Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-07-24
A PEACEMAKER.
Rosanna Moore was a little girl of about


IA. She was an only child, and very ugly.
600 to bed, Rosanna."
Tremblingly the little girl approached
her mother to give her the kiss of good
night.
" 'Tis 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 tho yet humid
cheek.
He kissed her tenderly.
Retiring to her chamber, she commenced
embroiderng 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-
ceivcd it coldly, and expressed none of
those tender sentiments which were to
have been the sweet little ones reward!
Her eyes by chance glanced over to a
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 alienatcd 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 VIC
lent passion and became, in consequence of
+u;H two
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 seated in the parlor.
Mr.. Moore was arranging the fire. When
this was concluded he threw the tongs
from him, snatched n book from the man
tel and opened 1t abruptly. But after a
moments perusaI he closed it again in a
violent humor, cast Il 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 wherewith her mother
had been drying her weeping eyes and dried
them second time Herewith; she then
tenderly mbraced 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-
ther would make the first overture, and
without tho 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 1t to her fathers as it lay near
her heart. Human pride could not resist
longer-the alienated parents rose at the
same moment and cordially embraced each
other.
From that hour Rose was the idol of
them both.
Six years after this Rosanna-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.
Ono summer evening the sun, which
during the day had shed over nature ar
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 sutfocating, and
ono 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 noursh. A drowsy
languor overcane every one
In Il 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
ly 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 murmur of
some distant rivulet. A young woman,
seated before II piano, was expressing her
hearts sentiments by an extempore mel
ody now smooth and tender, now deep and
trembling.
No more whispering, but general 81
lence took place. for hers was 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
momentary CONFUSION. He listened to
the angels voice, so softly harmonizing
with the sweet tones of the instrument,
and felt an indescribable sensation thrill
through his frame.
The music ceased, but the sweet voice
still vibrated on Underwood's ear, and
there was charm in her witty and orig
inal tritle 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 ohoice'' and
he involuntarily sighed.
Suddenly lights were brought in. Tho
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 OH
her second time, and he found her less
highland 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.