The record-union., 1895-02-23

ioito"' auu Wish you In advance
Merry Christmas"
Same to you, sab; same to you, and a
good many of 'em! od-night, sah.''
Alone In the room, Mr.. Valentine filled
the eight little glasses with the old Ma
deira. He then took seven cards from
his pocket. On every card was lady's
name, which he touched reyerentIy with
mis- lips before laying beside its proper
plate. Then, with a th0ughtfuiness and
care that indicated familiarity with the
preferences Of his guests, he transposed
all the punches of flowers. The last one
10 be transposed was composed entirely
OF old-tashioned pinks. AS he placed it
on the table a sudden idea seemed TO
strike him, and, taking one of these pinks
from the bunch, he went back into his
cham Der to the chimney-piece, and stood
before the miniature OF young girl
about Is. in white dress OF a fashion
long gone 10y. The brown hair. parted III
the middle and drawn down in straight
lines across the forehead, covered the ears
with prlm severity, in striking contrast
to the plump lips and laughing eyes. At
her breast was little bunch OF the same
old-fashloned pinks. For Mr.. Valentine
there were evidently sad associations
with this cheerful face, for his eyes were
moist as he inserted his one little flower
in the carving OF the frame. Returning
TO the dInlng-room, he stopped a moment
on the threshold, looking with boyish
pleasure upon the dainty supper table
and the blazing fire. He then stepped to
to his own armchair at The head OF the
table, bowed his head in salutatlon to the
absent guests and took his seat
The red spots were again in his cheeks.
The flush OF youth came and went more
titfully than before as he looked along the
vacant places and allowed his fancy to
fill the seats with those who at different
nnhe hoo don. n
he seemed again in the presence of the
seven beings whose hearts had once been
his. And they were not idle fiirtations
he looked back upon, but serious pas
sions; Tor Mr.. Valentine, although i'm
questionable, was a steadfast man, and
these seven loves of his life had been
honest and loyal. Moreover, there had
w hen his heart went out to q new love it
still held firmly to the earlier idols and
never weakened in its devotion. These
memories gave him an exquisite pleas
ure, and for twenty years lie had taken
every care TO keep them alive aud fresh.
They were the sanctities OF heart that
could never grow old. And now, as he
sat with the empty chairs about him, he
was drifting back into the years OF his
victorious youth. He seemed again in
the presence OF those whose memories
were more precious than life. There, on
the right, with the quaint little curls each
side OF her face, ia the one for whom he
fought that laughable duel and got bull
let in his ribs then lost her through hot
little quarrel, for which he has cursed
himself of and on for more than halt
century. But the kind eyes smile pleas
antly at him now And beside her is the
dear, familiar maiden on the bobtail
horse. she who wrote the letters in his
secretary drawer. The blood flows
fhrpnnh oh
sends loving greeting. He laughs to
see the same old toss OF the head be knows
SO we'll.
But that foreign tempestuous beauty
with the pearls in her black hair, and the
heavy eyelids-why is she here among
these Americans? Has she also a corner
in the old besu's heart? OF that there is
little doubt. AS her gaze meets his he
leans forward with an eager smile, and
his eyes drop 10 necklace, where he
sees, with thrill of pleasure, jeweled
locket upon her throat. He knows well
what lies within.
And la diva? She, too, is here! What
different life her face recalls A life of
music, flowers, applause. 1t recalls stolen
interviews i'll those delicious days before
she was famous and before she was given
to that Short little brute with the very
long title. 1t also recalls that night he
sat waiting for her behind one of the flies
in the opera at Genoa when she, coming
oil the stage in her regal robes, took his
head in both her hands and kissed him
All the JOY and tragedy of fifty years
seemed crowded in single moment. He
leans back in his chair, his handsome
face radiant with unSpeakable happiness.
But the strain is almost too great and he
raises trembling hand to his heart as il
to keep 1t in place.
He suddenly leans forward. however,
Will a bright vyalrnna in
other place is occupied. This time by
little igure-a girl OF ten or Whereabouts
who lifts the flowers from beside her
plate and smiles timidly over them. His
thoughts fly back into a tar-away past
when he and his maid were all the world
TO one another. 1t was his nrst passion,
his boyish love. Does she remeinbe the
day he dragged her up the hill upon his
sled, and when at the very top he slipped
and, falling In her lap, they sped like
lightning down to the bottom, and were
shot head foremost into a snow bank?
oh, yes; she remem bers it well and mods
her head. There is a tear upon his cheek
as he thinks of the check er- berries he
laid upon young girls grave and the
cornelian ring he wore until il fell apart.
Another radiant creature ills an empty
chair and gally returns his welcome. She
losses him rose, this girl of the boat
and the island, of the moon and the mu-
sic, and shakes her fan at him, the very
fan that is locked up in his bureau
drawer!
They are all here now except oue-and
even she is here!-the original of the
miniature, the girl with the old -iashioued
piuks. The same smile, the same eyes,
and they tell him tonight, as they have
many times before, OF heart that knows
no wayering. He draws hand across
his brow as if the pain and pleasure were
too keen for nerves and tissues of 20
years. Slowly rising TO his feet, he lifts
the little glass OF Madeira from the table,
then looks around with a loving glance
that meets from every face a loving
answer. lie tries to speak, and mis- lips
refuse to say the toast he would utter.
But they all understand. They respond
with a graceful gesture. each with her
own little glass, as he puts the wine to
his lips.
At that moment the old-time piece in
the corner, with its chimes and bells, be-
gins 10 sound the hour OF T. and as he
smiles upon the radiant forms about him
the wine rushes hoily through his veins
and surges to his brain with a tumultu-
Gus beating, keeping time with the ring
ing clock. Then he'sound grows fainter
and fainter as if dying away, and sesms,
with a drowsy rhythm, 10 take him gently
with il,
When Glenn entered the next morning
two narrow bars of sunshine had crept
between the curtains, family lighting the
silent room. The candles had burnt out
in their sockets, and his master, mis- chin
upon his breast, had sunk back into his
final sleep. The little wine glasses were
partially emptied and the punches OF
flowers were gone.-J. a. Mitchell, in
Life.
PROF. ERASTUS q. SMITH OF Beloit
College pronounces DR.. Prices Baking
Powder absolutely pure.