The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1912-01-13

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Genevieve and Genevieve went and
married another and was unhappy
almost ever after.
James, however, did not marry an
other. With the persistence of his
type in following program, he kept
on not telling girls he loved them.
And maybe he didn't Who can tell?
But now, after-well, after certain
number of years, Genevieve went back
home because she was widow and
could go back home, or away from
home, or to the wilds of the Fiji is
lands, or to the depths Of great cities,
and there was nobody to say her nay.
But Genevieve chose just to 60 back
horne. And back home was James.
James heard that Genevieve was
home again for while and he went
to cali, that being the proper thing for
old friends to do. Well. there was
Genevfeye. She was all alone, but
she didn't fret about it. She was not
so young, but she was extremely alive
and when James came to think II
over as he stroiled in the summer
moonlight, she was really much young
er.
Because Genevieve, In her youth,
had been q seriuus-minded young per-
son. And now she could laugh and
laugh-and her eyes laughed and
crinkled up at the corners, and her
hands were apt to grab the arm OF
the sympathetic bystander apd give
it little shake Of pure good fellow
ship. Genevieve was quantities more
fun, though, maybe, James was not
awake to it, than she had been when
she wore the apple blossoms and
dreamed strenuous dreams.
So James btrolled home i'm the
moonlight, tall and ever so good to
look at, manhood thrilling in him.
firm, white hands dug thoughtfully
into his pockets.
IT wonder" unused James.
James kept on calling and stroIlfng
home in the moonlight. and pretty
soon he stopped wondering and began
to hope. He had been loving for q
conSlderaDle period.
"Genevieve," said James, his voice
thrilling with that viol tone she loved
yes, and l have let the cat out Of
the bag now, haven't 1? Because
Genevieve-well, Genevieve was very
glad when James got ready to speak
about this.
They are happy-so happy that they
believe that nobody ever dreamed q
happiness so good as theirs. They
are saying nothing about not being
not so young-but not because they
are lodging the issue. in tenderness
for each other, as the stories whimper
about when they tell of mfddle-aged
lovers"-middle-age In sootht They
simply never think Of IT at all. They
are plenty young enough. Never a
debutante I'm her teens, never a col
legian in his twenties, with his eager
PARKWAY look, are any happier than
these two.
They say romance is of youth alone
that old age may have, perhaps. Its
dim reflection Of the earlier rose, but
that forty stands as bare to the com
monplace as the stripped branches OF
a tree, waiting midway between the
bourgeoning of the summer and the
glistening diamonds of the frost kings
crown-but don't you ever believe it
There isn't year in all the years
of our lives, there isn't minute Of
all that tinkle in a silvery shower
from the tiny clock upon your mantel
that isn't full of romance.
Love of youth alone? Oh, very well
But If you really think so, you would
better speak to the undertaken and
be quick about it. Because you are
dead already.
Genevieve," says james, with thai
| deep note she loves, "Genevieve."
! Copyright, by Associated Literary Press.