The Winslow mail., 1899-09-21

grovel around and chain the soul to
earth.
Douselle listened reverently from her
swaying perch, the branch of an acacia
tree, and the memory of one she had
loved came back intertwined with the
melodies of the old German master, un-
til her heart was filled with tender and
regretful memories.
How sweet the air! how gentle the
forthcoming twilight, and how entranc-
ing the calm beauty of this soft summer
night, glorified by those heavenly
strainsi
Say, girls and boys, this is slow
awful slow! Come on, let's go down.
town, around the cafes on the levee, and
have jag!" This was Dicks PROPOSE
ton, and the others laughed
''Oh, how can you! How wicked and
absurd you are!" said Douselle. "Are
not the afternoon hours slipping by
fast? Why leave this pleasant spot for
the noise, din and confusion of those
ugly, narrow streets?
'Soon the stars will come out, and the
dews will fall, and peace will settle Sc
cure and gentle over these lofty trees.
Here you can sleep undisturbed until
the gray dawn steals back in the east
and the shafts of light of another day
will awake you to your joys and sor-
rows"
Marrow, and ugly, and dirty, and
noisy they may be, and certainly are"
retorted Dick, obstinately and vicious
ly; "but there's lots of fun going on in
the streets down yonder, all the same.
Sometimes it's fire, sometimes a mur-
der, pickpocket dashes by or man
beats woman, and there's always a
fight somewhere in those dark alleyways
and around the wharves, and cries, and
shouts, and laughter"
"Oh, it's lots of fun up here, what
with our responsibility and our quiet
life; what do we do? Eat and fiutter
around this old church, listen to Men
delssohn, Mozart and Beethoven. Then
go to sleep and grow fat. Ugh! Give
me little more variety, say l, even if it
be murder and deviltry."
''Ohr silly, silly BIRDS" said Douselle,
family futtering her wings in agita-
ton, her heart sore that the beauties of
so serene and beautiful a life, one re-
mote from danger and care, should be
misunderstood and fiouted by the tur-
bulent, inquisitive youth around her.
Foolish, irrational and hasty! Must
you have danger, sorrow and regret? :?
Must you view the hideous contentious
of humanity? Risk the blow which may
crush out the life from your frail
bodies? Serve as target for some stray
shot, which would pierce your heart, or
worse, which might, by wounding, Grip
pie your free fight up into eternal re-
gions for all time until your short span
is run?'
The sparrows twitter on fercely.
Il think Douselle is right. We ought
not to go back to those nasty, ill-smell-
ing old streets, where beggars and
tramp dogs and water rats abound.
Horrible!" said Wings, with shudder.
But there are other places we can
go to, L should imagine, to get little
variety.
Il must say I'm rather tired myself of
! 'stabat mater and the rest of it. This
music the wonderful organist plays so
divinely is great, but it pals on one''
Wings chirped and yawned and
jumped restlessly along the edge of the
fence.
You love the water. There is place
by the edge of the river, among the will
lows and drift wood, where a small
house has been built by fisherman. 1
will take you there" said Douselle, and
courage came back to her heart, and n
bright light to her eyes, as the picture
of that lovely cottage arose before her.
"Where is it? Anything for lark.
Let's go there" promptly acquiesced
Dick, while the sparrows clustered
around.
at is small habitation, built by pa
tient industry, and peace dwells be-
meath its quaint roof. 1t is outside the
levee, and stands on tall supports, for
when the river rises its waters swirl
and eddy and surge beneath its thin
flooring and sweep away it's fragile
doorsteps.
"a boat is tied to an iron ring
clamped in the post which upholds its
door, and Joseph Constant, its owner,
sings softly to himself sweet psalms
and boat songs as he sits on his porch
and works diligently at his wicker
baskets for shrimp catching.
''In winter, the waters thunder and
roar, and bend and sway the willow
trees, which grow green and thick
around, and Joseph Constants lamp
shines out like beacon and guiding
star for the ferryman, who plies his
skiff back and forth lower down the
bend.
] I'm summer, small boats rock as the
tide ripples along the shore in front,
and where driftwood accumulates, tidy
French women come from the markets
to buy the jumping shrimps, and fish,
| in Joe Constants creels, and boys
gather to work for the patient fisher
man. whose voice is gentle, and whose
hand is ever ready to give help and sue
cor, and whose heart has been kept
simple and honest by the whisperings
of the great river, as it sweeps by his
solitary door, by the great voice of ma
ture, holding silent communion with
him during the changeful seasons, and
by the soft song of the gurgiing water
in the willows, when the breezes blow
and the night winds rustic over them.
I'm Joseph Constants cottage, on the
edge of the river, Peace sits by his side,
l.. -