The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1908-12-04
THE SEA AND
THE ROSES
By GEORGE AUSTIN BARNES
Copyright, by Shortstory Pub. Coz

l. cOulu see IlldI the ydIu was Hll0u
with them and the little cottage
facing the sea almost hidden with
their wealth of color.
Thinking that the owner would
not object to my gathering a small
bunch from such an abundance, |
was proceeding to do so, when, from
behind bush, little old lady APP
peared, her refined face delicately
pink from her exertions, looking as
sweet as one of the roses among
which she was working.
"Please don't pick Them" she
said, coming forward a few steps.
Don't think Pm selfish, but they're
Dedie's, and l can't let anyone else
have them," and with implicit faith
in my obedience to her request, she
returned to her work.
For few minutes I stood and
watched her deity loosening the
earth around the roots of a young
rose-bush, and then, with the guilt OF
child discovered. in some wrong
doing, | laid the few roses / had
plucked upon the wall, and going
back to the cart drove to my friends
house, where [ was visiting.
A few days later, while we were
passing the garden with its rose-cov-
cred wall, the sweet old lady ap-
peared from among the bushes, her
arms full of cut roses, which she
pressed against her breast.
To my friends greeting she re-
piled with pleased light of recog-
milton in her eyes.
"Who is she?" l asked, when we
had passed out of hearing; and |
told the episode of yesterday.
My friend did not answer for a
few moments.
Oilers is a sad story. Years ago
she came here, bride, to spend her
HONEYMOON in the little cottage,
which belonged to her husband. They
were wealthy, and the weeks slipped
by until fall, when they returned to
their city home; but she loved the
place so that every summer they re-
turned here to spend few weeks in
the country, within sight of the sea.
And here, one July morning, when
the roses she had trained over her
windows were hanging heavy with
dew, little girl came to bless the
| household. The husband, going to
the open window, plucked great
spray of roses, and placing them on
a stand by the bedside, said, This
shall be her luck flower And he
kissed the babe and the young moth
er. They named the child Edith,
but she always called herself 'Dedie.'
"When the lady appeared among
us the second summer after, she was
accompanied only by her baby; and
instead of the beautiful gowns that
had been her husbands delight, she
wore a widows dress, and her dear
face was haggard with grief.
''The child had grown into little
lisping tot, who followed her mother
about the house and garden, which
was the widows great solace, and
| where she spent most of her time,
| only going each day to the high cliff,
from which she and her husband
used to watch the sun set across the
ocean and the beach where they had
| walked in the moonlight, two mar
ried lovers.
''The flowers that had graced the
baby's entry into the world seemed
to have possessed some occult charm,
for never was anyone more fond of
roses than this child. She always
carried bouquet in her chubby
hand, or wore a spray pinned on to
her little pinafore, and if, by chance.
she dropped one, she always stopped
to pick it up.
''She was strange child, too, with
little unchildish notions and fancies
that oppressed one with a feeling of
eeriness. The ocean fascinated her,
and ofttimes at night, when it roared
upon the rocky headland, she would
awaken her mother and saw,
Mamma, why does the sea want me i?
Why does it keep calling to me?' Or
she would sit for hours on the sand,
laughing and talking to the little
waves and ripples that ran up the
beach.
Zone evening her mother tied a
little hood over her curls, and to.
! gether they went down to the head.
land, as was their custom, the child
carrying big spray of jacqueminots
A strong wind was blowing out tc.
sea, and the mother shielded the
child in. front of her. They hac
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