The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1895-02-16
MOONLIGHT TRYST.

The garden wall, illuminated by the
moon, is white amid the dark green shrub
berry, the night air with a SAVIOR of damp
ness stirs the clusters of white flowers,
and the shower Of star shaped blossoms
falls silently like perfumed snow.
A curly dark head peeps over the top OF
the ladder, and voice that wishes to be
firm betFays a slight tremor, hesitating
between the syllables:
Ma ria''
81 am here. But, for heavens sake.
speak low. There is still a light in papa's
room. Oh, dear me- I'm so frightened I
haven't any blood in my veinsl''
Come farther this way. Don't be
afraid Come under the shadow OF the
branches; so-no, farther this wayI"
She advanced with little, uncertain,
short steps, Her slender white figure,
still almost that of child, flies along the
! gravel of the path. She crouches trem-
bling at the foot of the low wall, among
the branches of dropping ivy, and looks
up toward the laughing eyes which shine
| through the leaves.
yourself!'
1.-The ideal My poor little dovei You
are all like that, you womeni I, instead,
difficulties animate mel They spur me on
ward; they elec5rify mel For you would
be capable of much more Maria, do you
care for me!"
Eyes. Speak low. hear creaking."
sit is the wind Do you care for mea
Swear itl''
81 swear It'll Don't joggle the ladder.
Look-oh, the ladder is totteringi'
Il need your love in order to struggle
against ifel A mass of blockheads, OF
scoundrels, of idiotsl But we will triumph
over everything if you will only
WHAT"
''Be strong and faithful Be my muse
and my poetry"
but am. Only, you know, papa Is
so strict, he would like to have me play
dolls yet and he says that you'-
What? Speak, 1 am prepared for ev
erything. What did he sayY am superior
to these TRIES. Tell meI''
''That you are naughty boy; that you
would do better to be at your lessons, and
that if he catches you
Interruption. The wind laughs among
the trees with a soft little murmur of
irony.
Are you weeping, treasurer I will
avenge your tears one by onei''
''Yesl"
The sweet, musical little voice is lost in
a stammer of sobs.
Your father is a barbarian, tyrant
like nina, but no matter. Love is light,
is power; it brushes obstacles, levels diff
culties-in a few years you will be mine. !"
Eyes, but if you do not pass the exam
nation
II shall pass It'll A thing of no ACCOUNT
The teacher has dislike to me-imagine
what beastl Maria, have brought you
something. I have kissed it SO much.
Promise, darling, that you will keep it al
ways, you know, even when it shall be
; withered. Take it. No, your hands-no,
| your apron
5 She holds forth spread, her ample child
ish apron, and he throws down, light as a
, fake, a large velvety pansy, with thick,
soft petals, dotted with gold. which seem
, ! like the ardent eyes of a living person.
She takes it into her trembling little
hands and places it upon her lips with
idolatrous fervor.
, ''Swear to me that you will not be false
, to me- insists the fervid lover of Is years
r of age by the memory of your mother
promise me that you will not be an
others
=, She weeps little more loudly.
"Poor mamma!
eff she sees me from heavenl
''She will not be pleased with mel
s'Indeed I am doing wrongl
s'How dark it isl
t ''And if papa should suspect
: s'And if your
sWhat ideas, Mariai They are SOUND
asleep. At their age one does not know
y
> derstandS They don't remember what i
= means to love like you and me, withou
u fears, without cowardlinesses, with a full
g ness of felicity, with that intoxication" y
o This phrase read in realistic novel
appears unwilling to be recalled with ex
actitude. And perhaps it is on this &C
count that the moon hides behind the ceda
# of Lebanon, fringed with silver, its broad
d " smiling face.
"a ttAIfredo, it is late-let me CO.,
!, ''No not yet-how can you think O
:, anything as commonplace as sleep2 It i
, a delicious night. am wide awake full
y of daring. There is a wtldness in M
p blood which lashes it onward. I feel my
le self capable of great heroic enterprises
:" What is thats'
m His voice, arisen by degrees to the de
}" cided intonations of manhood, is lost il
7 an exclamation of senseless, childish ter
ia TOR.
The ladder creaks, trembles, shake
10 with great push from invisible hands.
l. "AhI You rascal
1--we caught you at lastl
''Idler madcap, good for nOthingl
boy hardly out of the nurseryl
o. 'I'll teach you"
st Thumpl Thumpl
r, The wind rattles the branches with dr.
ID little insulting laughs, while from th
n other side of the wall resounds desperat
a cry-and the great white face of the moo
"a pityingly wells itself in the mists of mig /
~ and mercifully conceals the shame of tn
e. place of paternal punishmentl-Shol
Oh Stories.
- ssNTen Who Love Sport"
!. Men who love sport will reap therefor
no small advantage, for they will gal