The Hawaiian star. [volume] (Honolulu [Oahu]) 1893-1912, 1897-04-15
ALL FOR LOVE.

N grave lhcCu, broad ShOuldcrCd young
| EngliShmur was Facing ihc d ok of an At
lantic liner lound icr Nuw Srk
! He was ig and prs, crous looking
| Perhaps TIC l,EN chiuchila oycrcout with
/ high COZ g 'JrD,l up about his ears to
/ protect hu from tire stiff. rnlt scented
/ breeze lent him this air of prosperity. His
| lluc eyes lrrb,d oct s.,adfastly. q little
| stcrnly maybe, at the empty deck and the
| gray waste Of Witlrs The other uasscn.
gers were singing and dancing in the cab
in, but George Reynolds found the society
of the lowering sky ard the lonely stretch
of waters more to his taste
The tinklc of musical instrument fell
upon his car. Was it the pia.lo in the cab
in speeding the feet of the dancers? Not
that. The sound was wild and plaintivc
and in keeping with the storm threatening
day. The Enqlishman followed the strange
/ music To its source. Down among the
/ slCrragc Passengers young girl was
drumming broken tamhourine bCdcck-
cd with soilcd ribbons She sat a little
apart from the rest, her head bent over the
instrument, which sobbcd and sang alter
natcly beneath her touch.
a bent, witchlikc CronC saw the attcn-
tive attitude of the English intruder.
PLAY something gay for the gentleman,
ftilcc, she Whispered.
The girl lifted an oval face of dark per.
fcction, swept IA laughing glance from her
slnmbrous black eyes at the young man.
and the waiting strain changed to a bar
barrie song of adventure and prowcss, of
beauty and love. She sang, too, in low
subtle voice with weird notes in it. The
Englishman did not understand the words,
but the mystic language of youth and hope
II;
ligible
He looked long at the dark, hirdlike
head, the slim, nervous, brown fingers. the
tawdry gypsy finery and listened to the
N.lyoty contralto voice. He was drunk with
rapture.
"Ah! But you do not know the Ian.
guage of the hills and the rivers and the
woods. Come with me and learn them,
my own. The smoke of this great city sti-
flcs me- Its roar makes me deaf
AT night, when you sleep, push aside
the curtains that | may see the moon, and
she talks to me mysteriously, and | think
L am in camp in the mountain road
where | smell the pine trees and where the
falling stream sings to me. Oh, dear one.
must go or l die
George Reynolds listened sadly to the
words of his gypsy wife. He had married
her when they reached New York They
lived in Pretty suburban cottage, and he
was engaged in small but thriving bust,
ness in the city. His dream of wife and
home had been realized. That of n compe-
tcncy had almost taken form The gypsy
girl was affcctionate. She was true, but
the barbarous instincts of her ancestors
could not be wholly crushed
Gifts and carCsSCs no longer diverted
hon - ,,x 1.
ing when he came home. She craved the
wild freedom of her girlhood life She
could not live without it.
"You are used to the factory, and the
shop, and the crowded street." she said.
"but they kill me. l must go, but will not
you go, too my husband?"
He lifted her arms gently from about
his neck ard went out into the street For
hours he walked about aimlcssly. He
could not restrain her longing for her old,
wandering life. He might be n cruel iail-
er, but then She would learn TO hate him
1t would lie worse than death to see her
tUcn from him in fear But the business
and the home! All the instincts of his
conservative ancestors in trade rose in re-
bellion against giving them up. When he
unlocked the door and stepped into the
little parlor, he had not decided.
His wife had thrown herself upon the
sofa in passion Of tears. Childlike, she
had cried herself to sleep. She sighed and
her lips trcmbled as her sturdy, troubled
husband looked down upon her
The struggle was over
He kissed her forehead.
II will give up all for you, Felice," he
said.
THE gypsy king is dead" said the
al xra,ll In,
other, and they went to the camp to view
the remains.
He lay in a coffin that looked strangely
out of place in the small tent. 1t was as
elegant as that in which the rich factory
owner had been buried the week before |
His features We're calm and strong, and
his limbs must have been very powerful
in life His gray hair had still some gold |
en- threads in it. His skin was as fair as
an infants. HE is a white man, whis- |
pcrcd the curiosity seekers and stole away
to gossip about it.
a small, dark woman pretty still, al |
though past her prime, wept broken heart
cdly over the coffin. Come away, mother |
you must rest" said II tall young man
who stood beside her. "He has blue eyes," |
whispered girl who was peeping into the |
tent. Whoever heard of blue eyed
gypsyy'
The funeral service was read next day |
by an Episcopal clergyman in robes. |
George Reynolds was an honest man"
he said, "a devoted husband and father"
1t was true. Was his sacrifice too great? |
Is the motto, IAN for love and the world |
well lost, " more ignoble than "All for the
world and love well lost.'
The dead mans face was very strong
and very peaceful. Patterson in st.
Louis Republic.
His Reasons.