Cochise review., 1900-09-19
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P A R A DI s E
By Eloise Jane Hufft. A
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(From the New Orleans Times Democrat.
 by Permission)

THE young mother had been into the
 dim shadows where Death and
 Life struggle, and win or lose, just at
 the happiest, sweetest, fullest hour which had been hers. when love took on a new and tender unselfishness, when its Hitting, dancing measures broke into the deep melody of an an- them. and, as she drifted back into the fight again, thus it was that she half wished and half prayed in her still childish way that Death would never take this woman-child of hers as long as Life held Happiness-that love of Life should be taliSman to stay the hand of Death.
 Thrice in the woman's threescore years Death had come to woo her from his brother Life out into the far be- yond, that unknown land, that here after which be called Paradise, and of which he spoke with wondrous elo- quence and great witchery.
 When first he came it was just at the dawn of day, just as the east was flush ing in the faint rays of the rising sun and the birds twittered in the trees, shod with silence he gided through the quiet halls and still hushed household among the watchers with wet faces and . .terror-touched eyes. All unseen though they looked for his coming he went in the gray of the spring morn ing into the sweet sanctity of the girls chamber. Pausing on the threshold, us if 10th to enter an unbidden guest. simplicity; noted, too. on the muslin draped dressing table a tiny silver frame. with the pictured face of a youth. an earnest. grave face; and Death smiled at the story it told But he went to the bed where she lay as one asleep, until she seemed to be already Deaths own. He stood beside her and looked with sad eyes and cold, impas- sive brow at the child who was his for the taking, and it was in tenderness and with love and pity surpassing the human that he gazed on the fair young face, like an untouched lily leaf, the unwritten brow, the sweet childish mouth. upon which the kisses of love had left neither song nor sigh, the slen- der little hands. so weak and fragile, and he stopped and touched her with his pulseless fingers as he said: My child. you are ready, you are willing 70 come with me? for l am your friend. and will give you eternal calm and peace, gift which human love and care cannot bestow. I will take you to a land where you will never lose your youth; will save you from Life. Look into the faces of the aged, my little maid, and read there of all that Life writes upon faces once as fresh and fair as yours; all that love entails; all that heightened years give to those who wait too long for me; the fever that is ambition; the delirium that is love: the chill that is regret; the ceaseless an- guish of sorrow and disappointment that aims the eyes fixed upon the things of this world"
 His voice had almost the wooing and the pleading of lover. as he saw in her awakened eyes the cloudless, un- troubled soul of child.
 From all this will save you. Come with me now before Life has taught you to yearn for me, for come not at your call, however sorrowing and loud"
 The girl gazed upon him with great wonder in her gentle. dove-like eyes: she quietly unclasped his hold and laid her fingers caressingly upon some faded roses on the bed beside her. and she said, as one repeats words of foreign tongue, all unlearned in their meaning: Regret, sorrow, disappointment what are these?"
 Death went on: Come, my child; come with me to Paradise, to the land where all is serenity. all is joy and pn- tent: where the days are all one as an other in their changeless. tranquil hap piness." And then. as Death became the more imperative, as he again touched her with his icy fingers. she looked across the room until she met the pictured face. and something like tirmness gathered and settled upon her childish features. "That is not Para disc of which you tell me-" Then she hesitated, but, looking straight and direct into the close, stern face of Death. little faint flush creeping into her cheeks and a sweet. unafraid wom- anliness growing upon her as she spoke: That is not Paradise. Para. disc is here. because John is here"
 And Death went his way with empty arms, and when she walked the watch. FITS said that she wandered still she was feverish and distraught. although 1er eyes were placid and clear and her voice even and sweet, for she said: No, will not go with you; Paradise is here."
 It was noon, still summer noon when Death came again. meeting, as he glided through the solemn quiet of the waiting. praying. desolate home. a man whose face was as pale and set AS Deaths own; whose eyes were heavy with unshed tears; children with a strange grief upon their hearts. But