The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1898-08-11
A BOY ROMEO.

The garden wall, illuminated by the
moon, is white amid the dark green shrub
berry, the night air with SAVIOR of damp
ness stirs the clusters of white flowers and
the shower of star shaped blossoms falls
silently like perfumed snow.
A curly dark head peeps over the top of
the ladder, and a voice that wishes to be
firm betrays a slight tremor, hesitating
between the syllables:
"Ma-riar'
ST am here. But, for heavens sake,
speak low. There is still light in papa 8
room. Oh, dear me, I'm so frightened
haven't any blood in my veinsi''
''Come farther this way. Don't be
afraid Come under the shadow of the
branches; so-no, farther this wayl''
She advanced with little, uncertain,
short steps. Her slender white figure, still
almost that of a child, flies along the
gravel of the path. She crouches trem-
bling at the foot of the low wall, among
the branches of dropping ivy, and looks
up toward the laughing eyes which shine
through the leaves.
'Oh, Alfredol And if you fall and hurt
yourselfl''
1.-THE ideal My poor little dovel You
are all like that, you womenl I, instead
difficulties animate mel They spur me
onward; they electrify mel For you I
would be capable of much more. Maria,
do you care for me?''
Eyes. Speak low. hear a oreaking "
sit is the wind. Do you care for me?
Swear it!''
Il swear it'll Don't joggle the ladder.
Look-oh, the ladder is totteringP'
1T need your love in order to struggle
against lifel A mass of blockheads, of
scoundrels, of idiotsl But we win tri-
umph over everything if you will only
"WhatP''
"Be strong and faithful Be my muse
and my poetry"
but am. Only, you know, papa is
so strict he would like to have me play
dolls yet, and he says that YOU
'What? Speak, 7 am prepared for ev-
erything What did he say? I am superior
to these trifes. Tell mel''
''That you are a naughty boy, that you
would do better to be at your lessons and
that if he catches you"-
interruption. The wind laughs among
the trees with a soft little murmur of
irony.
''Are you weeping, treasurer I will
avenge your tears one by oneI'
''Yesi'
The sweet, musical little voice is lost in
a stammer of sobs. Your father is bar
barian, tyrant like mine, but no matter
Love is light, is power; it brushes obsta-
will be mine"
eyes, but if you do not pass the exami-
nation
Il shall pass It'll A thing of no aocountl
The teacher has dislike to me-imagine
what beast Maria, have brought you
something. have kissed it so much.
Promise, darling, that you will keep it
always, you know, even when it shall be
withered. Take it. No, your hands-no,
your apron"
She holds forth, spread, her ample child
ish apron, and he throws down, light as a
flake, large velvety pansy, with thick,
soft petals, dotted with gold, which seem
like the ardent eyes of a living person.
She takes it into her trembling little
hands and places it upon her lips with
idolatrOus fervor.
"Swear to me that you will not be false
to me- insists the fervid lover of Is years
of age. ''By the memory of your mother
promise me that you will not be anoth-
er's."
She weeps little more loudly.
Poor mammal
eff she sees me from heavenI
''She will not be pleased with mel
"Indeed am doing wrongI
elbow dark it isl
"And if papa should suspect
"And if your
''What ideas, Martial They are sound
anything of love any longer-do you I'M
derstand? They don't remember what it
means to love like you and me- without
fears, without cowardlinesses, with a full
ness of felicity, with that intoxication -
This phrase, read in realistic novel,
appears unwilling to be recalled with ex-
actitude. And perhaps it is on this &C
count that the moon hides behind the cedar
of Lebanon, fringed with silver, its broad
ly smiling face.
Alfredo it is late-1et me CO."
''No, not yet-how can you think of
anything as commonplace as sleep? 1t is
a delicious night. l am wide awake full
of daring. There is a wiIdness in my blood
which lashes it onward. 1 feel myself capa-
BILE of great heroic enterprises. What 8
that?''
His voice, arisen by degrees to the de-
cided intonations of manhood, is lost in
an exclamation of senseless, childish ter
ror.
The ladder creaks, trembles, shakes
with a great push from invisible hands.
'tAhl You rascal
1--WE caught you at lasti
'tIdler, nadcap, good for nothingl
"Boy hardly out of the nurseryl
''I'n teach you
Thumpl Thumpl
The wind rattIes the branches with dry
little insulting laughs, while from the
other side of the wall resounds a desperate
cry, and the great white face of the moon
pityingly wells itself in the mists of night
and mercifuIly conceals the shame of the
place of paternal punishment Short
Stories.
stewed Ants and Things.
Ante ctov-o5 in bufter ara a Injury in