The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1900-10-28
Eve. Whom | Met in Paradise.
You are in my fathers garden sh


You are in my fathers garden she
And LII
! you are 4 tresspasser'
But she smiled as she said it, a smile
| that showed two rows of pearl, spark
| ling in the sunlight that dapplsd her
face.
And your" I said. 1 know not what
said. but soon I asked her name, and
she told me it was Eve.
And this is Paradise I answered.
looking through the leaves of the old
apple tree al all the beauties OF the gar
den.
Then we talked. OF what? Of every
thing. OF solitude, of friendship, OF
books; fear. of Canada-and of love.
Then she babe me go, and l could not.
Nor would 1 if l could; and when at
length I obeyed her and was about TO
go, she babe me stay.
So l stayed, and soon had moored my
canoe upon her lawn. / cannot tell how
1 of all men-modest almost 10 bash
fulness-eould have done so. but l did.
OF the flowers that grew there by
the waters edge 1 made her a crown,
and this l put upon her tangled golden
hair. She was my queen there and
thenceforth forever; and so told her,
the poets aiding me.
Two roses that 1 had not seen before
bloomed on her face, and she ran away,
light-footed and 1.-the of limb, over the
lawn into her fathers house.
But I could not leave; could noti
looked for her, but she did not come.
Once 1 saw the curtains of window
drawn aside and her face peerng out up
on me. but she would not come again.
Well, I stayed, that was all. How
had he INN 10 do 7 all
but l could not go.
She was a long while indoors. / hea d
her at the piano. l knew it was her
touch, though l had never heard her be-
fore, bat l was confident ii was she.
Besides, now and then the piano stopped
suddenly, and / saw by the movement
of the window curtains that she was
peeping to see whether I had gone.
AT last I grew ashamed of my intru-
sion and, stopping from under the fruit
covered branches of the old apple tree, I
went 10 my canoe. unfastened its moor
ings, and was about to withdraw.
But, as luck would have it, just as
was about to get into the canoe, she
came out to me across the lawn. Her
gesture to me was that 1 must 60 I
said what l felt, regardless of all order,
of all propriety. Eve" l said, pas
sionately, you do not know me, nor
who l am, nor I you; but l know this,
that I love you. Yes, l love you. and
shall love you forever. Your heart IS
my Eden Do not shut the gates of this,
my earthly paradise. l must, must see
you again, and 1 Will Say that 1 may"
She looked down and blushed.
May II" 1 faltered.
She did not reply. But her silence was
a better answer than words
"When?"
Tomorrow"
She looked so pretty when she said it
that 1 was about to dare yet more
had the temerity to formulate the idea
that 1 would take her in my arms and
steal from her lips kiss, when l heard
a shout
"Hullo, old chap! Is that your"
I looked up.
What, Fry?" I cried. rs it Fry? 1t
Is, by all that's wonderful
I'm awfuly sorry, my dear chap, that
I couldn't join you on the river today.
uncivil you must have
thought me- But l didn't know you
knew my sister"
He looked at her and he looked at me.
! think we were both blushing.
But you do know. each other, don't
your lie said. for we both looked so
a wkward that he seemed to think that
he had made some faux pas.
20, yes.' l said, I'VE know each 9TH
err and I stole a look at Eve. The
glance she gave me was a grateful one.
Three months afterward there was a
river wedding, and, as we were rowed
away from church in a galley manned
by four oarsmen, and I handed her out
of the canopied boat on to her fathers
lawn, the wedding bells rang out mer-
rily, for Eve and I were man and wife,
and I gave her a husbands kiss under
the old apple tree.