiful2" she asked.
 l "Very. But am not woman." 1 "Why cannot we and enjoy it too7" | "Why? Oh, because to the young and fair of your sex the world is like widespread net that traps the helpless birds, and, once having captured, holds them forever"
 The girl looked away from him over to the sun-crowned hils were the golden light still softly fingered. Her mind was restless and | III at case, and full of impatient desires | What could this world" be like? she won- derad. The more she thought of it, the greater grew her longing to behold-the l longing for wider spheres, for forbidden delights that Is inborn in women so often, and as often terminates in their eternal misery and suffering.
 "I do not believe it," she said, at last, an- swering his words. A trap-wel I would | escape, or break its meshes."
 He laughed aloud. "It might baffle your strength. pretty ore. But tell me, why ars, you so set upon wandering hence7
 "I am tired of life here, that is all." ] ''Tired?" We'll, it is not to be wondered at. It must be monotonous enough. But take my advice-wait till your wings arr, full grown before you test their strength. other wise your flight will be but short"
 ''What do you mean2' she asked impa- t1ently. "When fly I will soar high, like the hawk. will not be content to rise and then fall.'
 He looked at her musingly. "You will not want much assistance" he said. "You will soon forget the nest that has sheltered, the hand that has fed you. We'll, it is the way of youth hand-womanhoodP
 She flushed angrily. "I am not ungrate- full" she said, ''but can one help being tired?'
 Certainly one cannot" he assented read lily. "Are you tired of your home here2"
 ''denu6 IS very 8OOO, Cuo SlFl SalO I6luC- tantly,, ''but then"
 "What thenY he asked, with curious interest in drawing out this character, and the selfshness and impatience that might SC easily be its bane.
 "Oh, nothing-only she Is dull and patient and-ugly. It is easy for her."
 Certainly the virtues seem easier of at. tainment whom a woman Is i'll favored" he laughed, with ready amusement. And i: Genna your sister of whom Teresina spoke?' "Yes."
 "But she loves you very dearly?'
 "Yes, but 1t is selfish to wish to keep m' buried here. I did but speak of Florence yesterday, of how I should like to see it, ane she was as shocked and frightened as if had said something wicked"
 "What would you do in Florence?" h. asked curiously. ''See it. of course. See its beautiful streets and the theaters and churches, and all tn lovely things 1t holds, and how the grea . ladies are dressed, and the palaces wher the nobles live. Oh, 1t would be beautiful9 ? "It would but make you more discontente, with your life afterward. Perhaps Genna right"
 
 . would think it was wrong to wish to leav , one's home, even for little while." , The lovely, pouting. wistful face looked Il at him so reproachfully that he forgot n prudence.
 Pretty one. 1t is not of wrong or right , think-it Is only of your safety. Have me no eyes, think you, for such beauty as yo possess? It might bribe a kingP' l Lo6 oth 1uif :. "There are dreams which end in peace an :, happiness" he went on rapidly, ''and thel
 are dreams which see greatness and wonde ? and the dazzling scepter of power, and CT in misery and sin and shame. The h dreams are yours." . She looked frightened. "Why?" she aske :. timidly.
 Because you are of the humble of tl earth because your lotas cast in loneline 6 and obscurity. and you pine for freedo1
 riches, and power. Can you deny it2"