The Aberdeen weekly. [volume] (Aberdeen, Miss.) 1878-1933, 1911-05-19

sad and worried expression Of Iu
mas beautiful face. The fathOm-
less depths of her liquid blue
ewes seemed an ocean of pathOs
and dreamy sentiment. Poets ana
utopian philosophers have faint
ly dreamed of such face, and
vainly have they attempted its
description. More personal beaut,
was never moulded into one
form. never was the beau ideal
so nearly approached, yet sur
passed, by the real. The heart
saddens as the pen traces the
curiOusly chequered and melan-
choly career of this child of is
oiation and dream life.
Mother" said luna, Mother,
in my sleep | have dreamed of
the far OFF land on the other
side of the great waters, where
the inhabitants are all white l
have pondered, if in that land
there were people the color of
the Zunians, and If 50, whether
the white race inter-marry with
them. Tell me mother if they ev-
or did?
Colindrina, surprised looked on
the saddened expression of her
face, and enquired why she ask
ed the question.
Mother / love- answered
the artless girl.
Love Whom? What Zu-
MAN youth has won the heart of
my daughter?
Mother, couldst thou love -
Couldst thou wed a red MANI"
have never analyzed my
feelings on that subject, answer
ed the mother.
But / have, replied luna,
and my delicacy, or some feel
ing IN my nature, by whatever,
name called revolts at the idea
Alas, | feel mine to be a hard,
and cruel fate; to be doomed to
love a being with whom | can
never hope to meet on earth.
From my earliest infancy al
most every word thou hast spok-
en- In my presence of that dis
tant home from which the cruel
sesa drifed thee, has been pre-
served like sands of gold in my
memory. Thy description of the
high civilization of the people
who inhabit that land has left
the impression on my mind, that
the white is a distinct and sup
erior race of human beings. /
feel impressed still more with
the truth of that conclusion,
whenever l lock upon my father,
or thee, or my brother. When,
in the unruffled pool or stilled
stream, l see my own features in
its clear depths, my color and
ljneaments distinguish me from
the red race by whom | am sur
rounded, and l feel that l can
never be united to one of them.
But lin dreams the image one of
my own race and color, comes
nightly across the great waters,
and pours out his soul in love,
to me. When the sunsets. and
clouds assume fantastic shapes,
the beautiful white ones melt in
to his loved image. Every optical
illuion that misty twilight con-
jures up, is reflex of him. Tell
me, mother, if this is love?
MY Child" answered Colin
drina, 'thy affections are fixed
upon an idol reared in fancy
and wOrshipped in Dreams
Love true love, is a reality, and
is nonrished by something real !;
ideal passion, feeds on dreams,
and perishes with its own food
food, abundant enough that first
surfeits and then sickens, and
families its unfortunate possess
orr
Thou hast often told me. mo-
ther, that thy guardian and pro-
tecfOr was accustomed to utter
the sentiments, that the golden
chain of love was wrought in
the bright palaces of the sun. to
unite together two congenial
hearts; that, for every two con
genial hearts created, there wa.
one chain wrought; and that nc
two human beings could really
love. unless united by the chair
expressly wrought for them My
own experience proves the truth
of the sentiment; for when ..
sleep, / am in the land Of poe.
try and love. and then my loved
one comes to me in the dream
world, bearing = golden chain
One end Of the chain II fasten.
ed to his nobly pulsing heart,