St. Landry clarion. (Opelousas, La.) 1890-1921, 1901-06-01
THE MOUNTAIN MAID.
Ry ISABEL sMITHsoN-

Rsprintea, by Permission from Town and
Country-D
Don't you think SOP repeated
Jack, sitting up and leaning on his
elbow grunted assent and pretend
ed to fall asleep.
/ was 15 years older than Jack and
had promised to be his guide, philoso-
pher and friend. His mother was par
tieularly anxious that during our
tramp in the mountains, he should
see nothing at all in the shape Of a
woman, and think of nothing more
exciting than fishing and photogra-
phy. He had been deeply interested
in q city belle the winter before, and
she had given him the mitten in such
q cruel, calculating way, that he was
not the same man for months after.
It was early morning and we had
thrown ourselves down on grassy
ledge, after a steep climb up the
mountain side, and were preparing
to rest, when my young brother-in-
law had caught sight Of a female fig
ure, standing perfectly motionless nm
der a hemlock tree We were too far
to distinguish many details, but could
see that the woman was Young and
slender, was clad in pale lilac and was
looking down the steep roadway.
The wooded hill made a good back
ground, the girls attitude expressed
anxious expectation and her pose was
certainly graceful and unstudied.
Jack asserted that she made a picture
worth painting, and then finding that
/ did not assent with enthusiasm, he
left me to my nap and went a little
nearer to the picture.
I must have fallen into a genuine
dose, for the next thing I knew, Jack
was sitting beside me again, breath
less and excited, as if just returning
from tour Of discovery. I glanced
across the gorge; the female figure
was noslonger to be seen.
Have you been over there?" I
asked, and he Nodded. His blue eyes
were dancing with delight.
Such facer' he cried; "sueh
hair, such coloringi / was quite near
her before she dreamed Of my exist
enee, and when she saw me she gave
q little gasp and fled like a deer.
There's not a house within ten miles,
except a miserable little cabin, only
one story, down there by the brook,
50 that must be her home. Just to
think Of that lovely creature living
in these Wilds! Why, Will, if she
were properly dressed, she would look
as well as the greatest lady in the
and
When he stopped for breath, ] has
'ened to refer cynlcally to the favor
tie heroines of magazine fiction
hose phenomenal creatures who, born
md reared in an atmosphere Of squal-
IF and illiteracy, to say the least,
leEelop all manner Of delicate femi-
line graces when the handsome young
3ourlst comes along, and who usually
lie Of love for him, or from a sense
# duty, on the last page of the story.
# he thought to have the girl in
he lilac gown as the central figure in
lis views, he was sadly disappointed,
or she seemed to guess his intention
nd to be possessed of a wild terror at
light Of the camera. When he had
made several futile attempts to sur
rise her at distance, we decided to
trike camp, as it were, and stroll over
0 the little cabin in search of dim
er. Jack went first and | followed. J
AS / walked, | made up my mind
hat # a closer acquaintance withthe
laid of the mountain did not serve
D dispel his delusion, | would tele-
raph to his mother. We came, we
aw, but We did not conquer. The
Dung woman was looking down the !
oad again, with her hand shading her +
yes, and her ragged sleeve falling
aek from her shapely arm. The arm,
oWeYeF, was decidedly sunburned;;s )
er hair was coiled up in a slovenly {
ay, and held By two pointed twigs;;
id her eyes were fine, I could not
eny that. We had hardly time to Is
Ike in these details when she saw
coming, and, hurrying into the lit ]
: cabin, shut the door, with q very j
ecided Slam. 1t