The Batesburg advocate. [volume] (Batesburg, S.C.) 1901-1911, 1905-03-03
His Ideal Sweet
heart.
By LOUIS J. STELLMAN.
copyrighted. 1o05, by Daily Story
Pub. COmn1nY.l

copyrighted. 1o05, by Daily Story
Pub. Company
We sat under the spreading shade of
live oak tree. FabcSte and l. Togeth-
or we had rambled through the forest
and the glade, seeing new things every
whcre-thingS that stretched out green
bn6ding shoots like hungry arms to
the shnShin" nn1 drank it in with in
Stinctivc. vital joy. To us it was all
strange. with 4 wild, unreal beauty
and delight. for we were OF the city,
where all things seem real, with
terrible familiarity. SO we had wand
,r"l T., king not Of time nor OF each
In'h"r: MY OF the birds and flowers
lnl he fairyland OF woodland spring.
1t was iJwn in the glade that we
r'>ted a. last under rhe live-oak tree
md =, membered ourselves again.
Hab:ite looked up as one just startled
ON i dream. To me she seemed a
lNadlymph. Her hair was loo5ed,
IN in it. she had woven tcndrils OF
!! wood and crowned it with wild
eboom. In her eyes dwelU the
itcherv OF the forest, of the stream
! nd ~ the spring time, OF the wom-
an an spTrrU, uuIiiled by cIementaI ma
turu's vibrant song.
Pet Nrru Bahettr ana there is a /
Iiow>hip, - li.ht and iiie and yc'
strong and wholesome il = ms i'm !
pIS Bile; most am justly pruud |
Il tniS rrli! lOnsh . rr have Great. !
ed it and fISirr"d and CON erv,d il ~
the triumph OF an arLiSt'S soul. Thus !
far my artist soul has triumphcd and |
8abbette remains TO me-a comrade
little sister, or what You will-that is
rarely fine and not a burden. Always
after the battle comes glow of vic
tory, of conscious strength, the stimu
lu' of mastery that delights my ar
lists soul.
But forget the glade and the live
oak tree.
''We are Babes of the Wood, sad
Babette. She wove wreath of some
red-fiowered vine and dcckcd my head
with it.
''IThere is no CITY, she cried; mo
smoky, noisesome place, with streets
and courts and rever-end.ng rows of
buildings shutting out the sun; where
people slave and crowd about and live
and die There are no people. We
dreamed it. didn't we, Boy?"
When Babctte grows serious am
fanciful at once, it is best to divert
her thoughts.
Little one,,' said I. with studied
irrelvance, you are fairy, with won
drous touSled hair and blue eyes that
are brighter than the sunshine over
there And when you laugh, there is
a dimple in YOUR cheek moe marvel
Gus than all else Col has made. Did
you know that. little one?"
She made mouth At m and p"'tcd
me with daiscS that grew thick about
her.
"What am l." SIC asked With intro.
Spection. and IL Sm.le half seriO Is. hdf
mocking, hovered for a moment on
her lips-"a sort of-perSon, with ep"S
and hair and a dimple, who mas To he
reminded Of them constantly. And is
, 'hay all?"
"You are, Babettc. said, imprcs
sively.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, with petu-
lance, "and who is thar"
The dearest little girl in The
world, l told her; with the spark
ling mind. the fireSt soul and the we'll
trained heart"
Babettc regarded me quiz caliy but
intently.
The well trained heart" sha re-
peated, as though il were new thco-
ry and required explanation "iloN
do you know? You've never made
love to me"
81 know a dozen that have tried it,"
/ answered, stcrnly, and you, you
permitted tor while. Tin ln@y
cease to amuSe, perhaps. And thea
II made an eXpr SSiye gesture.
"You ;, e, have been aIra d, end
ed
At this last Bubctte laughed rghl
merrily The accu.aiion she ign '"cd
for obvious reasons
Il have heard it said, she remark
ell in rebuttal, that you are lady
killer-anG have no heart at all"
But you didn' believe it, | said,
ecoro' 'achfully.