Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1893-07-14

ShOne before the world as grea
thinker, discoverer, poet, painter, o.
writer.
And to be sure Mr.. Eyre had dis
couraged the study Of mathematics ir
his daughter, ridiculing the idea Of
Locke that mathematics made people
not so much mathemancians as reason
able creatures, and according to hi
intellectual lights (Which burned bright
ly) had made her what her mother
might have been, had that mother pos
sessed the daughters brain.
For the strong man had found hun
dred wants, unsupported in his wife
supplemented in his daughter, since
that tougher fiber of himself despite
the outward contrast Of their looks
had waxed stronger as the years grew
so that on intellectual grounds they
met as happily as on common ones
and the acute yigor, the keen vision Of
childhood, often shed a new light or
the page which Mr.. Eyre expounded
But strength Of character did moi
hinder Mr.. Eyre's daughter from run
ming when she got within sight of the
gate, and saw the stranger leaning
across it fainting again, no doubt, and
all through his own Obstinacy.
Lightly as they fell, he heard the
girls fleet steps approach him, but did
not turn till a gentle hand touched his
arm, and an anxious voice said:
Are you Ill.,
Might Il man have tears in his eyes
yet neither took, nor be, unmanly?
Perhaps Madcap got an insight into the
real beauty Of grief when nobly and
unshrinkingly borne; perhaps she got
Il glimpse of the mingled force and I'M
seltishness Of this mans character as
he turned toward her, and she learned
his heart then, at once and forever.
NO, | am not ILL" he said; but how
long you have been-an hour, L should
think. was afraid you had gone
home through the village
20. no." she said gently. II always
go and return by way of the cowslip
gate
DO you call it that? / shall always
think OF it by that name now; and no
one is allowed to use it but you?'
1.-The boys do sometimes she said
absently; but no one else. The vii
layers are afraid Of the woods, for they
get lost in them, and only a pair Of
swcetheartS wander in now and then
by chance"
And no strangers ever treSpaSS
here"' he said, talking for the mere
sake of prolonging those precious mo-
ments that would 50 soon be over.
You are the first stranger who has
come to Lowell for many years." she
said, looking at him wistfully; Martha
knew you for one directly-she has
lived in the parish forty years and
knows the face of every man, woman,
and child in it by heart"
Yet | have been in Lovel more than
once within the last forty years." he
said, absently, and as one whom Il
thought had just struck that he must
puzzle out later.
But the most curious thing of all is"
went on the girl, that Job should have
mistaken you for Frank; for l know
now that he did. it is written on
his face-and L bless you for the kind
thought of him that brought you to him
just in time, and made him die 50 hap
py."
Yes, he mistOOk me- said the
stranger; ''and do you bless me, Mad
app" he said, gently, and with such
yearning tenderness as moved her heart
to pity for him; then, if SO, and since
,nce your mother blessed me, too, l can
never be truly wretched. And keep
your old beautiful belief in Frank; per-
laps he deserved it, and your mother
Owed him, and your father loved him,
too, once; and it is something to be
shrined SO beautifully in young girls
heart"
Now you are speaking like yourself"
she said, joyousIy; for at the core Of
her heart she was human, and loved all
things, hating to find speck or stain in
any; like Lancelot, who was proud,
you may be sure, of his brother
knights"
And Frank is Lancelot?" he said.
No; you are Lancelot," she said,
looking ut him with those clear boys
eyes that sometimes shine out of 4
young girls face. Il shall always think
of you by that name"
so you will think of me sometimes,
child?" he said, gleam OF sunshine
crossing his sad face. You will spare
Il thought or two from your hero to
give to me-
Yes" she said earnestly; land, some
how, you have brought him nearer to
mel know now how soldiers look and
speak; | have got a better, more sober
idea about him now. He will always
seem to me the heart of a lost angel
in the earth; but l think that to be a
hero one need not be young and beauti-
full. and perhaps find more about me
in my daily life. And l have so often
thought" she went on, coloring a little
as one who fears to preach, how much
human beings around us than to dress
UP some scarcely seen, unknown Great
ure in heroic glliSe, and, placing it in a
niche. fall down and worship it? We
cry out in wonder at the blindness of
the men and women of old who stoned
their saints and heroes, knowing them
not, and every day are noble deeds
done, noble lives drop or are slain in
the struggle, and we bury them as COM
mon clay, carve no head stone above
them. and the nobleSt heroes. the
PrlreSt Saints are those who in their
lifetime toiled unnoticed, unrecognized
among their very nearest and dearest
perhaps family pitied by them, as well