The Union times. [volume] (Union, S.C.) 1894-1918, 1896-07-31
The Train Cannot Wait"

though little frail, makes ono think
what pretty woman she will be soon.
Her hands and arms are those OF u
child--is she not still child Clara
left school but fortnight ago She
is the beloved and Only daughter OF
rich miller in the ncighboraool of
AvcEnes
Nothing is more poctical than n mill
in the country. 1t does not disturb
the silence CT the air with its mono oto-
nous tic-tac; on the contrary it's noise,
strong and regular, is like all accom-
panimcnt to the many ogher noises Of
the wind, and of tho trees, AMI of the
birds. Clara was charmed with it all.
During II few days after her arrival
the whole house was upset, making
and receiving calls, dinner parties,
dancing parties, lawn tennis the days
were not long enough to hold their
pleasures. Then all w;:s quiet at the
mill.
In tho orchard, which was large,
the walks were spread over with sand,
and the trees, loaded with fruit, af
forlcd II beautiful shady grove. This
was Clara's iavoritc nook; here she
would so and read poetry. She had
been givcI the works OF Lamartiuc,
beautifully bouud. Now, La:nurt!nc
is a very tender poet, ana Clara WIS
still in her teens, and this was sw!n-
mer, aud the frayrauca Of the flowers
md the murmur Of tho breeze acted
on her young mind; and through TIL,
book she would dream of things she
had never dreamed of before.
Onc day her mother asked her if
she remembered her cousin Albert.
"Oh, yes, indeed" said she. This
answer came from her heart; she
blushcd and from her neck to her
brow she felt that sort of electricity
that is produced by a little shame and
great pleasure
"Wcil," said her mother, "you will
see him very soon"
Clara was about to say, ooh, how
glad l am y but she thought it more
proper to say nothing.
And why was she silent? l will tell
you. 1t was because she had rend
Lamartine. Why! does poetry make
one false? Well, 1 don't know, but
it speaks ot lovc-and what is love?
"Wcll," said Clara, 81 have not
seen him for two years. suppose he
is changed"
"Not more than you," said her
mother. casting n loving glance Of
admiration TO her daughter; ''you
were little girl when you went away
you are young lady now."
Clara ran of to her beloved grove
to hide the bushes on her checks and
the beatiuSs OF her heart. She sat
down, drew from her pocket her vol
umc of poetry, but read not lire.
Albert arrived II few days before he
was expected, but she was thinking of
him. She always had roses on her
checks, but these roses changed into
pconics when she saw him and her
hands trcmhled. He took hold of those
hands and kissed her on both c!lccks
He was medical student who had
not yet in hi, brain the least thought
of anything serious; he had suddenly
discovered in himself II vocation for
the beau.ilul science of .1iSculapiuS,
that he might so to Paris to spend II
few years Of his life and waste IL few
Thousand Of his fathers francs.
"Ah! little cousin" said lie, "yon
are pretty now. Why, / am afraid l
shall fail in love with You"
She looked at HIM, not knowing
what to say.
"IInvo you forgotten the good
times we had in this gardca, and over
there in the woods.
"Oh, no" sGid she.
"And when we would 60 rowing
and would scare you by swinging to
and fro in tho boot to capsizo you?"
"Oh, no, l remember it ALL"
"rhcn why don't you put your arms
around my neck and say pleasant
things to mo rs you did thcn?"
81 don't know" she faltcrcd.
l. |
sin Of mine mIs: be little simple