Evening journal., 1897-07-15
A MIDSUMMER IDYL.
THE BEAUTIFUL BRANDYWlNE IN
ITS SILVER AND GREEN

CARE LURK WITHIN THE VAL
LEY OF MURMURS AND SUN
SHINE AND SHADOW.
The banks of the romantic Brandy
wine with the FLASHING of The shallow
waters over their rocky Led. The MUIR
mur of waters which have fallen on the
majestic hills of '.he southern counties
Of Pennsylvania and worked their way
by devious course until they form a
beautiful picture as they rush on their
way TO the mighty Delaware
The evening zephyrs sigh through The
leaf-laden branches OF the trees, whis-
pering sweet lullaby to the nesting
bird which ohirps a sleepy accompani-
ment
The golden harps of the angelic host
around the great white throne of God
cannot seem more calling to Satan
within the ebon halls of his dark king
dem than does this great Aeolian harp
OF the Creator sound to the man who is
under the rod. The golden harps of the
high courl of heaven never sounded
sweeter to the ear of Lazarus in the
al no Vi - III lildn uOt1 lllt luuHlt
OF nature in this sylvan retreat sound
to the man who is at peace with him
self and all the world; to the man who
has never suffered the chastisements of
a wrathful providence and whose heart
has not been scalded by the hot blood
Of consuming grief.
1t Is a beautiful spot-divinely beau
tiful Not grand, but simply beautiful
Too beautiful to be grand, and yet too
imposing TO be called pretty. A bab-
bling stream, rushing over dams, tumb-
ling madly over rocks, smiling placidly
upon you from its depths in divers
places, and laughing gleefully at you as
it ripples over it's pebbles. 1t Is a silver
| girdle enhancing the beauty of nature
and bringing worshipers to her feet,
and along both sides of it fourishes the
deep woodland green.
II was a beautiful evening in June.
The sun, as it sank behind bank of
! crimson and fleecy clouds in the west
threw a sheen of golden color over the
Il hills on the north side of the stream
i The banks OF the south side were en-
ve,oped in gray and brown shadows
such as delight the eye of the artistic
lover OF nature.
It was difficult to suppose that any.
\ lhing but happiness could find being
/, within this enchanted spot. But where
outside OF heavens confines, is unalloy
; ed happiness to be found? Where doe
} not grief penetrate? Can it be pre-
? sumed that there is magic influence
] within these waters which constitute.
! their plash and gurgle and murmu
/ balm for the wounded heart and chafeC
spirit. and that merely gazing at thei
FI r,1Dnf1 Hanfb
i should bring surcease OF sorrCw2 No
, for If this were true its banks would b
% lined daily with those who are seelinl
for contentment which they cannc
/, find. The millionaire would joEtle tn
pauper; the 'ecclesiast and The SHINE
r would rub elbows, and the judge an
r the conscience-stricken murderer woul
3, stand side by side-all seeking for tn
{ one .hing which does not exist, an
t that thing perfect happiness.
But there are those who love to nurs
v their sorrows. They seek places whic
i call to mind most vividly and painful
j. those thoughts which they ought
70 forget. They live partly but not who'll,
within themselves and permit the
II griefs to eat out of their natures a
= that they should cherish, both for the
own health and happiness and for th
health and happiness of others. The
are all around us, and their depressin
influence is felt in every walk of if
They glory in their own misery an
l. would impart its gloom to all who con
near them.
Pacing backward and forward >aloI
D one of the most sequestered paths
r lhe park and in close proximity to u
at banks OF the rushing stream on tn
OF balmy June evening was a man. II
le gait was unsteady, and his head WI
TO bowed to his breast SObs shook h
IN frame; and, at times, he gesticulat'
ne wildly. Presently the bent head
an raised and a face is revealed .hat is d
IL very embodiment OF grief and consur
he ing care. The eyes are sunken al
On bloodshot: the cheeks are hollow al
u unshaven, and the hair is disshevt
~. ed. He is a pitiable object, and his p
s. culiar actions attract the attention
IL dhe park guard. Finally he draws
nd photograph from his inner coat-pock
e- and looks at it savagely.
ne "The victim of some faithless swe'
heart" murmurs the guard. III
to him and see if / cannot comic
s. him"
Y. The crunching of the gravel and h
al- breaking of dry twig attracts the ;
Il. tention of the grief-stricken man.
W. turns and looks resentfully at the
as truder
IS 'Is there anything ! can do for you
gh asked the Samaritan in blue.
'as Nothing, unless you have some {
rt traordinary influence with the minds
es. men in high places and are willing
to exercise it in my behalf, said the gri
est stricken man, gleam of hope meme
ay. tarily lighting up his features.
"I am sorry, but / have no inhueI
OIL whatever in high places" said the co
cts passionate park guard.
Then all is lost, and woe unto m
shrieked the mourner, "for am an
lte dicks man" and. dropping the pho
80 graph, he fled into the dark shadows
35 the southern hills.
.S5 The park guard picked up the pho
GRO N, onH trQ1rd Of ff rr~ifb frIo,.o..f