Pawtucket tribune. (Pawtucket, R.I.) 1890-189?, 1893-07-21

.-, x~crscs-~. ~ ~ VIII m an . INV oAyH
Say you are little glad to see me.
(The sight OF him so near, after my
weeks of loneliness, gave me feeling 50
sudden, 80 sweet and so vivid that IL seem
ed to smite me first ON the eyes and then In
the heart And at the first note of his con-
vincing voice Doubt picked up her trailing
skirts and fed forever)
I-Yes, II you must know It, am glad
to see you. So gladstndeed that nothing
In the world seems to matter 80 long rs
you are here.
He (striding a little nearer and looking
about involuntarily for a ladder)-Penel-
ope, do you know the penalty Of saying
such sweet things to mef
I-Perhaps 1t is because know the PEN
atty that I'm committing the offense Be-
sides feel safe In saying anything In this
second story window.
He-Not unless you wish to see me trans
formed into a nineteenth century Romeo
to the detriment Of Mrs. Bobby's vines.
can look at you forever, dear, In your pink
gown and your purple frame, unless can
do better. Won't you come DOWN.
IL like 1t very much up here.
He-You would like II very much down
here after little. So you didn't paint me
out" after alli
I-No. on the contrary I painted you into
every twig and flower, every bill and
meadow, every sunrise and every sunset.
He-You must come down. The distance
between Belvern and AK when ! was not
sure that you loved me was nothing COM
pared TO having you in second story win
dow when know that you do.
I-Suppose we compromise. My sitting
L. a.. IL 4
in and look at my sketches until Gomez
oh, Mrs Bobby, this gentleman Is an
American friend Of mine Mr.. Beresford,
this is Mrs Bobby, the kindest landlady in
England. The reason Mr.. Beresford was
so thirsty, Mrs. Bobby, was that he had
walked here from Great Belvern, 80 we
turns.
Mrs. B.-Certainly, miss. he shall have
the best In the 'ouse.
He-Don't let mo interfere with your
usual arrangements. / don't seem to be
hungry for food. Ishall do very well until
get back to the hotel.
I-Indeed you will not, SIR. Billy will
pull some tomatoes and lettuce. Tommy
will milk the COW, and Mrs. Bobby will
make a savory omelet that Delmonico
might envy. Harkl Is that our fowl Gao
klingi 1t is-at half past 81 She heard
me mention omelet, and she must be call
ing, Now lay me down to sleep"
There are no more experiences TO relate at
present. We are making history very fast,
Willie Beresford and 1, but 1t is sacred his
tory, and much of 1t 1 cannot chronicle fol
any ones amusement.
Mrs. Beresford Is here, or at least she IL
in Great Belvern, few miles distant.
am not painting these latter days. have
turned the artist side Of my nature to the
wall just for little, and the woman Ia
having full play. do not know what the
world will think about 10, II 1t stops to
think at all, but feel as II were right
side out" for the first time In my life, and
when i take up my brushes again shall
have new world within from which to
paint-yes, and a new world without.
Goodby, dear Belvern Autumn and
winter may come into my life, but when !
think of you 1t will always be summer In
my heart shall hear the tinkle Of the
belled sheep on the hillside; inhale the fra
GRANGE of the purple clematis that climbed
In at my cottage window; remember the
day when Love and first walked together,
hand in hand. Dear days of utter idleness;
of early condolences; of dreaming dreams
and seeing visions; of long morning walks
over the hills; OF bread and cheese and
kisses" at noon, with kind Mrs. Bobby how
ering like u plump guardian angel over the
simple feast; afternoon tea under the
friendly shade of the yew tree and parting
at the wicket gate when it seems, after six
or seven hours together, rs If we could not
say goodby. can see him pass the clock
tower, the little green grocer shop, the old
stocks, the green pump; then he is at the
turn of the road where the stone wall and
the hawthorn hedge will presently hide
him from view. / fly up to my window,
push back the vines, catch his last wave Of
the hand / would call him back il
dared, but it would be no easier to let him
go the second time, and there is always to-
morrow. Thank God for tomorrow. And
II there should be no tomorrow Then
thank God for today. have lived and
loved.-Kate Douglass Wiggin in Atlantic