The true Democrat. [volume] (Bayou Sara [La.]) 1892-1928, 1898-01-01

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father had died
when was sixteen years old, leaving
us nothing but an honest reputation,
and, although Twas stout and healthy,
my wages were very low, and I had to
toll late and early to provide the
necossaries Of life. But I suppose !
would have been happy and contented
enough; that is, as much as we I'M
satisfied mortals usually are, if It had
Mt been for woman. I don't know
why it was that Helen Linton made
such IN impression on me, for she had
by no means those great and noble
qualities by which men as q general
thing ore attracted toward the opposite
sex. On the contrary, she was proud,
arrogant and overbearipg, and I was
confident if she thought Of me at all,
it was with feelings Of contempt and
disdain alone.
Not on account OF my personal ap-
! pearance, it is true, for though 1 was
rough and uncultivated, and my hands
were hard with excessive toll, and my
face Drowned by exposure to the sun,
still had wonderful strength and great
agility, and my hair and eyes we're as
dark as midnight, and many said that
I was handsome. But I was poor and
she was wealthy. I was General Lin
toms hired hand and she was General
Linton's daughter, and it was the old,
old story. It must have been her be-
wildering beauty that drew me more
and more toward her, for she was q
queenly.looking girl, with flashing
eyes and magnificent dark brown hair,
and form tall and stately. But,
whatever it might have been, I am
certain Of one thing, and that is, that
1 learned to love her with madden
ing, painful, consuming passion that
seemed about to devour my whole be-
ing. I tried very hard to smother it
and to drive her image from my heart.
I knew I might as we'll think of pluck
ing down the moon or the stars as to
have dared to aspire to her hand.
But it was all of no avail; the more
I struggled the more I became en-
tangled. In the morning, noon and
night there was but one face that I
saw, and but one voice that I heard,
and that was the face and voice of
Helen Linton. What was worst OF
oil, to me, in some way she discovered
my secret. How, I can hardly tell.
They say murder will out, and the
same con most assuredly be said about
love. I had never spoken about it to
my one-not even to my mother-and
as to Helen, I had scarcely ever
spoken to her on any subject. 1t is
true that sometimes she would give
me instructions in regard to the flower
garden, which General Linton had Sc
lected me to manage, having, as he
said, more opinion ofmy taste in such
matters than any of the rest of his
workmen, but she never condescend-
ed further. I worshiped her like q
star from afar off, and knew the dis
lance between us to be as wide and as
impossible.
One day she came into the garden
when | was at work there, and i'm
PEELED by some unknown power, as it
were, I gathered and presented to her
a choice bouquet of flowers; and
whether it was from my guilty looks
that she then discovered all, and de-
terminel to check me in the begin
ming, or whether she had already
probed to the depths Of my heart and
thought was presumptuous, 1 know
not; but certain it is she never spoke
to me after that. She had been in the
habit of giving me q nod Of recogni-
ton whenever she met NE before this,
but after this she passed me by with
out even glance; disdain within her
naughty eye, and contempt upon her
scornful lip. You may know that my
life was as wretched as it could we'll
be. I used to sit down by the fire in
our little cabin, after my hard days
work was done, and curse my wretch
ed fate, and call God unjust in what I
considered the distinctions He made
in the human race, but I little knew
then what the sequel would be.
Crowds of company, gay ladies and
gentlemen, came every summer from
the city to spend the season at Linton
Hall, and itso happened that one sum-
mer came among the rest a young gen
tleman named Arthur st. John. He
was reported to be wealthy, and hand
some he certainly was, and it was not
very long before he commenced pay
ing attention to General Linton's
and it was easy enough to
see that she was as infatuated as he
was. They used to ride by our little
cottage on the bright summer even
ings, on the Forest road, as it was
called, on their praucing horses, he
bending fondly above her, whispering
words of love and tenderness, and she
listening to them with flush on her
cheek and smile upon her lip. Ire