The Camden chronicle. (Camden, Tenn.) 1890-current, 1896-08-28
The Train Cannot Wait. y


grey eyes large grey eyes that laugh
just as well as her red lips her figure,
though little frail, makes one think
what a pretty woman she will be soon.
Her hands and arms are those Of a
child--is she not still a child? Clara
left school but fortnight ago. She
is tho beloved and only daughter OF
rich miller in the neighborhood Of
Avesnes.
Nothing is more poetical than q mill
in the country. 1t docs not disturb
the silence Of the air with its monoto-
nous tic.tac; on the contrary its noise,
strong and regular, is like an accom-
paniment to tho many other noises Of
tho wind, and of tho trees, and OF the
birds Clara was charmed with it all.
During a few days after her arrival
the whole house was upset. making
and receiving calls, dinner parties,
dancing parties, lawn tennis; the days
we're not long enough to hold their
pleasures. Then all was quiet at the
mill.
In the orchard, which was large,
the walks we're spread over with sand,
and the trees, loaded with fruit, af-
forded beautiful shady grove. This
was Clara's favorite nook; here she
would 90 and read poetry. She had
been givea the works Of Lamartine,
beautifully bound Now, Lamartine
is a very tender poet, and Clara was
still in her teens, and this was sum-
mer, and the fragrance of the flowers
and the murmur of the breeze acted
on her young mind; and through this
book she would dream of things she
had never dreamed of before.
One day her mother asked her if
she remembered her cousin Albert.
"Oh, yes, indeed, said she. This
answer came from her heart; she
blushed and from her neck to her
brow she felt that sort Of electricity
that is produced by little shame and
great pleasure,
"Well, said her mother, ''you will
see him very soon"
Clara was about to say, ooh, how
glad ami but she thought it more
proper to say nothing.
And why was she silent? l will tell
you. It was because sue had read
Lamartine. Why does poetry make
one false? Well, I don't know, but
it speaks OF love-and what is love?
swell, said Clara, 81 have not
seen him for two years. suppose he
is changed"
''Not more than you" said her
mother, casting loving glance Of
admiration to her daughter; ''you
we're little girl when you went away
You are young lady now"
Clara ran off to her beloved grove
to hide the bushes on her cheeks and
the beatings Of her heart. She sal
down, drew from her pocket her vol
. ume Of poetry, but read not line.
Albert arrived few days before h'
was expected, but she was thinking O.
him. She always had roses on hel
cheeks, but these roses changed into
peonies when she saw him and he
hands trembled. He took hold of thos
hands and kissed her on both cheeks
He was a medical student who haC
not yet in his brain the least though
Of anything serious; he had suddenl.
discovered in himself vocation TO
the beautiful science OF Hsculapius
that he might go to Paris to spend
few years of his life and waste fe'
thousand OF his fathers francs.
"Ah little cousin, said he, 'yo
are pretty now. Why, am afraid
shall fall in love with you.
She looked at him, not KNOWN
what to say.
"Haye you forgotten tho goo
times we had in this garden, and owe
there in the woods