Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1894-07-26
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BY JOSEPHINE A. BOW EN-.
CHAPTER II.

w Yes, I found myself unable to
go on with my landscape from the mo-
ment that she left. called myself an
idiot and tried to shake myself into
reason and common sense, but it was of
no use That sweet, pathetic little face
haunted me, and l was in a fever of
impatience to see her again.
Well, about moon Of the next day she
came, as before, with her dog by her
side. It was more like a dream than
reality, she was so little like other
girls.
Il am glad that you haye COME I
said, quietly, 'and am gong to ask
you to unbraid your hair and let 1t fall
oyer your shoulders; will you?'
Without reply she united the ribbon,
slowly unbraided and shook loose her
wonderful hair. 1t fell around her like
a shadowy mist, and so etherealized her
that began to, doubt whether she were
a mere human child, or the victim Of
a hallucination.
Ibegan to outline my picture, but
decided, as much as / love a good dog,
to leave hers out and make an after
study Of him to please his little MIS-
tress for l wanted that face, with its
penslve lips and wonderful yell of hair,
to be what it has since become-a noun.
tain dream.
She came day after day, always glid-
ing In and loosening her hair without
further request from me and she glided
as silently into my heart.
In ten days time knew that loyed
her better than my own life; that |
would protect and defend her with my
last drop of blood.
We had talked but little all tins time.
I had asked her if she was missed at
home and she said that her father was
away and that Mannella had some
Mexicans visiting her 'and I think they
are glad to haye me away she said,
but they quarrel terribly ,and although
l can't understand all they say | think
they are taking about me-
Here was danger. What step should
take ? Should l ask this child to fly
with me? Never! Better death for both
of US than dishonor tor her.
The sensorious would never have be.
lieved that would have died to keep
my Dream, as called her in all my
thotght, pure and innocent, until the
time came when she could'lay her sweet
hands in mine and trust to me-
Should 60 to this nest of Mexican
cutthroats and boldly declare myself
her lover, claiming the right to protect
her, and trust to fate? Most likely the
result of such step would be death for
me and worse than death for her. No.
l must take care of myself for her sake
To 90 to her father was impossible
He was fugitive from justice-perhaps
swinging from some impromptu gallows
in gorge or canyon. ! had no friends
in all the great northwest to aid me.
must act alone-but how?
The picture was nearly finished.
You have sen 1t Jim-the sweet pathos
of the face, the mystic eyes, the cloud
of shadowy hair, the form half yelled
in mist, the background faint vision
of the mountains. / was satisfied. 1t
must have been All inspiration; it was
the inspiration of loYe-for to saye my
mortal soul could no more paint such
picture now than l could bring the
dead to life. She looked upon it as a
miracle, and upon me as the followers
of Christ may have looked upon him.
All this time no word Of love had
passed my lips. must see my way
clearly before spoke, and waited and
pondered. Did it never occur to me
that she might be followed and watched?
Yes, l had thought of that, but this
cabin, as you may have observed com
mands view of miles. / had watched
her going and coming after the first
few days.
l could see the little figure far away
as 1t advanced in coming or faded in the
distance when she departed. and always
she seemed unmolested- and with her
faithful guardian by her side l trusted
that she was safe.
That smoke gets into my eyes, Jim.
What do you say? Tears? Well, I am
not ashamed of them. Perhaps you
would not have fallen in loye with an
outlaws daughter, but I did.