The age-herald., 1899-07-23
THE MURMUR
 OF THE WORLD

The mockbird sang in a great oak, and only his breath stirred the leaves. The heart of midnight had no throb. Two hu- man hearts beat tumultously. The vines upon the trellis where the man and the maiden sat were gently rustled by the winged worshipers of the dark hours. Even the beetles of the night were without speech. Fhe two were voiceless for a space. Just above the brow of the mountain the crescent moon trembled. A far star glis- tered in the black line of the far sky. He looked at the glistering moon and the glis- tering star. He heard the rollicking notes of the mockbird in the ancient oak. The rustlng of the beetles of the night in the night vines called to him like the crack of doom. The tension was moving to him, moving profoundly. He listened, looked, yearned infinitely He turned to her. The beautffullest face man had ever yet looked upon in the roll of this planet lighted luminously the black darkness of the vi- brant night. Upon the perfectly poised head, lifted from its pure base of alabaster shoulders, there rested a black aureoIe- black and yet luminous, named of God to be superlatiyely and surpassingly beautiful Great brown eyes gave out liquid light in the blackness He looked and longed and yearned. Upon the arm of the great easy chair rested the beautifullest hand ever given woman to lead man in the world. At the hem of the white drapery thin to gos- samer, there dandled or dangled the beauti- fullest little foot that ever has yet carried woman to the altar as bride or the confess Sha ha1 ljuh+I and with marvellous grace the legs of a god dess. Upon the seat that rested her softly lay the shapeliest hand in all the world, and an arm barred above the elbow, in the carv- ing of which Phidias would have gloried
 There were silent tongues there whilst the two hearts were wildly beating. He didn't know. Man never does know till wo- mans soul bursts it's bounds. He was mad. She was madder still. There fell upon the night a chill. There fell upon the night a rustling, as if some spirit had cast its nov ing spell. She threw up her marvellous arms convulsively. He seemed to be trying to hold his soul within its prison of clay He was mad at last. What he had feared had come. His heart broke with the mighty convulsion of blind, unreasoning, unhappy love. Her white hands were lock- ed with desperate strength against her black hair. The chill of the night grew more chilly. He felt life slipping from him. Even the mockbird was silent, and the bee ties in the vines of the trelIis were still. He looked upon her, saw her lounging there lapguorously, the beautifulest wo- man ever kissed by the sun that kisses this planet His senses reeled as the senses of one stricken He reached out blindly, madly caught the beautifulest hand upon any planet that rolls in space; kissed 1t with loving wrath. He caught her bare arm of chiseled snow, and with loving wrath caressed it. The chill fell deeper upon the night. She looked at him with She shivered perceptibly.
 He touched her and she shook as one stricken of a great W'hirlwind. The hour of doom had struck, and her heart broke with mad, rsotous joy. ''The night is well
 spent,' she said, uncertainty. "The air grows chill. Come! it must be good night
 It is not well for two fools to rest here by the trel1is." You are chilled" he said. T have fagon of wine. Come with me-"
 Inside the doorway, few paces from the trellfs, were the mans apartments. He opened the door and entered. She fol- lowed. He heard the rustic of her gossa- mer garments, and, turning, called sharply
 "Go back! You must not come here" She