The Olneyville tribune. (Providence, R.I.) 1893-189?, 1893-12-23
DESTINY.

again gazing Tue Wlllc upou luS nldk-
niicent upholstery OF the sky and
the gorgeous beauty Of the earth
/ have a romance 10 write, or, as a
brother author would say, ian arti-
Gle" l fancy il will be a true tale i
shall write tonight, for l feel in no
mood for writing romance. One can
not always write romance; indeed,
there are times when one cannot
write al all, as every writer knows TO
his cost Again, there are times
when the thoughts come thick and
fast and the words almost flow from
the pen, when one a take up a
plain sub ect and embroider il over
with beautiful thought and quaint
ideas till one scarcely recognizes the
original theme
My talk with you TO night shall be
OF one l know and love full well. l
have seer her within the last hour,
slit NJ dreamily at her window, so
lost in thought that she did no: see
me as l rode by on my way 70 the
postofhce-my usual evening ride.
You must know that / am in the
country now, the splendid country,
and shall not return TO not, dusty
Gotham for six delicious weeks. But
this is not my story. 1t was a leaf
or two from "A heart and life / va
going 10 unfold-a life in which my
own vas strangely intermingled-a
life whose every phase l knew by
heart; for though she kept the inner
leaves OF her heart folded over its
deepest feelings, i, even i. had M
or twice passed beyond the penetrate
further than which no other human
soul had eve gained an entrance,
neithe would they in the years TO
come.
IL was a balmy evening in June,
the hours creeping on toward the sun
set. Here and there, on the hill-tops,
the sunlight still came altering
through the trees, tlecking tn, velvet
sward with patches OF trembling gold.
In the valleys, the long, cool shadows
crept upward, heralding the dying OF
the day. Forth from their leafy
chambers came a troop OF insects, and
set w their usual e,ening concert.
The cricket that had sang in the
warm jamb all winter. opened the
concert, singing his SONG TO the end
without stopping TO take breath, and
the frogs, filled with envy, Joined In,
con spirIto. Some timid little birds
trilled in a few trembling notes, and
the lazy .ocust sang his song IN long,
drowsy cadences, lulling into yet
de per thought the pale-browed
woman that sat so still and sad by
the window. She, too, vas gazing
upon the same brilliant clouds, drift
ing their purple and crimson and
gold into a most rare mosaic. The
hush Of a summe evening. was
around her and folded flowers aud
sleeping birds. Yet, methinks the
summer beauty was lost upon the
dreamer, for her eyes were cast up
ward. a. though in anguish or prayer.
Two white hands were clasped to-
gether. Surely there was a PRAYER
folded in the small hands, else why
were they clasped SO %nervously one
within the other, while her eyes were
gazing up TO heaven.
- Drawn lclosely 10 the window, as
though for more light, was "A table
thickly strewn with MSS. which be-
tokened her calling, though the pen
lay IDLY beside her, showing that for
this time, at least, her art was power
less 10 satisfy her heart The mo-
tiOnless figure was almost statuesQue
in It's deep repose, making one sad
TO look upon her-the twilight fell
nngf and NnnI ftl It. nrlu nIAN uo
draped earth and sky, and still the
dreamer sat there-the night closet
around her, the grateful sootb ne
night that falls upon all the weary
world, that folds itself over tired
eyes and around the weary-hearted.
The noon o full and clear, render
ing the white face still more white.
The beautiful calm moon. that lights
up sc many nights n our W and
other lands. That brightens into
richer beauty the flowers sleeping
under tropic skies, and gu des the
lover to the feet Of his chosen one.
over many "A love lscene the moon
light fell; over brave men and beauti.
full women: over purple seas, and
vovagers sailing upon these seas: owe
precious argosies a d ships OF war,
and w this beautiful woman. SIT
ting so sad and silent in the little
brown cottage on the heath. The
beautiful form is there, but the spirit
is far away Let US shadow forth "A
few OF the thoughts and memories
that fit before her mental vision-a
fragment here and there, that vii.
tell somewhat OF her heart history.
Her thoughts had flown back years
and gears. Refcre her minds eye
stood a fair child OF twelve SUNNI r,
her white apron dlled with flowers.
which she crushed re~cXlessly against
her breast as she extended one small
hand TO catch a flower ST II NOR
beautiful than the rest. The white
hand rested on the coveted flower,
but In drawing herself back, a stone
underneath her foot rolled, and she
was precipitated into the dark and
sluggish pool beneath. The girl
STRUGGLED in tho water IN rauafn bnr