The western sentinel. [volume] (Winston-Salem, N.C.) 1887-1926, 1898-07-14
AN ARTISTIC END.

The sun shone under her straw hat and
made her shade her eyes with her hand
she looked up at me, standing by the
edge Of the river.
"Now, Mr.. Conway, she said, "are you
quite sure you can manage a cancer"
"I'n promise you new frock, Miss
Della, If I upset you, said 1 gallantly,
and we got into the canoe.
looked admiringly at her, taking men
tai stock of her charms. How softly her
dark eyelashes swept her cheek! How
coquettish1y curved her mouth How
dainty the suspicion of a dimple either
side her lipsl How delicately turned her
ohini How becoming the red cushion to
her wealth of black hairl Yes, undoubt-
eddy her nose was retrousse, but a fig for
your stately Greek beauties! There is q
fascination in the-crash into the bank
went the bow of the canoe and the sub
ject of my reverie opened her eyes with
start.
I For the life of me I cannot steer a canoe
and think of something else at the same
time. BY the greatest good luck VIC were
Tot upset.
81 am most awfully sorry" stam-
mered.
81 was nearly asleep" she said.
dreadfuly careless of me. -
''Oh, it really doesn't matter, p" she re-
piled, with great good nature.
padded clear of the bank and vowed
such a collision should not occur again.
Della. however, made no further attempt
to go to sleep.
"How smoothly the river runs" she
said thoughtfully.
unlike the course of true love" add
ed rather weakly.
1t was not very Apostle remark, but
then / knew the topic of love was dan
gerous one for me, and so, foolhhrdy, l
courted it, as does the moth the candle.
There was pause in the conversation,
while successfully negotiated a sudden
bend in the river.
"It's a great pity, isn't it?" said Della.
"What isP" inquired.
"Why, that the course of true love new
er runs smooth. "
ooh, but it does sometimes, really, /
asserted.
81 suppose the love isn't really true,
then" said she. Nowadays books and
plays nearly always end unhappily."
"Oh, WE'LL" said I philosophioally,
"there are two sorts of love-there is a
passionate love, full of presentiment,
which makes a man morbid and melan-
choly and forces him a thousand times to
this sort of love is too lofty for a workaday
world. and the only artistic ending is a
tragic one.
am afraid bored Della now aid again
by holding forth in this way, but she only
gave the politest possible yawn as she
said, "And what about the other?''
THE other, went on, taking care to
watch the couyse of the canoe, lis a ten
der, pastoral love, which makes a man
-f,,I &o1-o ,<Df1f e.
ing him to thank heaven every day that
such a love has fallen to his lot and the
artistic ending is wedding bells and do
mestic happiness"
Dear me, Mr.. Conway" said Della,
smiling. "You seem TO know a great deal
about it
Della has the sweetest gray brown eyes,
and it is an extraordinary pleasure to look
into them longer than is actually neces-
sary while listening to or making re-
mark. Only speaking of artistic endings
made me feel quite certain there was a
more artistic ending to such look than
mutually 60 drop our eyes.
was just thinking about this and how
very graceful some girls look in canoe
when, like fool 1 let my paddle catch in
weed. endeavored as gently as possible
to extricate it, but the weed proved obsti-
nate. Della grew nervous and sat up in
the canoe.
ooh, please be careful, Mr.. Conway"
she cried.
/ pulled trifie harder, but to no pur-
pose. Then I lost patience. / gave the
paddle a sharp jerk. The weed gave way
all too suddenly. Della gave a little
scream, and 1 clutched wildly at the side
of the canoe in vain attempt to keep my
balance. 1t was all over in moment,
and when say all include Della, myself
ba FOL oIr
to the bank, and the water was shallow.
1 scrambled ashore and helped Della on to
dry land as best l could.
'Really, Miss Delia,'' I said feeling
unutterably foolish as 1 caught the paint
er of the canoe and rescued the floating
paddle, I'm never forgive myself for this.
/ wish you were man and could swear at
me-"
"What an awful fright I must look !''
said poor Della, putting back her wet hair
from her face.
I murmured of 'Venus rising from the
sea-" but indistinctly, suddenly doubling
the propriety of the allusion.
"Don't forget your bargain, Mr.. Con-
way" said she, shaking the water from
her bedraggled skirt. "Will you order the
srock, or shall 1 send you in the bill?''
knew it was not very suitable occa-
sion to do anything SO serious make an
offer of marriage; also that it was a very
prosaio way of putting it, but, upon my
word, j couldn't help it.
81 wish you would give me the right to
pay your bills,'' said.
Della blushed and then she laughed.
"Idon't think mind if do, ;" she said
We were both very wet and both very
muddy, but looked into those aforemen-
toned brown eyes, and this time she
didn't turn away, for 1 discovered the
more artistic ending-I put my arm round
her waist and kissed her.-Madame.