The southern sentinel. (Winnfield, La.) 1883-1910, 1903-06-05
}. =, DOM tb,pki Il /. much hurt.

and the bird in her little brown hands
f1uttered in fear of them. Get down
Jack! 60 away Man," commanded
their master, and then carefully fol-
lowing her directions, he tied up his
victims wing.
"And now" she said. when that oper-
alton was finished, I'VE must find the
nest and put it in it. SO that nothing
will kill it in the night"
He thought it all over that night,
when he lay in his hammock out under
the stars. and again and again the ten
der face of the forest maid rose up in
his mind.
If he worked and waited for years
could she ever love him, he wondered :
He seemed to be SO brutal, when ne
contrasted himself with this little wild
thing; fit for nothing but money ge'-
ting and the world.
All the hidden poetry OF his NATURE
all that higher life. which 1t was lot
hidden him to live in the city, and whlcE
Drove him to these expeditions into the
woods. seemed to him PERSONNEL IN
the spirit he had this day found there.
Useless as the damming OF mlghty
waters, or the placing OF obstruc'lohs
! in the path of an avalanche are tue
obstacles we place in the way OF
dominating and strong willed nature.
They must either be destroyed or beno
before It. In time it came, slowly at
frst. for the reluctant heart does not
unfold it's sweetness to the sun, until
it is quite ready to bloom and II tha1
blooming be forced, like the hot-house
rose it withers all too soon.
II was a strange new life into which
she was carried. There was every
thing in it, that heart could wish for
and loving care provide and for time
he realized his dream OF perfect hap
niness. dreamed under the stars that
summer night. But she? Was this all
there was Of life, this endless round OF
days between walls? She longed for
her woods and dropped like her own
wild flowers when they are rudely
pulled from the shady haunts nature
intended them for, and placed in cul-
tivated garden.
He did not know how she pinned and
longed for the old life. for she loved
him. If that could be called love which
was in reality only the sweet echo Of
q deafening symphony. When the
spring came and h:-.a.ught back to her
memories of .li the pleasures that that
season used to bring. before a relent-
less .irand came and turned one of life's
pages, the longing ceased to be thing
that could be concealed, for a mind
diseased cannot long remain unad-
ministered to without impairing its
dwelling place.
"You are not well?" he would say.
and she would smile and answer, "that
she was tired-a littie-but that when
summer came she would be quite her
self again." And the summer came
and yet, although there were days,
when after long drives in the sunshine,
ale seemed to be once more as she had
been. still, to the eyes of love it was
all too plainly to be seen that she was
growing more frail and more lovely
every day.
ave must go to the mountains" he
said, "the doctor believes the balsam Of
the pines will give you strength And
% they settled themselves, like two
migratory birds, up among the pines
and hemlocks.
How like one of his old tramps this
was, he thought, as he returned at sum
set from long lonely ramble. and he
wished as he never wished for any
thing in his life before that he could
give to her some of the glorious
strength these woods filed him with.
He made his way to the large sunny
room, from which she seldom stirred
now, and entering found it filed with
the rosy light of sunset, streaming in
from the broad west windows and fall
ing in radiant cloud upon the little
couch drawn in front of them.
It fell upon the white face and gave
it back the look it wore when first he
saw her.
The nurse bent above her anxiously
and when he looked at her inquiringly.
she answered low, mot quite SO well
As yesterday, but she was pleased to
have you 60 for little walk and after
you were gone she slept for little
while"
Presently the large eyes opened and
were raised to the agonixed face, bend
ing over her. but they did not see him.
Suddenly she rose up, As though quite
strong, and stroking some imaginary
object in her hand she said sadly:
Poor little bird your wings are broken
and he was cruel to break them birdie.
but he did not mean to, and see, he will
try to fix them, but I-am-afraid-y
will-never-Ay-a-."