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IN embryo.
The egg in the shallow brown nest
How lifeless, how pale to the eve'
How long it is pressed to the mother’s warm
AndkeDtfrom p the shafts of tim «tv! y '
_
et listen, my sweet,
■ niy sweet,
And . . think , . , on the changes that fall,
For a heart is beginning to tremble and beat
Close under the delicate wall!
A bird is astir in the nest—
The creature of sunshine and day;
How little and weak, with its wide yellow
bea5 .
,, , v nak and ,
0 ; a gray '
Vet listen, , dear,
_ my
Oh listen, dear, _
my
And think on the chances that fad,
hor the carols of summer are joyful to hear,
And Hope is the ruler of all!
As magic is wrought in the nest,
The night is pursued by the mum,
And surely at last from the waUs of tfce past *
The life of the future is born
Then listen, my sweet,
Oh listen, my sweet,
And think on the changes that fall,
For the heart of the morrow will quicken and
beat,
And burst into being for all!
—Dora Head Goodale , in Young People.
LAUNCE.
The last ray from the setting sun fell
■on a broken shaft across lake Lucerne,
ifaee touching with a rich hue the handsome
of Launce, the boat-house keeper,
as he sat on the edge of the long plat
form, with his fishing-line dropped in the
water.
The sad look in his smouldering dark
•eyes did not bespeak much enjoyment of
his occupation. As he jerked his line
from the water, landing a shining beauty
beside him, a shadow fell along the
form, and a girl’s light step came after
it.
“What success, Launce? Have you
enough yet ? You must bring them at
once, for the supper must not be de
layed,” said a sweet but imperative
voice.
“ Would the consequence be so terri
ble if the Count Von Bruner should not
get his supper as soon as he should want
it ?” asked the dark-faced Launce, with
smiling basket sarcasm, as he arose and took up
the of fish.
“ I cannot say: only Aunt Wilmine is
anxious that everything should be ready
when the carriage arrives,” ” she -* replied
will impatiently, “Give me the basket;
take them myself.
“Well, here they that are, my lady; and
it is hopeful I am the Count will not
get a fishbone in his throat, "said Launce,
with a half cynical laugh, as he held the
basket toward her. When she reached
to take it he caught hcr small hand in
his, and pressed a kiss upon it.
The girl’s face grew crimson with
anger. Fhe snatched her hand away,
uttering “How with vehemence:
dare you, presumptuous fel
'iov.-'P
“Vour words are true, Gretchen. It
is presemptuous for me to love you; jet
offend I cannot help doing so. I will not again
you.” He put the basket down
at her feet and looked regretfully at the
beautiful face, transformed with anger
and wounded pride.
“If 3 tell Aunt Wilmine of this she
will send you away immediately. She
is calling ine now, and has no doubt
witnessed your bold act. How can I
ever forgive you?” she said with incrcas
ing anger.
“ You will forgive me mmetime,
away to save Jf her y° the ul ; trouble auat , 1 of aua going
m °' ..fniob J Jans taa Ul C take my place. He
ieR t cr ,• his dark , , sad 1
, . ,
y s, as s e wen silently away, hcr step
icss lignt man when she Had come a mo
ment Oeiore; then he wont into his little
room, which was a part ot the boathouse,
ana prepared his simple meal, as was
his custom.
An hour later, seated at jus small „ win- .
dow. he watched Gretchen and the
weaitny Fount Yon Bruner strolling
through parterfes of flowers. With a
leeiing akin to jealousy, he saw the
Count pluck the rarest rose to place in
her go.den hair, as if he were already
master ot ‘Jana and lady, which he
loncj.y wou.ii accept hoped the to suit be, he tl came the fair to plead lady
with her ambitious aunt.
Launce sat looking at the great man
. aft^r Gretchen and the Count
sion .ong
had gone m. The lights from the arched
windows shone through the lace cuiv
tains, and Gretchen’s pure, rich voice
fl oated across tlie distance in that, pas
. “ Thou art and
: 80 Ilear
Gretchen’s song ceased. .Suddenly,
Launce arouseci himself. He went into
a small inner-room, and took from a peg
on the wa n an 0 ld leathern bag, then—
having lighted a candle—sat down to
examine its contents. There was but
little to look at : an old, worn violin, that
had been his father’s, and a large wallet
filled with old letters written in Italian,
bauace lo< ? ked «*S«*> y “&* ‘ beul
until ho came to one not quite so
as the others. Five years had passed
since he placed this letter in the old wal
lot. The remembrance of it had faded
year by year, until it seemed like a vague
dream.
had Something within liis lieait to-night
recalled more vividly the memory of
); ho timR wbcn his fatbei ' lay dying, »? d
had 7 given him this , letter, telung him
" h ,? U he bc * U a °f, ,n th,; " orld
to to do do as as the the letter letter directed directed him. him.
Launce was too young at that time to
do more than earn a scant livelihood;
but he was now seventeen, and he re
preached himself that the command of
his dying father—that might be the
means of restoring him to family and
title, which his father had lost through
wilffilness—had so long been djsrc
garded.
He s.tudied the letter closely for a long
time; then he replaced the papers and
put his few articles of apparel and what
money he had into the old bag. Having
extinguished the light, he. took the vio
lio i,nd sat down once more at the little
window.
Months had elapsed since its strings
find responded to the touch of his fingers,
With the quickness of an expert he tuned
the chords to harmony, then lost himself
in » sad, weird improvisation, as he had
often heard his father do in his sad hours
when they were together.
The lights were out in the drawing
room of the great house, and Gretchen
had gone to her own apartments. The
gibbous moon hung high above the
mountain top, and shone like quivering
sil. er on the lake. Wild, sweet zephyrs,
that seemed to come from some strange
hung sphere, swept through the vines that
at her windo*.
And now, while she stands there,
what so und is that, swelling and dying
on the night, winds? Ah, those strains!
Now filled with love, again with passion
ate moonlight, despair, they float and quiver in the
then, wafted through the
easement, envelop Gretchen in a sublime
cadence.
The swaying vines touch her soft cheek
where a teardrop rests.' She knew not
whence it came* nor why.
She She kept kept thinking thinking of of Launce, L.....,^, who .. .......... had
dared to say lie loved her—who had
dared to kiss her hand, and say she
would some day forgive him. Could she
ever do so? Poor, lonely Launce: with
no „„ ______„„ friends, no companionship. ...........
was he not already forgiven :
The ~ strains ■*— : — had - 1 died 1; - 1 away, and
Gretchen was losing herself in a wild,
improbable fancy, in which she was
wooed by one whom she loved, who was
noble and high-born, but who had eyes
like Launce’s, in whose passionase depths
was reflected her own soul.
She was aroused from this waking
dream by seeing the figure of a man
cautiously approaching from the direc
tion of the boat-house. Could it be
Launce? and what could he want at this
hour? She forgot all her sympathy for
him, and, her old pride returning, she
felt angry as she realized that he was
coming directly tinder her window. She
feared to ask why he was there lest
somebody baRk)n the should shadow bear her. She drew
of the room.
“farewell, Camstma, until we meet
again!” came in low, sad tones to her
*
“Launce! I.aimce!’’ tier heart cried, .
but her lips made no sound. When she
looked again she saw only a dark object
moving failed along the white road; then it
out in the weird moonlight.
Aunt Wilmine was very angry the
next the usual morning at Launce’s failure to bring
basket of fish for breakfast,
and forthwith installed Dutch Jans in
his place; but she was more angry at
Gretchen’s refusal that day of the
offer of marriage.
She had cherished the fond hope of
seeing her niccc a countess. Her grand
scheme had been successful; the prize
was within her grasp. Thus rudely to
have the enchanting dream dispelled was
more than her ambitious heart could
bear with fortitude. She stormed and
threatened, to no purpose. Gretchen
was Arm in her decision.
Wilmine,” “Marry the Count “f yourself, Aunt
she said, am sure you are
quite young enough for him. As for
t^the "invent
Gretchen, until you can act with reason
and give a favorable answer to the
Count,” declared her irate aunt, with
tears of vexation filling her eyes.
This decision of Aunt Wilmine’s
seemed to allay the anger and mortiflfca
tion of the Count, who went away with
the understanding that he should be
notified of any change in Gretchen’s
sentiments towards him.
1 ha prospect ot returning to the con
vent which had been a sweet, peaceful
home to Greehten for so many years, was
not looked very forward appalling as a punishment. She
to the event with much
greater calmness than to the thought
of becoming the bride of Count Von
Bruner.
Th ® decree ot banishment, being un
alterable, , Gretchen , went bac k to St.
b rsala s ’ tbere to remilI « a un
til her acquicsence in her aunt’s plans ,
should set her free,
When, a week later, she wrote that
she had entered on a course of music
that would require five years to com
plete, Aunt Wilmine acknowledged her
self checkmated,
The summer guests at Wiesbaden
were in a state of delightful expectation
over the announcement that the wonder
fulyoung violinist, Count Cellini, would
give There a concert had at that place.
been a number of new ar
rivals at the spacious Hotel de I’Europe.
and the younger ladies were on the qui
vive to discover which was the famous
musician who, rumor said, belonged to
one of the first families of Italy,and had
inherited immense wealth from a de
ceased relative.
The guests were assembled for supper
at the grand table d’hote. A portly
matron at the farther end is no less a
personage than Aunt Wilmine. and be
side her the fair Gretchen, somewhat
older than when last we saw her, but
with a matured loveliness that far ex
cceds her girlish beauty. They have
spent a year in travel since Gretchen was
released from the convent. Count Von
Bruner, seated on Aunt Wilmine’s right,
with a surviving hope still in his heart,
has joined youfig them at Weisbaden.
A man seated almost,
to Gretchen, and who was unmistakably
Italian, was the target for many bright
and furtive glances. Ills gaze was re
peatediy fixed upon Gretchen, who
seemed entirely oblivious of bis presence.
As he rose to leave the table their eyes
met.
At the concert that night their eyes
metagain; for he was in reality the
gICM great , u violinist. viuuuisu When irncu he ne played piajea the me
mus ic seemed to recall those sad strains
she had heard the night Launce went
away. Before her mental vision arose
the moonlit road, and on it one, lone
form that, faded like a phantom.
The next day Gretchen and Aunt
Wilmine returned to their suburban
home, from which they had been absent
so long. Fount Von his Bruner accompanied
them to again has'no urge suit.
“Gretchen lovers, and cares for
no one else,” Aunt Wilmine argued with
herself, “and, now that she is older and
wiser, must see Where* the propriety of
a husband. should she find one
save in the Fount, who has been so faith
ful and amTed Ion" waiting”
They at home in the afternoon,
Being the fatigued, dav. Gretchen kept her room
until next Then, eager for a
sight of her old haunts and a clamber up
the mountain side, she left the house un
known to her aunt.
The Fount, growing To impatient at.her
Don . appca 1 * rance, sent request an inter
view Not fin(JinR hcr hcr rooru
Alint wilmine learned from the servants
that she had gone for a walk.
her Thinking it a propitious time and to follow
to some romantic spot urge hcr
acceptance of his love, the Count took
his hat and hastened to find her.
Down by the old boat-house Gretchen
had gone, where she lingered awhile,
thinking of Launceand his last low words,
spoken under her windows; “Farewell,
Carissima, until we meet again.” Ah!
that would never be!
place, She gave a faint sigh climbing as she left the
and was soon up the
mountain in search of hcr favorite wild
flower—the mountain pink.
fortunately Presently they she espied in a bunch, but un- in
accessible—on were slopodircctly a spot amost
the a steep would over
lake, where a false step pre
desire cipitatc her have into them its deep waters. hcr fears Hcr
to overcame
at last, and creeping cautiously along,
holding by strong vines and bushes, she
secured her prize.
As she turned to go back a portion
of the projection that had served as a
foothold, lake, broke loose and fell into the
her leaving her no hope of regaining
safety.
Just at tliar moment she saw the
Count, who was seeking her to lay hi3
love and a title at her feet. Calling
loudly to him to save her, she clung to
her frail support with reviving hope.
The Count, who seemed born for love
making instead of heroic deeds, ran to
the .house for assistance, leaving Gretch¬
en, with fast falling strength, hanging in
extreme peril.
Hold “Courage! brave girl; I will save you.
look down,” firmly to the bushes, and do not
said a clear, rich voice,
with Italian accent.
In a moment the owner of the voice
had the boat from the boat house, and
with swift strokes was soon near the
spot where Gretchen hung.
“Now jump into the lake; do not
fear. It is your only way of escape.”
Gretchen obeyed the voice that com¬
manded her, and sank into the dark
water. The next moment she came to
the surface, and was lifted into the boat
by her brave rescuer. She was uncon¬
scious, and Launce was excusable if he
kissed the face of the woman he loved.
The Count, having by this time re¬
turned with Dutch Jans took in the
situation at once, and, feeling that he
would be out of place in the presence of
the man who had saved Gretchen from a
death to which his cowardice had left
her, he hastened to the house, took his
portmanteau, and, without a word to
anyone, left the place.
When Gretchen recovered conscious¬
ness and looked upon her preserver, she
said:
“You are Count Cellini, the gre.it
musician whom 1 met. at Weisbaden:”
“I am,” he replied, “but I have another
title by which you may better remember
me; Launce! and I have come back for
your forgiveness for the offence I gave
you six years ago.”
(» Oh, Launce! you had my forgiveness
the night, you went away.”
chen—-1 “Flow 1 want something more, Gret¬
want your love.”
“I think I gave you that with the for¬
giveness, Launce.”—W -e Yo k Clipper.
A Gigantic Turnip.
From time to time the most wonderful
plants known on the earth are shoved
aside by wonders still move wonderful.
It is not so very lor.gago since thousands
flocked to see the great Queen of the
Amazon, the Victoria water lily. Many
a greater vegetable marvel has appeared
since then—now if is a giant aroid,
which those interested in these vegetable
curios are waiting and watching for in
the Royal lvew collection. It is not far
removed botanieally from our common
Indian turnip, and when its flowers ex
pond, the as hoped for is this year, the odor of
skunk cabbage expected to be in
'leased a hundred fold. While our
Aram or Indian turnip has a tuber of
about six inches in circumference, this
will reach five fee*.. The leaf stalk of
ours is from t welve to eighteen inches—
this is about ten feet, and the stalk itself
is three feet round, as against three
inches in ours. The circumference of
the leaf-blade is forty-five feet. Only
think of a leaf-blade to a plant, that dies
to the ground every year, extending fif
teen feet across ! The Victoria tiiy leaf,
s something > x or eight prodigious. feet across, The was flower deemed
will
be somewhat like our well-known calla
lily, but with a long and curiously twist
ed spadix, from whence it receives its
generic mme.-fadrpt„d<Mf.
Heated by Chemical Foot Warmers.
Luke Sharp savs in the Detroit Free
ridicule Prm: I on i: brought a by good asserting deal of
upon myself in
those columns that I traveled on an Eng
li.-h train heated by chemical foot warm
ers. When these things got cold you
shook ’em up and they gave out heat
again. I never got anyone to believe
this story, and yet it was true. I have
found out since 'that the chemical used
was some sort of soda affair, and 1 un
derstand that the fact that this compound
of soda will give out heat has caused it
to bc used a- an engine for running street
ears. I believe that they are going to
use the soda motor on a ( hicago street
car line. I don’t know whether any of
the soda foot warmers arc used in Fng
land or not. 1 couldn’t find any on the
little island when 1 was there last win
ter, though urged‘by my unbelieving
friends to do so for the sake of mv own
reputation for veracity.