Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1928-09-17

Nathaniel Hawthorne. 1so4-1se4. was an
sore no assfT Of ssst ana
Moses From an Old Manss," stc)
There was a time when Rose Grafton
possessed beauty that would have glad
dened her dim and dismal chamber as
with sunshine. It won for her the
heart of Edward Fame, who has since
made so great a figure in the world
and Is now grand old gentleman with
powdered hair and as equity as a lord.
These early lovers thought to have
walked hand in hand through life.
They had wept together for Edwards
little sister, Mary, whom Rose tended
In her sickness. When the sods were
laid on little Mary the heart Of Rose
was troubled. She shuddered at the
fancy that in grasping the child's cold
fingers her virgin hand had exchanged
first meeting with mortality and
could never lose the earthly faint.
How many such greetings has she
had since thenl But as yet she was q
fair young girl. with the dewdrops of
fresh feeling in her bosom. and instead
OF Rose, which seemed too mature a
| name for her half-opened beauty, her
lover called her Rosebud
The rosebud was destined never to
bloom for Edward Fame. His mother
was rich and naughty dame, with
all the aristocratic prejudices Of Colo
NAL times. She scorned Rose Graf
tons humble parentag4 and caused her
son to break his faith, though had she
let him choose he would have priced
| his Rosebud above the richest dia-
mond. The lovers parted and seldom
met again.
Both may have visited the same man.
sions, but not at the same time. For
one was hidden to the festal hall, and
the other to the sick chamber. Rose
had become nurse, q companion of
illness, present at deaths. He was the
guest Of Pleasure and Prosperity and
she of Anguish.
Rose, after their separation, was long
secluded within the dwelling of Mr..
Toothaker, whom she married with the
revengeful hope of breaking her false
lovers heart. She went to her BRIDE
groom's arms with bitterer tears, they
| say, than young girls ought to shed at
the threshold of the bridal chamber.
Yet though her husbands head was
| getting gray and his heart had been
chilled with an Autumnal frost, Rose
soon began to love him and wondered
at her own conjugal affection. He was
all she had to love; there were no
children.
Then his poor soul crept away and
left the body lifeless, though hardly
more so than for years. and Rose a
widow, though in truth it was the
wedding night that had widowed her
| So now the Rosebud was Widow Toot-
| haker.
Her troubles had come early, and
| tedious as they seemed, had passed
before all her bloom was fled. She was
still fair enough to captivate a BACH
| elor, or with widows cheerful grav-
| ity she might have won widower,
| stealing into his heart in the very
guise of his dead wife.
But the Widow Toothaker had no
such projects. BY her watchings and
| continual cares her heart had become
knit to her first husband with a con-
stancy which changed its very nature
and made her love him for his i'm
| firnities and infirmity for his sake
| even her early lover could not have
supplied his place. She had dwelt in a
sick chamber and been the companion
of half-dead wretch till she could
scarcely breathe in a free air and felt
| i'll at ease with the healthy and the
happy. She missed the odor of the
| doctors stuff.
She walked her chamber with a
noiseless football. If visitors came in.
| she spoke in soft and soothing accents
and was startled and shocked by their
loud voices. Often in the lonesome
evening she looked timorously from the
| fireside to the bed with almost hope
of recognizing a CHASTITY face upon the
pillow. Then went her thoughts sadly
| to her husbands grave.
If one impatient throb had wronged
him in his lifetime, if she had secretly
repined because her buoyant youth was
imprisoned with his torpid age, If ever
while slumbering beside him a treach-