The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1897-05-26
A PEACEMAKER.

Irem bhngly the little girl approached
her mother to give her the kiss of good
night.
% IT'S useless, you little monster, - said
her mother.
A tear rolled from the little ones eye
She hastily wiped it away, and turning to
her father presented him the yet humid
cheek.
He kissed her tenderly.
Retiring to her chamber, she commenced
embroidering a scarf, and worked thus part
of the night, for she desired to be able to
present it to her mother when she rose in
the morning
On the morrow Rose presented the scarf
to her mother. What was the pain the lit
tie one experienced when her mother re-
ceived it coldly, and expressed none of
those tender sentiments which were to
have been the sweet little ones rewardI
Her eyes by chance glanced over to
neighboring mirror.
Eyes, - she said internally, 81 am ugly.
They are right" and she sought in her
young head to find remedy for ugliness.
And then in the world new pangs
wounded the little ugly ones heart. A
first impression aIienated all the young
girls of her own age. But then she was so
good, so amiable that they approached,
then listened and then loved her. Now,
indeed, our little one was happy.
One day Mr. Moore went home in a vio-
lent passion and became, in consequence of
some trihing prevarication, highly incensed
against his wife Their domestic felicity
was troubled for eight long days; for eight
long days Mrs. Moore was continually cry
ing Rosanna in vain racked her young
brains to discover why, but her father still
continued angry, and her mother was still
continually weeping. At last she reflected
in her mind how to reconcile them.
They were all three sea ted in the parlor
Mr.. Moore was arranging the fire. When
this was concluded he threw the tongs
from him, snatched a book from the man
tel and opened it abruptly. But after
moments perusal he closed it again in
violent humor, cast a fierce glance at his
trembling wife and hurriedly rose from
his chair.
Rosanna, deeply moved, clasped her arms
about his neck as he was about to rise, and
affectiOnately caressed him. He could not
reject her innocent coaxing, and the little
girl, thinking she had succeeded in touch
ing his heart, took in her hands the mois-
tened handkerchief vvherewith her mother
had been drying her weeping eyes and dried
them a second time Herewith; she then
tenderly EN- braced her mother, who return
ed her affectionate caress with all moth
er's fondnesS.
The parties being now favorably dis
posed, naught remained but to establish
the peace. This was no easy matter; nei-
Their would make the first overture and
without the penetration of little Rose the
reconciliation would not have taken place
She took her fathers hand between her
own little hands and pressed it to her
bosom; she then took her mothers hand
and joined it to her fathers as it lay near
her heart. Human pride could not resist
1onger-the alienated parents rose at the
same moment and cordially EN- braced each
other.
From that hour Rose was the idol Of
them both.
Six years after this Roganna-the ugly
Rosanna-was the ornament of every So
ciety to which her mother presented her.
Amiable, witty and observing, her CONVEX
sation was universally courted.
One summer evening the sun, which
during the day had shed over nature an
intense heat, had just disappeared, leav
ing the horizon covered with long, wide
bands of red; clouds more and more dark
were heaping themselves on the eastern
sky; the atmosphere was suffocating and
one would deem the earth was returning
to the sun the heat she had been receiving
from the latter during the day. All was
heavy and weary-the air inhaled seemed
rather to suffocate than nourish. A drowsy
languor OvercaIne every one.
In a salon, whose every window was
thrown open, might be seen gliding here
and there in the darkened light groups of
young females, whose white dresses slight
" agitated by the rising breeze of the even
ing, offered something mysterious and po-
etical, whereon the imagination loved to
dwell. A low, languishing whisper was
then heard, like the soothing murniur of
some distant rivUlet. A young woman,
seated before piano, was expressing her
hearts sentiments by an extempOro mel
ody now smooth and tender, now deep and
trembling.
No more whispering, but a general 81
lence took place. for hers was a celestial
symphony-a seraph's Song.
Lord Underwood, a fine, blue eyed young
nobleman, was so deeply touched by the
melody that his frame seemed agitated by
a mOmentary CONFUSION. He listened to
the angels voice, so softly harmonizing
with the sweet tones of the instrument,
and felt an understandable sensation thrill
through his frame
The music ceased, but the sweet voice
still vibrated on Underwood's ear, and
there was a charm in her witty and orig
inal trifle to which he listened that trans
fixed him where he stood.
How beautiful must that young girl
be" thought Underwood. Happy the
man on whom may fall her chOicel'' and
he involuntarily sighed.
Suddenly lights were brought in. The
young woman was the ugly Rosanna.
Lord Underwood was stupefed; he
closed his eyes, but the memory of that
voice haunted his memory. He gazed on
her a second time, and he found her less
ugly-and Rose was indeed less ugly. The
beauties of her mind seemed transferred to
her person, and her gray eyes, small as
they WERE. expressed, wonderfully well,
her internal sensations.
Lord Underwood welded Rosanna, and
became the happiest of men in the posses
sion of the kindest and most loving of
women.
Beauty deserts us, but virtue and tai
ents, the faithful companions of our lives,
accompany US even to the grave.-New
York News.
Miracles.