The Bellefontaine Republican. [volume] (Bellefontaine, Logan County, Ohio) 1855-1905, 1899-08-25
my LITTLE LADY,

"and, besides, you know how much dis
like any remarks about my personal ap-
pearance. 1t is quite misfortune enough
| to be so ridiculously small without being
| reminded of it constantly"
"Ah, but one of these days you will be
| great" l would say, and she would laugh
happily at the prophecy. How that hap
py child laugh of hers rings in my ears
even now! To tell you of her appearance
| is to belle her character, for the outward
being and the inner self had no sister
hood save when now and again at some
| chance word that inspired a noble
| thought in her the woman's glorious soul
peeped shy out through her blue eyes till
| they grew dark and deep and the warm
glow of her divine intelligence permeated
and shone through her clear baby skin.
She loved poetry-true poetry-and re-
| membered all she loved in it. All, if you
could have heard her recite poetry as l
have!
At such moments she was beautiful
more than that, worshipful.
| l have seen young men AMI cantanker-
Gus old women rise spellbound to that
bright angel face and listen breathlessly
| for the words as they fell from those
| baby lips.
At such times the beautiful story of the
Christ child in the temple has seemed to
me to gain strength and reality, and l
have pondered wonderingly over the
| power some mortals have to hold and en-
thral others, binding them fast to good or
evil.
l must speak of her as child, sup
pose, in order that you may see her as
she appeared to the physical eye. One
had to know and to love her (the terms
are synonymous) to see her with the eyes
+, of the mind. Those who knew her-they
were not many-saw her as a child, but
they loved her as a woman.
| A woman to be loved fercely, hotly; a
woman to dare for, to work for, to
achieve for-if need be to die for-but to
die for honorably on life's battlefield,
| fighting to the last.
| A woman at whose feet a mans sue
cesses might be laid, and whose one
word Of praise would be all sufficient
guerdon.
All, We women! Will you never under
stand your wondrous powers to make
men or to mar them!
| You laugh at this "high flown nonsense
about child" do you not? forgive you,
for you never knew my little lady.
Until my little lady came into my life
| was alone. Do you know what that
means? Have you realized it? Can you
realize it? To go out into the world, to
| eat and to drink like other people do, to
shake your fellow creatures by the hand
while mentally you spurn them under
foot and void your rheum upon them, to
greet all men and women wit lie upon
your lips-a lie that processes interest in
their health and in them for whom you
care no more than for the starving mon
grel which you drive from your doorstep
with a savage kick and an oath mutter-
ed through set teeth. To be without any
love for any living thing, nay, to hate the
whole huge human race because one man
and one woman have proven unworthy
to. hate and loathe yourself even more
than you detest the vilest thing that
crawls the earth-this it is to be alone.
And so was l until my little lady came
| into my life.
| How well l remember the first time !
met her!
| A silly woman who thought l might
perchance become the purchaser of one
of her silly daughters had asked me to
come and help amuse some children"
thinking, no doubt, that the juvenile set
ting would enhance in my eyes the value
of the jewel she intenoed for me.
| 1t did just the reverse. l have always
loved children, and the sight of their
sweet innocence made me hate the men
and women there still more. l sat in
| corner and watched the children play
| wishing could be one of them again. My
little lady was foremost in the games, but
presently she left the others and came
| to sit near me.
| "Have you a headache?" she asked, in
a voice that struck me almost uncon-
sciously as too deep and full for so young
a girl.
"No; heartache," l answered, without
thinking of what l said, and then, angry
with myself for self betrayal, l tried to
| joke away my answer and to talk non
sense to the child.
| What happened after that l hardly
know. l only know that soon we were
| in deep conversation, and gradually
talked to her as l had never talked to
living being since those two devils-but
no matter! AS left the house l noticed
two stains-tear stains-upon my glove.
l. the misanthrope-I, who almost boast
ed that nothing had touched my heart for
Is years!
| Oh, my little lady, my little lady!
1t was her birthday-her eighteenth
|
rosebud to put in her hair, which she put
up that day for the first time.
| 1t lay unnoticed on the ground at her
feet, now half picked to pieces by her
nervous fingers.
| Fool to have told her then, and so sud-
denly!
| How could a child of her age love a
man of mine?
How could she understand? How
| could She l went away and cursed my
self.
| 1t is four years since l left my little
lady with the panied look in her blue
| eyes and my rosebud at her feet, and in
half an hour l shall see her again.
| She is % today-and l hold her letter
in my hand.
| "Come to me-" she writes. 81 did not
know myself four years ago. Now l do,
dear, and l ask you to come to me-"
l was in Syria when L got that letter.
and have Travelled night and day since
then.
How the horse crawls! Oh, my little
lady, my little Ia
Why are the blinds down?
| Dead! Oh, no, no. It's lie! No, it's
true, and my white rosebud, old and
faded now, like my life, lies upon her
| breast.
Tll-no, l promised her years ago never
to do that whatever happened.
She would not have me break my word
Would that could believe that we shall
meet again.
| hope. Oh, how l hope!-Chicago
| Times Herald.
In the San Francisco schools Japanese
| children are not segregated on the school
rolls, but are classed as whites.