Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1903-06-11


looked down on the town. There was
not much to see there-croOked, mud
dy streets, about a half dozen small
stores, a few pretty cottages, and a
great many more ugly ones, tumble
down church, and a new white school
house that looked altogether too mod
ern for it's surroundings; it seemed a
climb the hills, and look down at this
town, when one could stay so much
more comfortably in ones house and
look upon the hills.
| But when one looked over the town
ah, then there was feeling of free
dom from the ugly everyday things
of life, for the hills were tall and
green and mysterious heaps
thrown up by some mighty CONFUSION
OF nature long ago. Here and there
groups of stately cedars, spiked with
amber timber or laden with blush
green berries, delighted the weary
eyes, and far away, beyond the low,
muddy bar, where the cotton stalks
stood, brown and ugly and lop-
purple water now sparkling in golden
sunlight-sometimes only marked by
wall of silvery white mist.
Charline loved to look at the river
and the hills. In all her young life
they had taught her more than she
had learned in the rickety old church
which perched high and forlornly on
the side of caving bank, with yell
low-sp1Otched walls, on which genera
lions of bad boys had scrubbed, and
where minister, the man she had
promised to marry, came once a
month to rant about the flames of hell
which were always ready to swallow
up the ungodly who danced and
laughed and made merry.
| Charlfne shuddered as she thought
of him, but he was only man, and
what were men after all? Men had
built the little town yonder, and God
had made the hills-the beautiful,
useless hills, and the beautiful, useless
daisies, which grew in patches on the
hillsides and smiled up at one like
baby eyes. Yet, the preacher had said
only last Sunday that useless beauty
and outward adornment were marks
Of the beast" and babe the women
cast off their rings and trinkets. No
rings shown on Charline's brown
hands. One would be there soon
enough, she thought, which would
mean almost servitude to her, and yet
when she looked at it. it would almost
whisper to her Of a secrifice for love
which would help her to bear it, for
she could never hope Their to sail
away on the broad river to the world
lof which she had dreamed. She could
never again close her eyes beneath
the cedars in the rapture of loves en-
lbrace.
1t had been autumn then, and the
valley between the hills had lain like
a yellow ribbon and tue grass was sift
and dead, and the hills had risen
north and south, mantled with pur-
ping grapes and wreathed with the
soft mist of Indian summer. Only at
sunset the mist had cleared away, and
there had been roses in the sky, and
roses on her soft brown cheeks, as he
had come lightly over the dead grass,
and wakened her soul with his kiss.
She knew now it was only an idle
dream, and that he had kissed her
mot because he loved her, but because
he loved her lightly, and that the
lpastime Of an idle hour had separated
him from the woman he loved-the
rich, fair, kindly girl who had always
i seemed like some princess to Char
line. But she would show them how
cruel the gossips had been; it should
not cost him dear, even though now
he sought her side no more. All her
jWomanhood in pride called out to her
to show him that she did not care
All the woman's tenderness pleaded to
protect him from the consequences of
his own folly. AS she sat in the shade
of the cedars, and looked down at the