Amador ledger., 1907-12-13

said gravely, ''and that is that love
blazes its own paths and cuts its own
channels. If it be written that you are
for me you will marry me in good
time. Love brooks no interference in
his realm
Her cheeks stormed into color as 1
helped her to her feet.
do you see this Lady Washington?
she demanded holding the pelargoni-
um before me. ''See, l lay it in the
hollow of this little big tree There is
dirt in the hollow, and the pelargoni-
I'm may grow. Coming again, 1 may
find that it has taken root. So may 1
become your wife. The one is as pos
sible as the other
So Muriel went back to the east with
her schemes of philanthropy, and 1
stayed in my west to dream and then
to write, but 1 found that dreaming
had grown to be weary task when
the most beauteous one of them all
was forbidden one, for 1 had lost
faith in my own brave avowal of loves
omnipotence.
Nearly a year had gone before 1
visited the Big Tree grove again. 1
went alone and took my solitary way
10 the river where l had said goodby
to my dream of dreams. A furious
storm had wrought some havoc there
Two or three of the lesser trees had
fallen, and the swinging bridge had
been twisted and broken and thrown
upon the bank while the swollen river
ragged angrily by it.
At last 1 turned away from my sad
retrospection. My eyes caught a
glimpse of blue in the distance, and
somehow 1 thought of Muriel's dress
as it looked on that other day when
she had not been kind But just then 1
was Joined by the guide, who was
quite friend of mine. He had discov-
cred new plant and was naturally
quite enthusiastic over it, so l went
into the inner grove to view the dis
covery. After l had left him still
had half hour before train time, so
I went back to the broken bridge
Again were my eyes caught by the
| glimpse of blue, and / saw that a wo-
man was kneeling before one of the
little big trees.
Each to her oak the bashful dryads
shrink" murmured. eff oaks could
have dryads, why not redwoodsT l
asked myself. But when she turned
her head and looked at me started to-
ward her.
"Muriel!" l cried, yet still half be-
lieving that it was beautiful vision.
! But she sprang to her feet. her white
face going pink and her tear wet eyes
holding a sweetness 1 had never seen
there before. She pointed toward the
hollow of the tree.
Look, Armand. the miracle of the
pelargonium!
| There, in the little sitting of dirt,
grew the Lady Washington, not very
sturdily, but still it had rooted and
was alive. Her words came back to
me:
"I might leave this flower here and,
coming again, find that it had taken
root. So might l become your wife.
The one is as possible as the otherr"
held out my arms. She hesitated,
and her color -deepened.
Don't think me bold. Armand. l
didn't come seeking you. My mother
is not well, and 1 came with her. I
came
you came because the love god sent
you, sweetheart" l finished for her.
''Now, come the rest of the way to the
arms which may never let you go
again"
| Shy in her love, pulsing with life,
glowing with happiness, she came to
me. My dream came true.
"The east and the west are met to-
gether," 1 said. "Now 1 think 1 can
write the book which will make the
world better"
Don't begin it just yet" she whis-
pered, with her soft cheek against
mine. Let the world wait till you
have loved me awhile"