Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1896-06-04

whose nest was in the III dcrbrush, dis
tnrbcd in its sleep, fluttcrcd up before
tlem, and, stupid with sIumbcr, flew
to a ncighboring bough. Ada some
times plucked a flower, or cautiously
touched with her finger one of tho
LITTLE glow worms, which in great num-
Errs edged the path with their greenish
light. They went down 20 the Main
and back again to the park fence, fac
ing NInrltbreit. Just as they reached
il the clock struck one, and the night
Waterman blew his horn and again
solcnnly intoucd his old-l0shioncd
melody:
zone thing. Lord God Of truth. We want:
happy leath to US ali grant"
The full magic OF the moment held
them both in it's thrall. Bergman pas
aionately clasped Ada's head between
his hands, and pressed long, ardent
Kiss on her golden hair and her white
brow. Drawing long breath, she SUBJ
mittcd, not shrinking Back until his
burning lips sought hers Their hearts
beat audibly as they continued their
walk, and long pauscs interrupted their
faltering speech.
What did they say to each other?
Why repeat il? One who has never had
such conversations will not understood
them, and one who has experienced
them only needs to De reminded of them.
They are always the same. Memories
of childhood, rapture and extravaganza,
words of enthusiastic love, words which
create the slight tremor of the skin
like a cool breeze on thc caress of toy
ing fingers. SO they aallicd u long,
long time in the dark park, without
needing the fight of time, far from
The world and unutterably happy.
Il nm tired, Karl" Ada said at last,
and leaned her head on mis- shoulder.
They were near n low, grassy bank. a
few PAGES from the centInl avenue, and
almost under the balcony of the castle,
but completely concealed by the dense
shadow of the ovcr-arching trees. Karl
spread his shawl over the bank and
the ground, placed Ada on il, and re-
clncd at her feet, resting his head in
her lap. The balcony and the windows
and lights of the drawing-room could
all be seen from this spot. The window
still stood open, the notes of a piano
were heard, and II voice began the song:
From out my tears will bloom
Full many a fiowret fair"
A pretty, but@smewhat cold, female
voice, with no special tenderness and
feeling. Yet the combined poesy of
IIeine and Schumann triumphed glo-
riously over the inalequacy of the exc
cution. The wonderful, choral-like
melody scared like the light of swan
over the rapt pair, and completely dis.
solved their souls in melody and love:
before thy windows shall ring
The song Of the nightingale,
sang the woman's voice above. and the
accompanying piano completed the air
with an organ-lil>e closing accord.
"Beforc thy windows shall ring
The song of the nightingale"
Karl softly repeated, in his beautiful
baritone, thrilling with an approaching
tempest of passion, his arms clasped
,Ada's waist, and he gazeG up at her
with wild, flaming eyes. She bent down
to him and her lips met his, which near
~ scorched them. Leaning back, and
gently pushing his head away, she whs'
lpered:
Don't repeat verses by Ileine; say
something which is yours, and is com
posed for me-"
THAT | will, Ada" ne cried, and,
kneeling before her, claspng her in u
close embrace and devourng her fac