Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1891-08-20
A BROKEN IDEAL.

the outrageous forest. The rain
bad ceased, but from the leaves drops
Of water still dripped with the light
sound OF a trickling fountain. At q
distance the path he was following
opened on a green glade. The trunks
OF the trees were dark, their branches
darker still, and hespreading foliage
OF the chestnuts, meeting above the
head OF the young artist, seemed like
the vault of a cathedral at the hour
when the declining sun sends through
the many-colored windowsa mysteri
GUS light into the obscurity of the
interior.
Maurice loved the hour when the
day dies, when a gray tint falls upon
all objects, confounding their con.
tours, softening their angles and
rounding their outlines. He walked
slowly, each moment discovering in
the forest some beauty he had not
seen before, and filled with that ten
der admiration for nature which is
part of genius.
Having reached the glade, he looked
about him. The grass was green and
fresh; the delicate leaves of the trees
glistened under the drops of rain
which had fallen upon them. He
paused that she might better observe
the scene, which seemed more impress.
sive in the gathering shadows than
in the full light of the sun.
He saw the pretty, slight form of a
girl advancing from a clump ofbeech
trees. She walked with a supplestep
without seeing Maurice, who, as mo.
tlonless as the trunk of the tree near
which he stood, looked at her intent
ly. When a few PAGES from him the
girl saw him. trembled, and let fall
small bundle OF fagots she was carry.
ing on her head.
"lou frightened me-" she said.
smiling, and her large, dark eyes
sparkled gaily under her tangled vel.
low hair.
He looked at her a moment with.
out replying. Complete harmony,
which it is impossible to describe, ex.
listed between this smiling girl, the
foliage of the glade and the tone oil
the landscape.
"Remain where you are" said the
young man, 81 want to sketch you."
She was about to brush back the
locks that had fallen over her fore.
head, but he stopped her with ges.
ture.
"Stand just as you are"
He seated himself on q stone and
rapidly sketched the face and form oil
his young model.
She was peasant, but delicate and
slight, as are these young girls before
they complete development, which is
often late. Her eyes were already
those OF a woman; her smile was still
that Of a child
GLOW old are you?" asked the art
ist, as he worked.
81 shall be sixteen soon."
els it possible! l thought you were
younger"
lam small" she said, with a frank
smile, ''but l shall grow qnickly, and
by Saint Johns Eve l shall have a
lover
"Why on Saint John's Eve??" asked
the young man, pausing in his work
and looking at her.
Because then we shall dance
around the bonfres."
So soon was this pure brow, these
innocent eyes. childish mouth to be
profaned by the caresses of some
stupid rustic! Maurice experienced
vague feeling Of jealousy
"Would you like to have me for
your lover??'' he asked. as he returned |
to his work.
"You? All! you are a gentleman. I |
am peasant. Honest girls do no,
listen to gentlemen"
Such is the code of virtue among
villagers. The young man made no |
reply to her words, but said:
Il can see no longer. Will you re-
turn here tomorrow little earlier?"
For my picture?''
Eyes
II will return. Good evening.
She took up her fagots, and pass
ing under the arching chestnuts, |
soon disappeared in the shades Of |
evening.
Maurice returned home dreaming
OF the girl with the yellow hair. |
Although he had often before seen |
pretty peasants. whom he had re-
garded with an artists eye. he seemed
to look on this girl with the Jealous
eyes OF a lover. That night and the
next day seemed long to him, and |
some time before the appointed
hn1lp 10 in f1o