The Bellefontaine Republican. [volume] (Bellefontaine, Logan County, Ohio) 1855-1905, 1899-11-03
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: 4 BLIGHTED MIND +:

+ A BLlGHTED MIND :
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Yet, ah, that spring should vanish with the rose.
That youths sweet scented manuscript should
closel
Omar Khayyam.
Alwys did not assist in the parish.
There were so many women who did that
kind of thing-women who had once been
quite young.
Alan arrived. He was the new doctor
who had bought old Manselps practice.
For brief throbbing period church work
| ceased to be all engrossing to certain of
the congregation from whose waiting
hearts all hope had not yet faded, as
leaves on the decay Of summer, for whom
all possibilities were not yet ended.
| But from the beginning Oakwood saw
only Alwys. He loved her devoutly when
first he beheld her one May evening in
the old church, sitting in an overcrowded
pew and dressed in black IA shabby black,
if he had noticed), with radiant eyes
| fixed, it seemed to him, on the stained
window above the altar. 1t was q poor
specimen of a stained window-a senti-
mental st. Peter dragged an impossible
net out of a pale. dirty sea. The half
trained choir droned with their own ac-
cent, "'Owly, 'Owly, 'Owlyw The school
master organist blundered on the pedals,
as usual. Alan wondered much at the
fervor of the young girl, rapt as some
virgin visionary of old time. For himself
he had come only to be seen, which IL
necessary for the country doctor.
Love grew like a flower in the sun
shine. They were intensely happy, and
Alwys' parents were pleased. It was q
complacent relief to them, for the child
was delicate and by nature untitled to do
battle.
And so the early summer passed, a glad
procession of quickly speeding days, and
the joy in their hearts was overwhelm-
ing. so that they marveled at their own
happiness. 1t was perfect.
But the time was short, for one day
as Alan rode out along the Northbank
road to an urgent case of diphtheria in
a house beyond the town he met q gypsy
caravan creaking slowly along the road
to Hildon fair. His quiet old hack grew
uneasy and restive at its approach. When
the yellow painted van drew near, the
warm smell Of the bears pelt and the
low vibrating growl sent Bruce mad
with panic. There was no holdine
him. Half mile farther on he crashed
into a stone wall. Horse and rider were
killed instantly. Alan was carried back
to Hildon.
Alwys did not cry; only the faint color
left her cheeks, and the light died from
her face. The night Of the burial II
rained, and then she wept for the first
time. She feared for him under thu
damp mold.
Sometimes she would meet q villagel
whose bright good morning" she passei
unheedingly, and sometimes little browl
birds would futter in her path, and
cheeping, fly away unnoticed, for she ha(
eyes that saw not and ears that hearf
not At night she slept Ill. but sa
crouching in chair through the darl
hours, and when the birds sang early
in the morning she rose and went out
The fresh sounds of summer were I
vacant silence and the gladness Of tn,
day as nothing to her. Everything hat
ceased to be-extinguished In her dull
memory. And only a week before sh'
had been alive.
The man was coming toward her. Tn
way he vaulted the stile caused her hear
to beat more quickly. He came swift,
to where she stood, trembling, irresolutl
care you not glad to see mer he All
ed. His face was strangely white. thousl
. not more so than her own. and his voic
was thin.
/ "Alanw she cried, starting forward o.
! | heart throb, and then drawing bacl
"But you are dead! They buried 70,
six-seven days agow
Il am not dead" he said in low voice
81 am alive, and you see me. Are 20
q gladY
She passed her hand vaguely across he
: forehead, puzzled.
@ ''But you did die" she repeated In he
shadowy monotone. "You were throw
q from your horse-don't you remember7 :
She shuddered.
"And you placed flowers in the cofir
the roses you love, from your garden
K They were pale roses" He spoke a
n most as to himself as he walked sound
lessly by her side. She turned towar
> him.
"Tell me the meaning of 1t, Alan!
4 She stretched forth her hands to touc
him, but he quickly drew away.
"The time is not yet" he said.
: "Are you deadF' she asked, her eye
glistening.
d my body lies in Hildon churchyar
covered with moist earth, and there ar
. flowers planted on my grave-white rose
in the black mold. And live"
: "And where are you and what do 70
do?"
81 am in the strange land" he said.
A transparent silence fell betwee
them. The next moment he had passe
from her view.
o With a quick. light step she ran almoi
to her home. They gazed in wondermen1
: it was as if she had been raised frol
the dead. Eagerly she explained. an
q their expressions changed.
She persisted in her statements.
"See!" she cried. "You will believe n
now. Here is his handkerchief; he droI
ped it, and picked it up"
!, In happy triumph she held out the ol
ject in her hand.
Good God!' said the gray haired c,
yate
q 1t was fallen leaf.
But afterward she saw him often an
many were the sweet conversations the
held. They had taken her away frol
- the white village to a great brown houi
where all treated her with a pitiful kin,
ness. and grave looking men asked ofte
after her health. Not unseldom her rel
). tives came to see her, and she would tai
- brightly to them Of Alan and laugh ha]
IL PLY. She could not understand why the
Is wept.-West End.
lr All Lives Are Interesting.
ID Not a blade of grass but has a story
s. tell not a heart but has its romance n,
life that does not hide a secret Whi<