St. Landry clarion. (Opelousas, La.) 1890-1921, 1893-04-29

complexion SO Iaif. aliI tnen InaL QlalH
white, low necked dress, and that jockey
hat and blue ribbons; and she was SC
queeniy, so majestic-she was just my
ideal. shd then when she saw me she
blushed SO prettily, and ceasing her low
warbling turned away into the grove
beyond so proudly, SO defiantly, that
dropped my book in the water in my
eager gaze after her.
The following evening found me on
the same spot, but my coat was brushed,
my boots polished, my Sair oiled, my
beard close shaven, for was no smooth
faced boy, and altogether doubt
whether one of my own scholars would
have known me. / had been reading
quite diligently, as ], thought, for hall
hour, when, suddenly possessed of a RAJ
tional thought, | gave a rational glance
at my book and found it upside down.
But / discovered could comprehend
and appreciate the pageso as well as any
way, for my mind was not there; it was
off yonder among the trees and pretty
decidedly intoxicated.
As often in storm at sea there sud-
denly comes still, dead calm for mo-
ment, and then the wind and waves
contended again, SO frequently a calm
thought displaces the contention of the
mind and then is gone. For moment
looked upon myself with rational,
mortal eye and had not an ever benef-
cent Providence made it a physical i'm
possibility, | should have been sorely
tempted to kick myself. had ever con-
sidered myself. and been SO considered
by others, pious hater of that wildcat
nature which induces young ladies to
marry their fathers coachman, and
young men to shoot themselves, or i'm
merse their precious bodies deep in some
unfathomable abyss.
And now that | should change my
nature for this unnamable nature flashed
upon me as so strangely maniacal or
idiotic that shut my book little Sc
verely and hastily turned away. But
had not taken three steps when by some
mysterious fatality | saw that same
white dress, jockey cap and blue rib
bons stealing along this side the stream.
Strangei "Whom the gods wish to de-
stroy they first make mad It is ven
cradle saying and must be true, for no
sooner did my eyes reach that white
dress and blue ribbon than my legs bore
me back to the rock, and began to
read most labe1iously
To record how minutely each days
progress in the road (oh, rosy roadD of
love, to repeat our wild conversations, to
speak of the strange, new life | felt
within me, how she fed the fire of my
ambition, how stood for hours like a
Iovesick Egyptian mummy and gazed and
gazed at her tall, queenly fgure-to re-
cord all this, say, would but cause on
your part contemptuous smile at IN
old mans weakness, and on mine a
twinge of a too retentiye memory. Let
it suffice, then, to know that before a
week was gone we spoke; before a month
we loved and were plighted, and now
after three months, each passing day
giving increase to our love, came the
evening when we must part.
| suppose all loves, especially printed
ones, must endure partings, and any one
possessed of sufficient patience to read
thousandth part of the love stories
written, will find parting an essential
ingredient in each. 1t would be there
fore thrice told tale, and to you, per-
haps stoical or platonic, a nausea, We're
| to record minutely the event so well
remember. Besides, the memory Of it is
to me a sacred memory. But we were
not boy and girl; our attachment was
not fitful outbreak of passion, the fruit
of love for romance-no, it was a
strong, deep river running from heart to
heart, whose current never rolled and
dashed headlong over precipices to sink
again into a sluggish, muddy stream. It
ever flowed in that steady, unwavering
course, disturbed by no fears or jealous
les, and overshadowed by no clouds Of
doubt and suspicion.
And at the parting interview, as |
gazed upon her seated on that old rock,
her hands lying listlessly in her lap, her
eyes fixed on the ground, and ever and
anon a single truant teardrop stealing
down her cheek; as, standing by her side
and looking down upon her, | could
hardly believe that she was really NOR
tai, and more than all, that she was
mine, all mine. Then, as il at that mo.
ment a dark angel had swept by us,
started at my temerity. For a second
the beauty, the wealth, the bliss of love
fed away, and / was startled to see my
self-me, a starving, threadbare stu
dent, vagabond; no home, no family,
no friends-I was alarmed to see such a
being stand by the proud, wealthy Lima
Spencer, and claim her as his bride.
But then the cloud passed, my thread
bare coat, my well worn shoes, my unpre-
possessing, not to say uncouth appear
ance, all were forgotten, and | was
pressing this child of rank and wealth
to my poverty begotten bosom.
How all this came about, how ia city
BELLE" already arrived at womanhood,
whose life had been passed in gay saloons
and fashionable watering places; who
had been the pet of an indulgent father
and a silly mother till she had grown
almost naughty; how this person, the
courted, the admired, the envied Lima
Spencer, came to forget or conquer her
pride, to descend from her exalted posi-
tion to give her heart, nay, her hand to
me, never questioned, nor shall | now
attempt to find a cause Enough for me
that it was so. And how could doubt
her sincerity? At the bare intimation of
forgetfulness or change of mind, when
surrounded by fiatterers in her fathers
brilliant parlors, she stretched upward
her tall form. and her eyes flashed al
most fiarceiy: