Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-09-21

aulSt HdQ HIS luhLTuCtlOHS, anu luiu0u over one page. Patrick saw that the girl meant to go straight through her granny's old song-book.
 "Ricn and rare were the gems she
 wore,
 Ant bright gold ring on her wand
 she bore"
 And so on, and so on, till the last verse was finished. and the singer curtsied and disappeared. L "Song," yelled some one from the back Mother song."
 Pinker than her flounced dress. smil- Ing and hesitating, Rosa again re turned, but the audience were not to be put of with . mere speech, or curtsy swept with antiQuated grace.
 What could she sing? She had sung all the songs in her granny's bound volume. She had nothing else-of the kind. She would curtsy again and go.
 She took the tormost founce of her gown between her fingers and swept her adorers a farewell.
 The coronet from her hair fell at her feet. Half mechanically she picked 1t up, and, despite the frantic audience. turned to go. One bud in the wreath the largest-came loose in her hand to inspire her at the last moment, and with half smile she ran to the pianist and threw a hasty whisper over his shoulder. He had no notes, but the brilliancy of his vamping was equal to this or any demand. A few crashing. effect i've chords, and then: ''The Last Rose | of Summer"
 Little witch! We'll indeed was she I playing her rart. For the old boy she had chosen the song of songs. With ineffable sadness she went on, plucking and letting fall one by one the pink petals.
 "No flower of her kindred, | No rosebud is nigh, | To reflect back her blushes, To give sigh for sigh"
 Patrick glanced at his grandfather. He was blowing hts nose with silent emotion, and the young man wondered whether he could see the little rose colored figure on the stage at all, so thick was the mist of tears in his eyes. l Triumphant indeed was her success. When she finished, the old boy stamped with his stick on the floor, and shout ed till Patrick grew almost ashamed of the attention he was attracting.
 Poor little girl! Poor little Rose! haven't heard anything like that since listened to the divine Jenny. What shame that such girl as that should be singing in such g place as this!"
 "It is indeed shame" Patrick trembled. He felt that this was the moment for him to tell his secret Grandfather" sail he, "I love that girl"
 The old boy did not grasp his mean ing.
 "I don't wonder" he said. ''I'm in love with her myself. Charming! Charming!"
 Bdt Patrick had made his plunge.
 "I am not speaking lightly" he said, eagerly. 'I know her. want to take her away from the stage and marry her."
 The old man began to understand.
 "The blazes you Go!" said he.
 "Yes." said Patrick, boldly. "She is the only woman in the world for me. She is a good girl. grandfather-and lady"
 "I am sure of that" the old man responded, heartily. No girl could have sung those songs with such true feeling and marvellous expression if she had not been a pearl among wom- en-a pearl, sir" Patrick was thunderstruck. twill you let me introduce you to herr" he asked. s ...-
 His grandfather beamed. Nothing , would give me greater pleasure" said he. lut yOun6 Hidu sduiSuCus Five minutes later, Rosa. to the out ward eyes all shyness and pretty re- spect, ran down the three steps to the left of the little glittering stage and ! curtsied to the old man.
 He bowed with old-fashioned grace , When I came here tonight" he said , gravely, "T little thought to have beer dazzled and enchanted by a visior from my happy youth" : T am glad you liked my songs," sh, 7 said. demurely.
 The old boy lifted her hand to hi, lips.
 s T have to thank you." he said. "fol the happiest and the saddcst evenin. . have spent in many years" H' s looked at Patrick and hesitated, bu only for moment.
 q hope" he said. courteously. "tha " the last rose of summer will soon b !. transplanted to a more congenia . soil." # 2 He turned abruptly and walke,
 slowly away from them down tn P empty room. Rosa looked up into he : lovers face. touched and softened Y Then, with q sudden impulse she tor {. the La France rose from the lace a n her breast and ran after the oil
 boy to touch his arm with a timil l. little hand.
 > This is the last rose of summer, l. said she. will you let me give 1t | r yUur