Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1903-12-04
THE VERMONT PHOENIX, BRATTLEBORO FRIDAY, DECENT
THE THREE LOYAL COMRADES.

1.-THE following is a translation for The
! outlook New York; of story by Car
men sylvia" which is the pseudonym
used by the Queen OF Roumanla, who
has published under this name many
charming and delicately written tales,
poems and novelties.
Sorrow was "A slender, beautiful child
with mass Of rich black hair framing
her pale face. Her delicate lips were
, usually pressed together, her dark eyes
so appealing that no one could look into
them without tears The poor child had
no home and wandered from place to
| place, now entering the cottages of the
poor, now taking up her abode in the
mansions of the rich She was so quiet.
so unassumng, that no one turned her
aside; but, strange to say, to all who be-
| friended her there came some deep af-
| fiction one was bereft of his only
child, another lost his rank, another was
despoiled of house and land, another was
unjustly prosecuted by his enemies still
another was cruelty il-treated by his
family The people marveled why so
much suffering should come to them, and
knew not that they themselves had
opened the door for pale, quiet Sorrow,
and taken her to their hearts.
Sometimes the poor child revisited
places where she had once been, and
learned of all the misery that had fol-
lowed in her footsteps. After that she
avoided for a long time the homes that
had suffered most. And yet she learned
to love some families very dearly, and
could not fOrbear returning to them.
But grief upon grief would come to them
until the poor, lonely child took up her
wanderings again with sad eyes and a
heavy heart. Quietly she went her way,
without haste, without connection, yet
swifter than the mountain torrent,
swifter than the west wind, and not one
home escaped her The greatest catas-
trophe befell when she mingled with the
children, for then they were orphaned,
or were stricken with an incurable mall
ady. so that their little faces became as
pale as that of Sorrow herself, and their
eyes held the same pleading, pathetic
look. When Sorrow saw this. she wept
bitterly. and for a long time stunned the
society of children, yea even turned aside
her head when she passed them in their
play
One morning. while resting under an
apple tree, she noticed what bright. rosy
checks the apples had. and how it did
the heart good just to look at them.
" oh. dear Appe-Tree," cried Sorrow,
give me nice rosy cheeks like your APP
pies. then all will love to behold me-"
" Not So answered the Appe-Tree
Hadst thou bright rosy cheeks thou
wouldst no longer be so kindly welcomed
and cared for
Sorrow arose saddened, and went on
her way. Soon she came to brook rip
ping through a garden. From its banks
burst forth a chorus of bird music, so
gladstone that the heart laughed of itself
to hear.
Oh, dear little birds" cried Sorrow.
- teach me your sweet songs. that l may
gladden. the hearts Of all people
No, no, dear child" chirped the
birds, for didst thou not come and go
ca, LOTT han 10
forgotten, and all would know thee as
Sorrow, the bearer OF grief and woe"
So on and on went poor little Sorrow
until she reached great forest. The
fragrance Of the pine-trees filled the air,
and her weary feet sank softly in the
thick moss that carpeted the ground.
Here and there the golden sunbeams
found their way through the whispering
foliage, and cleaning. danced on the
green moss turning the fallen leaves to
gold. 1t was so quiet so beautiful! Sor-
! row leaned wcarily against a tree and
whispered Here | may rest and bring
no woe: here no one will greve because
of me-" Just then a frolicsome sun
beam, more venturesome than the rest,
slipped through the quivering foliage
overhead looked into the wonderful dark
eyes, so sad, SO lonely and pierced
straight to the very heart of Sorrow.
The whole forset saw the wonderful glow
that TRANSPORTED the delicate face of the
maiden, and whispered and rustled with
joy and admiration. But Sorrow knew
not how beautiful she had become she
felt only the sunbeam pulsating warm in
her heart.
oh, beloved forest" she cried. from
all your sunheams give me tiny one for
my own; make me happy, so happy
Rut at her words Stiffness as of death
fell on the forest. sadly the trees looked
at one another not a leaf uuiVered; and
the Sunbeam swiftly withdrew from Sor
rows heart, touched the back of a creep
ing wood-liZard at her feet. and tremb-
lingly concealed himself behind spread
ing fern on the edge of a pool.
Poor. poor child!' at last said an old
oak-tree. knowest thou not that one
tiny sunbeam in thy heart would make
thee so beautiful that all would run to
welcome thee. and then they would suffer
more than now-far beyond their en-