The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1900-01-27

Wv "a tilu nDtlCeV, anu laUxn 0e.
murely over many a small joke.
Somehow, conversation dwindles until it
is gone. Terence sulks: Monica moons;
Kit ponders; the Misses Blake snooze; and
so at last home is reached.
CHAPTER NJ.
1t is ten O'clock, and as lovely a night as
ever %overhung the earth. The moon is at
as heaven itself, through which Dictynna's
unclouded grandeur rolls.
The Misses Blake, itigued by their nm.
usual dissipation, ord led an early rout an
hour agone, whereby bedroom candlesticks
were III demand at nine or half past nine
o'clock.
Now, in M%onica's room, Kit is standingb by
the open window, gazing in rapt admiration
at the dew-spangled garden beneath. Like
diamonds glitter the grass and the flowers
beneath the kiss Of the queen of night.
Moonbeams are playing in the roses, and
wrestling in the lilies, ard rocking to and
fro upon the bosom of the stream.
There Is a peace un%speakable OH all
around. One holds ones breath and feels
a longing painful in its intensity as one
drinks in the beauty of the earth and sky.
"Twere heaven to be assured of love on such
might as ILLS,
Stars make the vault above so fine that all
the world, methinks, should be in love with
night and pay no worship to the garisll sun.
There is a rush of feeling in the afr.-s
promise of better things to come,-of hone,
of glad desire, of sweet love perfected!
"llow lovely a night it isv' says Kit, lean
ing far ont of the window, and gazing west
ward. She is at heart n born artist, with a
mind, indeed, too full of strange, weird
thoughts at times to augur well for the hap
piness of her future. Like many of her Irish
race, she is dreamy, poetical, -intensc ut
M moment, gay, wild, impulsive the next.
See what a food of light there is on
everythin9!' she says, "Bnthed in moon
light" what a good thought was that!
Monica, when l am as old as you, in q very
few short years l shall be a poet"
NO, you won't, darling; you will be O
musician. See what fairies lie beneath your
fingers even now when you touch the plano
or violin; be content, then, with your great
gift, which most surely is yours. And to
ME, indeed, it seems a grander thing to thrill
n enchain and draw toyour feet all hearts
by the power of harmony that dwells with.
in you, than by the divine gift of song that
poets have
But t..eir songs are harmony" says the
child, turning quickly to her.
LAY, the Interpretation of it, but you have
Its very breath. No; search the world over,
and you will find nothing so powerful to
affect the souls OF all as music"
well some day shall want to do some
thing" says Kit, vaguely; and then she
turns to the window again, and lets her
mind wander and lose itself in a mute sonata
to the fair Isis throned above.
ttIt lro yyc D,u - cha coy-c procarfsy r;cino
slowly and addressing Monica, but always
with her gaze fixed upon the sleeping gar
den down below. ut is so bright,-so clear"
".'What Kit"
'The moonlight. must" restlessly, sgo
down into it for a little moment, or l shall
not sleep through longing for it,"
but the doors are closed, my dearest, and
Aunt Priscilla is in bed, and SO arc the SER
wants"
so much the better. l can draw the bolts
myself without being questioned. You said
Just now" gayly, Il have a fairy beneath
my fingers. l think l have a MONETARY in
my heart, because l love it So"
stay here with me, then, and worship it
sensibly from my window"
"NVlat! do you look for sense In moon
struck madness?' MOL shall go down to
My scented garden. l have a fancy l can-
not conquer to walk into that tiny flame.
white path of moonlight over there near the
hedge. Do you see it?'
YES. Well, go, If Titania calls you, but
! soon return, and bring me a lily,-1, too,
have a fancy, you see,-atall lily, fresh with
dew and m%Oonshine."
You shall have tho tallest, the prettiest ]
can lind, !" says Kit from the doorway, where
she stands framed unknOwingly, looking
c,,ah a claNIar af1nraa1 craatura 1yith ayou
too large for her small face. that Monica,
with a sudden pang of fear, goes swiftly ur
toher, and, pressing her to her heart, holds
Eer SO for a moment.
81 know whaty OH are thinking now says
Kit, with another laugh,-'tliat / shall die
early"
kit! Kltw
Eyes. Isn't it strange? l can read most
peoples thoughts. But be happy about me,
I look fragile, | know, but l shallno t die IN
iii l am quite a respectable age. Not a hid
eous age. you will understand, but with my
lair and teeth intact. One keeps ones hail
until forty: doesn't one?:'
II don't know. I'm no. forty" says Moni.
ca. but hurry, hurry ont of the garden,
because the dew is falling"
Down the dark staircase, through the
darker halls. into the brilliant moonlight,
goes Kit. The wind, soft as satin, plays
about her pretty brows and nestles through
her hair, rewarding itself thus for its en-
fore d quiet of an hour ago. Reveling in
the freedom she has gained, Kit enters the
garden and looks lovi:gly around upon heI
companions,-t flowers.
WHO would sleep when beauty such as
i this is flung broadcast Upon the Garth, wait
ing for man to feast his Slothful eyes up
on tt!
Lirgeringly. tendcr.y, Kit passes by each
slumberin. blossom, OF gazes into each
drowsy bell. until the moonlitpatch of grass
she had pointed ont to Monica is at last
reached. Here she stands in shadow, glanc
ing with coy delight at the fairy-land be
yond. Then she plunges into IT, and looks
a yeritablc fairy herself, slim, and tall, and
beautiful, and more than worthy Of the
wand she lacks.
Walking straight UP her silver path, she
goes to where the lilies grow, in a bed close
by the hedge. But, before she IN tt
them, she notes III the hedge itself a wild
coavolvulus, and just a little beyond it
wild dng-rose, parent o: all roses. She stays
TO pluck them, and then
Exit" says a voice subdued and low, but
SO distinct as to sound almost in her ear.
She starts, ard then looks eagerly around
her, but nothing can she see. Was it a hrt
man voice, or a call from that old land tina
held great Zcus for its king? A message
from Olympus it well might be, on such 6
night as this, when NIL things breathe of ole
%rilcliantment and of mystic lore. Almost
she fears yet hopes to see q sylvan deity
peep out at her from the escalonia yondcr
Dr from the white-aowcred swee.iy-perfull
ed syringa In that distant corner,-Pan the
musical, perhaps, with his sweet pipes, Or