The Olneyville times. (Olneyville [Providence, R.I.]) 1887-1917, 1905-08-04
IA LII FOR Low

: lie was Dig Ghd prosperous LOOKING.
Perhaps the heavy cbinchllla OyercOat
with high collar turned up about his
ears 10 protect him from the stiff. salt
scented breeze lent him this air OF
prosperity. His blue eyes looked out
steadfastly. little sternly maybe, ar
the empty deck and the gray waste Of
waters. The other passengers were
singing and dancing in the cabin, but
George Reynolds found the society Of
the lowering sky and the lonely stretch
or waters more TO his taste
The tinkle Of a musical instrument
fell upon his ear. Was II the piano IN
the cabin speeding the feet OF the dane
ersi Not that The sound was wild
and plalntiyc and In keeping with the
storm threatening day. The English
man followed the strange music 10 its
source. Down among the steeragc pas
sengcrs young girl was drumming
a broken tambourine bedecked with
soiIcd ribbons. She sat little apart
from the rest, her head bent over the
instrument, which sobbed and sang
alternately beneath her touch.
A bent, witch-like crone saw the at
tentive attitude Of the English Intruder.
"Piay something gay for the gentle
man, Felicc," she whispered.
The girl lifted an oval face OF dark
perfection, swept laughing glance
from her slumbrous black eyes at the
young man, and the walling strain
changed to a barbarlc song Of adven-
ture and prowess, Of beauty and love.
She sang, too, in a low, subtle voice
with weird notes I'm It. The English
man did not understand the words.
but the mystic language OF youth and
hope and waiting love was tantalizing-
ly Ineligible.
He looked long at the dark, blrdlike
head, the slim, nervous, brown fingers,
the tawdry gypsy finery and listened to
the velyety contralto voice. He was
drunk with rapture. .,,
"Ah, But you do not know the Ian
gnage of the hills and the rivers and
the woods. Come with me md learn
them, my own. The smoke OF this
great city stiles me. Its roar makes
me deaf
AT night when you sleep I push
aside the curtains that may see the
moon, and she talks to me mysterious
ly, and think ! am in camp In the
mountain road where / smell the pine
trees and where the falling stream
sings to me. oh, dear one, must go
or die"
George Reynolds listened sadly to
the words OF his gypsy wife. He had
married her when they reached New
York. They lived In a pretty suburban
cottage. and he was engaged I'm
small but thriving business In the city.
His dream Of wlfe and home had
been realized, That of a competency
had almost taken form. The gypsy
girl was affectlonate. She was true.
but the barbarous instincts Of her an
cestors could not be wholly crushed. .,
Gifts and caresses no longer divert
cd her. She wept on his shoulders
each evening when he came home. She
craved the wild freedom Of her girl
hood life. She could not live without II.
"You are. used TO the factory and the
shop and the crowded street." she said.
'but they kill me- must go, but will
not YOU go, too, my husbandw
He lifted her arms gently from about
his neck and went out into the street.
For hours he walked about aimlessly.
He could not restrain her longing for
her DID, wandering life. He might be
n cruel jaller. but then she would learn
to bate him. II would be worse than
death to- see her turn from him In fear.
But the business and the home7 All
the instincts of his conservative an
cestors In trade rose In rebellion
against giving them up. When he un-
locked the door and stepped into the
little parlor he had not decided.
His wife had thrown herself upon the
sofa In passion of tears. Childllke.
she had cried herself to sleep. She
sighed, and her lips trembled ms her
sturdy, troubled husband looked down
upon her.
The struggle was over.
He kissed her forehead.
II will give up nil for you, Felice,"
he said
"The gypsy king Is dead" said the
dwellers In South San Francisco to
each other, and they went to the camp
to view the remains.
lie lay In coffin that looked strange
ly out OF place In the small tent. 1t
was rs elegant as that In which the
rich factory owner had been buried tho
week before. His features were calm
and strong. and his limbs must have
been very powerful In life. His gray
hair had still some golden threads In
it His skin was as fair rs an Infants.
''IIe is white man." whispered the
curiosity seekers and stole away 70
gossip about Il.
small dark woman, pretty still, al
though past her prime. wept broken
hcartedly over the coffin. "Come away,
mother. You must rest" said tall
young man who stood beside her. He
has blue eyes," whispered n girl who
was peepins into the tent. Whoever
heard Of blue eyed gypsy"
The funeral service was read next
day by an Episcopal clergyman In
robes. George Reynolds was an hon.
est man." he said, "a devoted husband
and father"
II was true. Was his sacrifice too
great1
Is the motto "All for love and the
world well lost more ignoble than
o.. IL. a - -. -.