The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1894-02-04

tales OF the road, OF Gypsy adventure, and
In believing olden Gypsy ballads like.
jaw Ihe orom take the road Gypsy friend;
May good hours with thee attend
On the moor among the heather,
In the hedge, a snug together
In the tents wi a a-tether
Come each day but sunny weather,
On the drom-
or
The night ha' come. the stars are out,
ne camp-n Res twinkle in tn hedge;
But sure as I'm Gypsy lout.
II hobbies sneak this camp about,
The stones viii rattle from the ledge,
An heads viii break, my word pledge
Ny word 1 pledge, my word pledge
| or again that roaring Gypsy tinker's song
Iwork in brass and decker, too,
With canny yak (eye) and busy vastic
"Chor, Choir" Cthief) they cry. and strike
But when the rat might murks DER the
| blue.
I'll have a cannie Chen), maybe two,
For hat dozen hungry chauvies Chill
An then the tent an my own rannie
| (wife)l-
while belated Dutch farmers dro wsily re-
turning to the outlaying farms, sta rtled
at the unseemingly clamor and recalling
]
Wissahickon glen, would lash their
stocky horses into ambling speed until
their upland homes were safely gained
AS the winter closed in upon the city
and region roundabout Bahia Sy'ra's
quest began to wane from her darkening
mind and lessening powers. Days would
| elapse without Baba and Boze being seen
at the market; and even when they came,
the women noticed that old Syria seldom
! spoke. Then they would settle her down
In corner where the biting wind could
not reach her; gather sacks and horse-rugs
about her. sell the trifes which she
| brought; and as the hustle of the day was
done, press the little money they had
| gained into her withered hand and start
her homeward with sharp orders to Boze
to mind his mistress closely; the while
| purring pleadings to the wrecked old life
| to bide at home until the summer came
and with it. they would kindly whisper in
her eager ear, Griselda and the flowers.
One bitter November evening found the
two old pilgrims, while on their home
| ward way from the market, standing gaz-
| ing into the window of basement cot
tage, whose little brass door-plate bore
the legend, "City Missionary" alongside
| a tumble-down, desolate mission chapel in
the oldest quarter of the city. A COM
forta ble-looking man sat inside of the cot
tage window munching an apple and con-
| tentedly humming psalm. Accustomed
| as he was to contact with every pitiable
form and expression of forlorn human
life, the intensity of the old woman's gaze
| disturbed him. He stepped to the door
and asked her kindly enough, but in that
| perfunctory way long association with
the lowly often gives.
| "Well, mother, what's wanting 2"
81 jess wants Griselda"
The missionary put his headoutside the
\ II r
| with querulOuS tired voice; perhaps the
voice of wife who longed more for a
| peaceful home on earth than the promise
| of palm-shaded palaces beyond the hori-
| ION of human needs.
'Never but one Griselda known about
| here" he at last answered. Better run
home, mother. Shouldn't be out Bad
night coming on, sure. Our Griselda was
on the books long time ago. Died nigh
twenty years since. Lovely death
| Leaned on the strong Arm to the last.
Hope you lean on the strong Arm, too,
mother But cur Griselda was white -
he concluded shiVeringly, getting inside
| the door, and glancing at the wrinkled,
tawny face above him. Couldn't been
yours. Run along home, now; there's a
| good woman. Good night
| He could not have seen the lettering
| human clutch at the area railing for sup
| pOEb, hut nave n6dEu bll6 QOS ulScOQSO-
| late whine or he would not have so soon
resumed his apple and his psalm; but the
| lights that were beginning to twinkle in
| rows upon the city streets whirled round
| and round her as she staggered away,
incoming and muttering:
mo, no, no!-the one as died wus
white; was Gorgio, Boze Couldn't a.
been our Griselda, Boze; couldn't a been
ours; no, no, nop' ......
| c. oh - ,rLsto D..
| forted as best he could, as they trudged
and tottered out past the darkening places
of trade; out past the Frightening regions
| of home; out along the wide, white
| countyward road, now whittier still for the
gently falling snow.
They could almost see the light Ephe
always Placed in their window against
their coming when they had reached the
great cemetery along the Schuylkill on
the city side of the Wissahickon Its
iron gates had been heedlessly left aiar.
| Clutching one with either skinny hand
Baba Syria peered within. Her gypsy
nature, ever abhorrent of the place of
| graves, must surely have met with some
| marvellous transformation now. Boze
tugged at her gown and whined piteously
for her to come away; but Baba syria
only leaned forward and forward gazing
! into the white, hushed forest of head
stones unheedingly. Wondrous the life
mystery that ever calls US to our own
| Wondrous and inscrutable that higher
mystery which in an instant makes clear
and true and shining as the sun the open
portals to the Light ineffable Wondrous
still the calm, the rest, the gentle nature
call which lured this broken life from the
highway among the white and peaceful
| gravel
! For suddenly with cry of unuttera BILE
delight Bahia Sy'ra's quest took heart
again. Springing within the enclosure at
bound, her skirts dragging after her the
faithful dog, the old woman closed the
! gates as if with the joyous strength of
! youth; and as the claug of the iron shut
behind the brave old Gypsy mother-heart
! the dolor of her life, she turned with the
face of radiant pilgrim come again to old
home scenes, to fields of green and to bah
bling streams, and wandered on and on
beneath the falling snow.
Wild was the early winter night around
| the Wissahickon glen. The light that
! Ephe had set in the little cottage window
! burned bravely until morn. When they
| found old Baba syria, her quest was
ended. She lay with peaceful face upon
! a little mound of earth in the great ceme-
! terry beside the broad Schuylkill, half
4 shrouded with the driven snow; and Boze,
stark and cold beside her, had one loving
! paw across her shriVeled neck as if to