The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1900-01-30

Iuitp neloupeu TO me. NOW l saw he
was no, mine But he was still as
beautiful His brown eyes are more
iful than any ones eyes, except
yours.
AT last they turned to go, and l
walked after them. When they got
into a phaeton and stood for moment,
with his foot on the step, talking to
them. He had a little cane in his hand.
and an Italian greyhound ran after
him. Just when they drove away one
of the ladies dropped her whip.
"'Pick it up. fellow she said. and
when brought it to her she threw six
pence on the ground. might have
gone back to the garden then. But
did not want music. wanted clothes
and to be fashionable and fine. felt
that my hands were coarse and that
was vulgar l never tried to see him
again. staid in my situation four
months after that, but was not hap
Ply. had no rest. The people about
me pressed on me and made me dis
satisfied. could not forget them.
Only one day something made me
happy. A nurse came to the store with
a little girl belonging to one of our
clerks. While the maid went into the
Office to give message to it's father
the little child stood looking at me.
Presently she came close to me and
pecped up into my face.
".Nice curls. pretty curls.' she said.
L like curis.'
SHE felt my hair all over with her
little hands. When put out my arm.
she let me take her and sit her on my
knee. She kissed me with her soft
mouth. We We're happy till the nurse
girl came and shook her and asked her
If she was not ashamed to sit on the
knee of that strange man. But do
not think my little one minded. She
laughed at me as she went out.
IF the world was all children. l
could like it. but men and women draw
me SO strangely and then press me
away till am in agony. l was not
meant to live among people. Perhaps
some day. when am grown older,
will be able to go and live among them
and bushes. without letting them dis
turb me and take myself from me. but
not now. So l grew miserable. A kind
of fever seemed to eat me! could not
rest or read or think. so came back
here. knew you were not here. but
it seemed as though should be nearer
you. and it is you l want. you that the
other people suggest to me. but cannot
give"
ut has been delightful journey.
this journey home. have walked on
foot. The evening before last. when 1t
was just sunset, was little footsore
and thirsty and went out of the road to
look for water. | went down into a
deep little 'kloof.' Some trees ran along
the bottom. and thought should find
water there. The sun had quite set
| very still. Not a leaf was stirring
anywhere. In the bed of the noun
tain torrent thought might and Wa
ter. came to the bank and leaped
down into the dry bed. The door on
which stood was OF fine white sand.
and the banks rose on every side like
| the walls of room. Above there was
precipice of rocks. and tiny stream
of water oozed from them and fell
slowly on to the fiat stone below. Each
drop you could hear fall like little
silver bell. There was one among the
trees on the bank that stood cut out
against the white sky. All the other
| trees were silent, but this one shook
and trembled against the sky. Every
thing else was still. but those leaves
were Quivering, quiyering. l stood on
the sand. could not so away. When
it was quite dark and the stars had
come. crept out. Does it seem strange
to you that it should have made me SO
happy? 1t is because cannot tell
you how near felt to things that we
cannot see, but we always feel. To
night has been a wild. stormy night.
have been walking across the plain for
hours in the dark. have liked the
4 wind, because l have seemed forcing
my way through to you. l knew you
were not here. but would hear Of
you. When used to sit on the trans
port wagon half sleeping, l used to
start awake because your hands were
on me. In my lodgings many nights
have blown the light out and sat in
the dark that might see your face
start out more distinctly. Sometimes
it was the little girls face who used
to come to me behind the 'kopje' when
l minded sheep and sit by me in her
blue pinafore. Sometimes 1t was the
elder. l love both. am very help
less shall never do anything. but
you will work. and will take your
work for mine. Sometimes such a
sudden gladness seizes me when l re-
member that somewhere in the world
you are living and working. You are
my very own. Nothing else is my own
So When have finished, ! am going
to look at your room door
He wrote, and the wind, which had
spela it's fury, moaned round and
round the house, most like a tired child
weary with crying.
EN- woke up and sat before the fire,
rubbing her eyes and listening as it