The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1891-01-09

and Indifferent TO what was doing in the
valley below them. Those who are in rule
there; those who are struggling; thoSe WIZ
suffering and complaining in the chase alleI
happiness; those who are rejoicing anu
love and triumph IN succeSs-tn all THESE
they are Indifferent Contented to live ana
let live. they hardly notice the music OF the
wind as il plays through the branches, or
the harmonious vibrations OF the OreeZes
through the FIR trees. Ihey even ,ghoTe
that the men from the city admire the Al
pine roses, and that elegant ladies adorn
their corsages with bouquets OF edelwelss.
They who live in the valley envy them these
flowers growing under the snow, which
these dreamy shepherds trample under their
feet as the refrain of their songs reverber-
ateS from mountain to mountain through the
clear air.
Happy. happy shepherds! Corroding care
aScendS not to heights. 1t descends into Inc
valleys to grind the human hearts in the
narrow dwellings Of the cities aud villages.
The cemetery, simple grave stone,
mound of earth, fragrant with white Vio-
lets. A man stands there alone lie IS
weeping.
1t seems he must curse this spot OF earth.
Accuse it of having taken from him all that
was most dear in life. And yet he cannot
tear himself away from ii. like mser VINO
hOYers over his buried treasure.
The railway is rebuilt-the work oil the
engineer is finished. But the duty Of the
man is not accomplished.
What shall he do?
Nothing remains now but to leave. But
where TO go? He is undecided. He crum-
pies in his hand letter from bis mother.
She is impatiently waiting for him in the
enchanted island where the trees are always
green and the sky always blue. she mas
announced to him, not uniu,entioEally, per
haps, that one OF the friends OF his child
houd has become widow. Upon MS
writng-deSk at home he has left written
agreement, lacking nothing bnt his sign a.
ture, to 60 the Caucasus. Standing before
the fragr' n mound he interrogates it:
Tel me, what shall | do?"
And he seems To hear a voice rising from
the grave-a voice of silver. perfumed with
violetN, that mumurs in his ear: My lit
tie ones my dear little ones"
And his decision is made. The man will
go TO the Caucasus; he will not construct a
second nest with the remains of the old one :;
he Will work in the solitude of his heart for
his children. He speaks with the dead-he
holds her hand; he swearS never to give his
orphans stepmGthrr. Without the inSinua-
ton of his mother he would, perhaps, have
returned to the lang uid Antilles But no. he
fears persuaSlons-a struggle-maybe de-
feat
He knelt and kissed the spot where his
beloved repn>ed.
'Clarissf," lie murmured for the last time
"Glarsse, l viii be faithful to thee until
death"
vehicle approaches carrying band of
peasants. laughing and shouting; it is Il we'd
ding party, but the happy faces become
serious; the women sign themselves COM
passionately as they behold, near the solitary
grave, this man who is weeping, and behind
him dog with lowered head, seeming TO
share the sorrow of his master. The sad
vision strikes these happy people to the
heart, and reminds them that all joys are
fleeing. A veil of mourning seemed to ex-
tend over the springtime.
Several days more. Then De,hormie goes
away with two children dressed in black.
Behind him he has left his work completed
and his happiness buried Boston Herald.