The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1911-07-06

stroll and as we passed the fallen
tree-trunk, which marked the place
of our first meeting, / paused. Ny
companion was standing near me
and drawing her to my side, /
told her why | found it SO hard to
leave her. She listened as / de-
clared my love for her, then frankly
admitted that her first thought must
be of her mother. If father was
only with her." she said, it would
be different, but she has no one but
me. / cannot leave her alone" She
laid her hands in mine, and in her
eyes ] read that the parting, to her,
was anything but easy.
Some few months later, strolled
into theatre in the city of c..
The play, The Queens Daughter -
was full of interest, but my thoughts
were far away. Ny eyes scarcely
noticed what was going on behind
the footlights. / saw instead the
little cottage in a far-off wooded
dell; heard the babble of the lazy
brook, or fancied / heard sweet
and childish voice singing some half
4 forgotten melody. My reverie was
suddenly ended by the beginning of
song. / turned in surprise, scarce
ly hearing the words, but devouring
the singer with my eager gaze.
} Surely / had heard that voice before.
. | hesitated a moment, then hurried
, behind the scenes. In answer to
) my request to see the singer, was
ushered into the presence of gen.
tleman whose kindly bearing inn
pressed me Immediately. / stated
the object of my visit, mentioning
! the incidents first related here.
) He heard me through with -in1reas=
5 the likeness of my young friends
r voice to that of his own, he immedi-
: ately confirmed my belief by ex-
!. claiming:
+ ''She is my daughter!''
e A bright spring day was drawing
8 to close as l alighled from the
d train at the little station of y
is My companion was overjoyed tt
r. think that his quest was nearly
d ended, for during the many years
e. he had never given up hope OF find
W ing his loyal wife. Silently ant
n. with haste we made our way alonl
N the seldom frequented road, whic
7 inallv lost itself in forest foot
m path. The windows of the littl
to cottage were dimly lighted and a
" the door opened in response to m
e. impatient knock, we noticed tha
nv the evening meal was in progress
ns There was no need for words, tn
- recognition was mutual, and m
companion was soon in the arms
res his wife and daughter.
nit By the freside of the little Woo
i'm land cottage, husband and wife s.
ed talking over the years gone by
glanced around the room, then fee
ed ing somewhat out of place, passt
RS quietly through the half-open do
In and out into the night. Once mo
,ch I trod the familiar by-path, not
all fancy. as in months gone by, b
,oh with the stars, like myriads OF til
me- lamps lighting my way, and the fu
Of bright moon casting long shade
ona ON either side. In the distance
ked heard the hoot of an owl, to be
she swered by the melancholy cry OF
- ,b;n-noo will. | went on unhet
inc ing. I paused again at the trunk
an the old familiar tree, where | l
: to suffered, loved and lost. The me
rub lay half hidden behind tiny clio
hat / felt light touch on my arm
ODDS and turning, beheld the girl low
ned standing beside me. Slowly | t.
She her in my arms and heard her brea
ex- her vows of love and fidelity.
had my reward in the love OF
he true-hearted girl. The passl
into cloud no longer obscured the m
we from our gaze. It's bright
hadv streamed down upon us. AS br1
: the as our FUTURE she said. And /
, ito ing her / breathed fervent PR
,nks that it might be SO.
len I
, re- The question of free will and
tear alism is an interminable argur
hnt indulged in by successful meT