The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1892-08-31

some anu III JOlneu III Jue WOTuS,
the deep bass of the men supporting and
strengthening the treble of the grizettes,
the leader of the band pointing the measure
gayly, and lending his aid to direct and
harmonic this choral and instrumental
concert.
Paule, leaning back in her chair, de-
lighted with everything, had tight,
harsh little cough that from time to time
was smothered in her handkerchief, but
the surrounding joy was insensibly infec-
tious; Paule's face soon was radiant with
n smile that made her for an instant bean
tiful with youth and health Then her
friend was back again, bunch of blue
bells in his hand.
"You have theml' cried she, "you have
the bluebellsr'
Her friend did not answer, but held
them to her. She seized them as a child
seizes an offered plaything, with brusque
gesture, inspired apparently at once by
pleasure and fear-the pleasure of having
the fear of losing.
But how had her friend secured the blue
bells? One must truly love much to be
capable of devotion that borders on the
ridiculous. Two words had told the story
of the happy girl with the flowers.
He wanted them, he said his voice trem-
bling with dread of a refusal for poor
sick child. A mad caprice, he knew it
WELL but no one was selling them, he
could not buy them, and disappointment
would sadden the last hours of dying
one. Then ompassionately, before her
dumb struck escort could bow or say
Eyes" the girl had pulled them from her
breast and thrust the bluebells into his
hand.
you have themp' repeated Paule, and
without asking how he had obtained
them, she took them tenderly in her hot
clasp, carried them to her lips and pinned
them to her corsage, smiling, content and
proud
Her friend regarded her sadly with
swimming eyes, his gaze vague and alb
sent. Beyond the present, so near he saw
the morrow. 1t was cruel-terrible.
All, but life was shortl And men but
fools to live as if it were longl And for
such trifles, too, did vitality expend itself,
wiseacres and artists use up their wits,
lawyers SOW ruin, and politics and war do
the restl That poor little bloodless body, so
pretty, so frail, nearly transparent, that a
cold breeze would wlther tomorrow like a
leaf without sap-was it not the image of
life, so brief and fleetingP
Dear little Paule She would last, like
the bluebells she loved, just long enough
to charm-and to be gathered
Meanwhile all about them the music,
noise and laughter went on.
Evening now had fallen, and everywhere
they were setting the tables among the
trees and the shrubbery and along the
banks, brilliant with Venetian lanterns;
some of the boatmen were going away,
whole boat trains in fact, but double as
many had come and still were coming.
Paule's friend, seeing the ever deepening
fame in the white little face, led her to
kiosque that overlooked the Seine
Are we going to dine hereY" demanded
she happily.
Eyes, dearest; and if you are too much
tired, as believe, will have the yawl put
| in boathouse and we will also sleep here
| that you may rest"
Paule clasped her hands delightedly; the
idea of sleeping on the isle made her smile
Immediately
"And l shall see the Seine running under
the stars all night long," said she.
"But no; you'll be sleeping"
"IS Oh no. sleep so little"
1t was true, she did not sleep At night
the cough killed her. the fever burned her,
ceaselessly, without respite Even now,
with the sun an hour gone, the little hand
kerchief was raised more and more FIRE.
quenJly to the pale lips.
Just then a servent entered and set down
lamp. Paule spread out her flowers on
the clean white cloth, nonchalantly leaned
her elbows on the table and her chin in
her two hands-such feeble, bloodless little
hands, like bits of snow
"If only" sighed she presently, in her
|
spoken thought, 'if only could dine on
flowers, like the butterfliesl'
Something strange in her tone made her
friend raise wondering eyes; she continued,
never needing;
eyes, on flowcrs-these blue bells here''
her voice broke little, but she went on
bravely "for-for / am going soon, and
know it. But l am very happy, all the the
same, knowing it. And because of it
| knowing it, mean--that | wanted-just
| for the last time to come with you today.
If could eat bluebells like the butterflies
they would spring from my grave, come
up all around me, growing from my body
and-and you could gather them" Oh
the heartbreak in the pitiful little voice.
AS she spoke, slowly, with evident effort
but smiling at her friend to prove to hin
that she was indeed happy, Paule strovt
to raise her head and give her hand to hel
startled lover, who, unwilling to see the
truth, had still not moved
But the support of her hand removed, thu
heavy little head fell helplessly forward OIL
the table and the pale brow lay among thu
scattered bluebells.
"Paulel Paule" cried her friend, spring
ing with sob toward the poor little body
Just at this moment, after brief rest
the orchestra began again waltz by
Strauss, to which whirled couples intoXi
Gated with life, while the rowers, depart
ing in their illuminated crafts, accom-
panied with their strong young voices tn
strains of the horns and violins.
But Paule heard no longer; Paule wa
gone, though the SOUL perhaps, still hov
cred over the fading blueballs that tn
tears of her friend bathed with scaldinI
dew.
And all the Seine. under the moon tina
silvered it, rang with cries and songs iron
the Bineau bridge to the bridge of AS
nieres, and the river rolled its waters witt
murmuring sound that seemed to sa
Come onl come on" and brushed it
banks with sly little kiss that bent til
reeds and the water lilies; while in tn