The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1902-09-19
ROMANCE OF A ROSE.
BY ANNA sTAHL.

", -his. DioNli, MAVEN Nou Iooh loI
one more boarder!" cried Mrs. Newton,
busting out on the porch, with letter in
her hand. Hes a friend OF Mr.. Newton,
she continued, without pausing Mrs. New
ton was never known to wait for reply,
IAN architect from Chicago, who wishes TO
spend his vacation on a farm. A crazy idea,
isn't it-eNcept for people with children =
al she glanced at the little group on the
lawn.
Mrs Newton chartered on, but the young
woman seated on the step heard no more.
"a crazy idea," she said to herself; but
Ms. Brown is so kind to me-besides | can
not atford-anyway, l couldnt;--O, WE'LL
Sic resolutely brought herself back to cur
rent affairs, almost hoping to he bored as a
punishment for her lapse from her usual
sensible state of mind
What's his name?" Mrs. Brown was
saving.
"Adonram Strong, formidable one'
laughed Mrs. Newton But''-again the
girl was deaf to her voice. Names often set
he. to thinking. There was Il reason for it.
Besides, this was an unusual name. Laugh
alb formidable" to Mrs Newton AS
fo.. her, she liked the sound Cromwell and
Napoleon, puritan and knight, strength and
tel derness, force and faith, were in it.
Then, with a half cynical smile, she said to
he.self, "a misnomer, probably
Airs. Newton returned to the parlor and
Ms. Brown went on with her work The
gin still sat on the step, looking across the
fe d of corn to the blue of the little Wiscon-
siE lake.
dor years her home had been in the city
H.w She loved to recall those childhood
da !s! She loved to think of her father,
ST. ong, honest John Budd, and of her
me ther, the irail, clinging creature whom
he. father had regarded as finer clay than
hir iself' and had cared for SO tenderly; the
draining, sentimental little woman who
ga re her baby the name Rose, because Rose
Brdd would be such Il sweet name. SO it
might have been-for her mother. But for
he:! She never for moment doubted that
she was plain. Certainly she was not of the
ro.ebud variety. She was tall-and angu
lar, too, she feared. Her complexion was
sti OF gypsy BROWNIES Her hair was SO
st,aight. Her hands were neither small nor
WI lite. Her dark brown eyes were beau
it'll, but she did not know that and had
shi. been told would only have said, one
swallow does not make Il SUMNER
.Adoniram Strong remained forgotten I'M
til one afternoon, few days later. when
She walked into the parlor and found there
win. Nj. Newton stranger, who was in
tre duced as MIR. Strong" Rose noticed
that she did not have to look up into his
eyts--but then she was tall. What beau
tiEl blue eyes they We're! The light brown
HAIR had been smoothly brushed, but had
crcpt loose about the temples in bewitching
ringlets. The delicate fair complexion and
TIN, curve of the mouth might have been
the envy of any girl. Rose noticed enc le-
derming feature-the firm chin, which
seemed, she thought, cut of keeping with
that girliSh loneliness. She sat opposite him
at supper She wished she could forget
their names-she did so want to laugh.
''He is Adoniram Strong" she thought,
"and am Rose Budd!"
Weeks passed. These two learned many
things about each other. She learned that
his appearance was his cross. The hair was
painfully brushed into obedient sickness,
but the moment one lock was ruffied up it
would obstinately curl. Sun and wind We're
courted but the result was distressing
red instead of the coveted brown. She
learned that the grlish prettnesS, rather
than the strong chin, was out of keeping.
He learned that not only her eyes but her
brown complexion and her soft hair were
beautiful; that her nose was not too large
to betoken ability, and her other features
we're not bad; that she was well educlted;
that the world of books was hers; that she
was tenderhearted; that she was so witty
as to make him look to his laurels-and it
was seldom he found any one who could
meet and parry his keen wit.
Then came the fourth of July The day
was too warm for demonstrative patriotism
Strong said In the afternoon, however, his
pntriotic feelings demanded drive. with
Miss Budd as companion. The hired man
was celebrating in the town. and perhaps
Strong did not use his customary "jedg-
ment'' regarding horses. The one selected
was rather excitable for fourth of July
drive There was the ubiquitous small boy
with frecrackers, and it may be there was
careless driving No one could tell just how
it happened. \ cannon cracker, fright
ened horse, Il lost rein, a dash over stone
and the driver hurled from the buggy. The
Young lady did the sensible thing of course
although she did not know what she was
doing She staid in the vehicle in some way
caught the reins. and stopped the running
horse by turning him into fence. A
splintered board scratched her face and
gashed her shoulder. The men who came tc
her aid thought her badly hurt. She hur
ried from them and ran crying along the
road, back to where she had seen him fall
unmindful of blood and pain. He had beer
carried into "a house. He lay white and
still She knelt beside him.
Dearest she cried, again and again
'speak to me. Look at me. 1t is |. your
Rose" She rubbed the hands, and brushed
the dust from the curls. and kissed the face
all the while begging him to speak to her
The doctor came. Don't fret he said
"hell be all right i'll few minutes She
could not believe it; but soon he opened his
eyes Then he sat up and saw her-duSty
disheveled. bloody. You are hurt, hs
gasped. What had she been saying. She
was angry with herself, with every one
most of all with him. mo" she said scorn
fully, I'm not hurt. But you tainted
didn't you? Well take you home, and let
you lie on the sofa!"
To tell the truth, he had not merely
tainted. But he was not badly hurt liz
recovered. She almost wished he woult
not-she felt so mortified. How silly she
had acted She was Just sure some one
would tell-probably that fat old doctor
4 ,v,s StrnnU's las doy at the farm How