Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1892-08-03
THE MOONBGAMS' WEAVIEG.

III WAS press A'bu u'-
The machinery seemed to set every
timber of the huge building vibrating.
lis mighty pulse could be felt as 1T
maiestIcaily beat out its slow, steady
rhythm.
Press night always made itself felt in
the literary department. The throb-
hing of the machinery downstairs by
some strange, subtle analogy caused
the tide of life to throb in answer to
the brain and pens flew more swiftly
then than other nights.
The Editors room was apparently
empty, his chair stood, as if hurrledly
vacated, before the table with its
chaotic mass of papers and MSS.
Everything bad been pushed aside,
aud on the desk lay two MSS. Their
leaves we're fluttering in the breeze
that entered by the long window hasti-
ly thrown open, in whose embrasure
stood a tall, dark figure. 1t was the
Editor.
Usually on press night he was un-
spproachaDle But tonight his
thoughts were too deep even for the
bnsy pen that could catch them as they
ebbed aud flowed, and transform them
into brill ant words that glowed and
burned and found their way to the
heart The editor had found his own
heart
1t may seem strange thing to say
that the editor of a society magazine,
one who is used to toy and trihe with
the heart and its currents of feeling
could have such possession of his
own. 1t was true, nevertheless.
An hour ago Austin Sorel would
have laughed at such n suggestion,
but now, as he stood there watching
the stars, listening to the boundless
tide of humanity eddying past the roar
of the vast, palpitating city and the
pulse of the mighty machinery beneath
him he had awakened to tine fact that
he had u heart That he was not the
machine which he had trained himself
to appear. Not the brilliant intellect
ualist alone, the humorist, satirist into
which he had forced his fine nature,
but that he WAS still an idealist, still
the poet, in whoss youths heart all
that was grand and noble, and beauti-
fuI and true had stirred the fire until
ali! until.
All hearts in which the tide of life
beats high must sooner or later pass
through the fire of disillusionment.
That Is inevitable.
Austin So.el, as he stood there look
ing into the darkness, had grown
youth again. The dream was so complete
that he seemed to be looking on the
transformation without for moment
realizing that it was upon himself he
gazed. He saw the tall. lissome limbs,
the clear cut, dark face, the eyes glow
ing and cleaning, hope-hlled, rs they
looked out on IA world such as poets
IL l. - oh a
broad white brow tossed eagerly, care
lessly back awards.
He was standing, as now, IL the en-
brasure of window, but how differ
entl 1t was long room in an old
castle, and from its quaint mullloned
wind, could be deserted wide stretch
ing land, and on the terrace nodding
summer roses.
A girl was at his side. A tall, slight
maiden with the dainty grace OF high
birth and the clinging robes such ladies
wear She was listening to his talk,
approving every now and then. She
was used to that glow and enthusiasm,
those wild dreams in which intellect
ual ambition played SO high part,
into which sordid craving for wealth
did not enter.
After short pause she turned away
On side table lay parcel unopened
1t caught her eye.
"Oh, Austin" she said, "here Is The
silk for my ball dress. Shall L show
1t to you?"
He stepped towards her and opened
the parcel. With a childish cry o
delight she held up the softly simmer
ing folds that the SUMS rays might
catch them.
"Ohl how lovely, how lovely" she
cried, and then her eyes sparkled Will
pleasure.
Austin Sorels eyes had grow
sombre.
"Grace," be said slowly, ''are yor
sure you can give up all these thing
to be my wife? For a time, dearest
only for time, till L win name ant
fame. Will the remuneration be too
great for you?" As he spoke his ey
swept round the gorgeous room an'
back to the girl where she stood toyIn
with the softly shimmering silk.
Must / really give up all thes
things, Austin?" she asked. Then wit
pout she glanced lovingly in his face
''Why won't you take an easy way 0
earning money-go into business hk
Uncle Ned, then we could be happ
and rich IN no time. Why do yol
make such point of being poetr
The words cut his heart like a knife
Remember, it was the heart of youth
the tender, fine, highly-tensioned heal
of the poet. He made no answer.
"Ohl you will, like dear Austin?
she said. "Uncle Ned will have n
scruples then; he will help you and W
can be married very soon" Sh
looked again at him. He had grow
pale and the voice in which he spok
did not seem his OWE at all. 1t sounde
far away.
81 have been afraid for some time,
he said, "that the sacrifice L ask (
you Is too great. ] cannot give up IN
!lfe's work, business is an impossi bliIt
Tor me. Can you give up your life hel
with your uncle, your jewels, carr
ages, and fine dresses, and be poo
mans wife, or will you keep them an
say goodbye to me2"
lyon would not ask me again whe
you made the name and fame of whic
you speak, if | refused you now?" 81
asked In strange, subdued voice.
mo, he said; Il would not ask yo
then"
You do not love me-" she cried.
But his deep, glowing eyes looked c
her 1alr face until her grey ey
hrooped beneath their fire. What W
mere equivocation on her par
Well did she know his heart was her
Ihe silence grew irksome.
Answer me, Grace" he said gentl
The white fingers still toyed with Il
sllk on which the sunlight rippled, ii
TAR head dropped low.
u am L't brave enough. Austin