Jasper County Democrat, Volume 2, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 August 1899 — MY GIRL. [ARTICLE]

MY GIRL.

<55 5V7 ES ’ darling, I give you my V 7 secret to keep. I hide it all under your warm, pink hand. It will not disturb your innocent sleep. But you’ll wake, and find It, and understand.” * • » « » « « I fancy it was some adaptation of a familiar poem that crept into my brain just then. I was at home on a college vacation, young and hopeful and ambitious. I had not thought much about girls—surely nothing of marriage—for I was only twenty then, and, naturally, a student. But. there was a girl at mother’s this wonderful summer time of which I write. A girl with soft, Intense brown eyes, and a pale, delicate face, relieved by a brilliant scarlet mouth, and dark, fine hair. I never knew—do not know to this day, whether that girl was bandsome or not, but she charmed me. I should have been content to sit still all day long and stare at her. Every tone of her voice was music, every word concentrated wisdom. At least that was what I thought then, and I did not Intend to be spoony. I suppose I had as little respect for spoonylsm as any young fellow in town. But that girl—she made me forget all at once tQ be a boy. She would talk ip a clear, plain way about duty and work to be done, and I would listen with varying color and quick-coming breath, as though an oracle bad spoken. Then I opened my books, and set about reviewing my studies, with a grand ambition born somewhere among her words, differing entirely from the schoolboy ambition I bad felt before. Once I studied to keep a high place in my class, to please mother, and in order that some day I might graduate with high honors. Now, I felt that there were certain truths hidden in nature which I ought to discover; great stores of knowledge waiting for me to win; heights and depths of science yet unexplored, and rhe great mass of humanity to be taught, raised, elevated, that the world might be a better world for my life and labors npon It. r r Oh, the days that I dreamed out grandly in those first wakenings of scholarly hope and pride. And all for her sake, who floated about the old house like a glimpse of light, never seeming to make the slightest effort for power or influence, and yet bringing hope and sunshine wherever she moved. It was while I was thus charmed and dazed by her sweet presence that the dream of love came to me, and I thought how pleasant home would_.be if she could always brighten and bless it with her presence, and so I wrote her a long, long letter, which, when finished, seemed so very formal and stupid that I dreaded to think how a little, quiet laugh might lurk about her beautiful mouth, Or a surprised, half

1 ' ' angry frown creep across her fair brows, If she ever read It Then I determined to commit the whole thing to memory, and repeat it to her at some convenient time, wondering if I could make her believe It a mere extemporaneous burst of eloquence. There was not much burst about it, as I concluded when I came to rehearse It; but she was so plain and practical, perhaps she would like It better, I thought, than any amount of rhetorical flourish. It certainly evinced earnestness and determination, for I had thrown into it all the force of a college essay, with more heart than any essay ever held. So I waded patiently through the whole four pages, and then waited and watched my chance. I did not dare ask her to walk with me, and there was never a possibility of finding her alone anywhere about the house, for when she was not with mother, Tommy, my younger brother, was sure to be hanging around, and there was no use in trying to talk sentiment with his sharp ears on the alert to catch every word, however softly spoken. I do not know what kindly fate prompted my wanderings, one warm, bright afternoon, but out in the orchard I found her, my heart’s queen, fast asleep In the hammock I had hung low between two gnarled old apple trees, with one hand holding the book she had been reading, and the other half closed beneath her pale, pretty face. In an instant I had forgotten reason and argument. I tore a leaf from my note book and wrote on it only “I love you.” Ob, strange epitome of life! This I folded carefully, then slipped it as carefully Into her hand and walked away, saying softly: “You will wake and find it, and understand, And all unawares will your answer be given. For I shall be watching your dreamy eyes, My fair queen lily, my glimpse of heaven.” Then I climbed Into the nearest tree, where I could see her plainly. She woke soon—woke with a fluttering bf faqr white eyelids and a quick, soft sigh. The folded paper rustled beneath her hand as she raised herself on one elbow; she drew it out listlessly and read: “I love you.” I saw the puzzled look on her face give place to a soft, rosy glow—such a wondering, happy look; then she glanced shyly around, slipped out of her swinging couch and walked away. I climbed into the nest she had left and lay there dreaming for hours, quite content to know’ that she did not reject my love, and that she fully understood it, for I was sure 1 had heard her murmur: “What a strange, shy child he is,” and I had chuckled all to myself, saying: “Ah, little motherly woman, I am afraid you will find him a forward child to mtinage, but he means to grow gentle and good for your sake.” I knew it would not be right to bind her to any promise. She was so young, I had still two years of college life before me, but I treated her with a new deference w’hich she returned with a shy sweetness that made her seem more charming than ever.' Only a few days passed in this way, and then vacation was ended and I must needs return to college walls and written pages once again, thus shutting out that-sweet, bright page of real life. But only for a little time, I said to myself, until I can return and claim her.

I bade her good-by as she stood by mother's side iu the old porch, and with sudden, unintentional earnestness I thanked her for the beauty she had lent to the beautiful summer, and the new Interpretation of life and labor, her brave, clear words had given? The tears filled her soft, bright eyes, she gave my hand a last, warm, clinging clasp, and so I left her. The next year I went traveling with a class of boys to teach them surveying, and so for two years I did not see my dear old home, and only heard from my darling at Irregular intervals, when mother would mention her name, “Clarice is well.” “Clarice wishes to be remembered,” and that was all. I saw her at “Commencement,” my cool, fresh Illy, in that crowded rose garden, and then I hastened home, only to learn that she, my darling, was to be married in a week to my brother Toni, They had only waited for me to be with them. Oh! how I cursed his round, fat face, his big, blue eyes, his bronze-bright, curling hair. I wandered out to the orchard and threw myself on the grass alone. I heard the soft rustle of her dress, and springing up with a burst of passion that would not be suppressed I *took both her hands in mine and said: “Clarice, darling, you surely knew that I loved you.” "No, oh, no!” she answered, with a horrified lopk. “But the slip of paper I left in your hands two years ago.” “Ohougbt it wfis from Tom,” she said, drearily. “And the bitterest moment of iny life was when—last night—--1 learned ” , “But it is not too late now,” I urged. “You may, you must, be mine.” For one Instant her face flushed pink, like the deep, sweet heart of a rose. Then the white, tense look came back.—New York News. Great at Act of Derotion. Major Marchand, the explorer, has received from the French Academy of Moral and Political Sciences the Audlffred prize of 15,000 francs “for the greateat act of devotion of any kind.” About the same time the French government bestowed upon his sister, Mlle. Marchand, the right to keep a tobacco shop in the Rue de la Tour d’Auvergne, in Paris.