The Falls City tribune. (Falls City, Neb.) 1904-191?, November 11, 1904, Image 4

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The storm Dark.
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Out ot fin mist and the purple IlllrK
Of the sea , with Ill lempost-loss or
spray ,
Long ago there sailed n. bark
. Into New AI1181erdnm's gracious 110)
From Irnlllls ! of crystal her cordage
seemed
'fo bn spun , 50 gaily It sparkled nut
gleamed : .
Her hull , IIl1d her masts oC strange
device ,
Rhollo wllh the pllllor oC Arctic Ice ,
And her canvas , taut III the singing
. breeze ,
Was white n8 mho Hllhulrlrl oC wlnl1-swcpt
HClI ! ! ,
" lloonm ! " went time hfnhor's signal gun ,
lint never the sound or nil allIlWOrlll
hull ,
hose from decks that glowed In the Run :
Whlll Oil , with 110 sign / of 11 drooping
sail ,
j Time strange ship bore , with her spectral
look ,
Till she weathered the reaches oC Ol'lev-
oua Book ,
AIIII , wrllhlllce , faded suddenly
Under mho hills of limo 1'allpull Zee
With storm In her wake , ns black to
the sight
All she from the rail to the peak was
white
And now , nt the dreaded < < < < dark 0' the
l1Ioon ,
Though nil time : blue bo IIshlno with
stars ,
And land cued cantor seem keyed In tune
H , showing II shimmer or ShoRtly spars ,
That wlorl.l bark ripples n Reulllco glass
'I'hll river ion cry to Saint Nicholas ,
Anti Jlllt for port , for they know full
well ,
10:1'0 the sun peer 'out from its orient
cell ,
The heaven will reel and the earth will '
quail
tinnier the stroke of time tempest flail
-lIlItol1 Hcolllll' 111 Now York SUII
t A By MAN LAURA QF ; [ ;
J
I always think CO1hehm ] was n
lucky man to get the beggar maid for
his wife , for It Is not often that a
! royalty has the chance of marrying
I a woman who has not been clothed In
i fine linen and Cell on the adulation of
courtiers aU her life
ti For a Icing would sometimes like \ to
ho a man , too , and share In the conm
1110n give . ancl-talce or ordinary life
'rhm'ofm'e , 1 hope the beggar maid
was stalwart and self.rellant , for this ,
doubtless , was his majest one
chance In lifo
The case uf George Nowbolt was
something like \ Copholuu's It Is true
that ho wusn't a Icing , but an An1er1-
can stockbroker ; while Aimee Ruet
was not Il beggar malll , but Il painter
HUll , the man who can claim the
title of ml1l1onall'o has all time 1rlvll. ]
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Forgot that he wanted to abdicate
egos of nn emperor nowadays , while
the enthusiastic devotee of art , who
conscientiously copies time great inns-
toys , und only docs lot.holllng under
protest , Is often as penniless ] as the
prettiest barefooted : mendicant who
ever asked for alms at the roadside.
Nowbolt had only entered Into his
kingdom tcn years ago , but he was
weary of It already , and far from desiring -
siring moro worlds to conquer , he
pnl ) ' , 'IGhed to keep his name omit or
the papers and load 1\ quiet life
I . When ho mt Aimee , hOWtr , ho
hrcnot yet had ho courage to
I
struggle out of the maelstrom j and
the construction of his private yacht ,
time value of his collection of patch-
boxes , anti the color ot his favorite
necktie were still matters which excited .
cited dnlly comment In the Morning
PIcador , or Ma'talr Gazette
lie was just 1n that whimsical condition .
dltlon of mind when n man with loa
much grit In him to be debauched by
luxury will join n missionary society ,
go into the East End lo study the i
ways of the Hooligan , or start on nn I
exploring expedition through Tibet ,
by way of giving zest to nn existence
which threatens to become savorless
for want of varlely.
Before ho had decided which of
these courses to adopt , however , ho
mn over to Paris for a. few days lo
seC some of his favorite masterpieces
In the Louvre-for Newbolt had n by
no means contemptible love for plc-
tures-Illul there , In time Sallo aux
Pl'lmnUfs , ho SIlW Aimee Uuel , a
little French artist with a pale com-
plexIon , lovable mouth and glorious
eyes , soberly copying Corot's delightful
ful "Pa'snge , " whIch , with Its silvery
tints ! and h1l10finoble atmosphere ,
seems doublY alluring when one
comes to It jaded with trying to take
In the glowIng colors and sensational
compositions of Davlll , Ingres and
Delacl'Olx ,
For a moment Newholt forgot that
ho wanted to ahdlcate Ho only
thought that here was a poor person
( thQ child had so carefully darned the
halo ! In her blue arl1st's pinafore ! ) reproducing -
producing It picture he would give
worlds to possess , and that ho had
enough money to buy the copy over
and over again
lie spoke humbly , but not too ] mum-
bly , to AImee , expressing his admiration -
tlon of time COI'ol , and offering to pay
whatever price she liked lo ask for
the rOIlUcll j hut the color flew into
the girl's softly-rounded cheelts as
site firmly replied that , whatever monsieur .
sleur was prepared lo give , she could
not sell time picture
"I am not painting it for sale , "
went on the little French ; artist. " 1t
Is to ho n present to n. lifelong lover
or Corot. "
"But are you so rich that you can
afford to give such valuable gifts to
your Crlends ? " asked Nowbo1t , star-
Ing nt the canvas as If ho would get
its cool , \'aporlng coloring by heart.
"Ah , monsieur ! " she salll gently ,
"it Is the poor who do not count the
cost of what they bestow on those
they love ! "
Nowbo1t turned to look at her , and
his eyes rested curiously on the girl's
charming face , as she steadily con-
tinued her work , without so much asa
a glance In his direction.
"Will It disturb you If I watch you ,
mademoiselle ? " he asked , ahl'\lpl1
"Not at all. I am used to being
.
stared at while I .palnt , " und she looked -
od up with n. frank smile.
It was a strange beginning for the
fl'IendshIp which subsequently sprang
up between these two , hut It was Infinitely '
finitely more orIginal than a formal
Introduction In a crowded drawing-
room , just as theIr conversations later
on were far more unstudied , than
those which are carrIed on under the
o 'ei toad withIn earshot of 1\ sleepless '
less chaperone
, At all events , Newbolt postponed
his flight to TImbuctoo ( or whatever
other erratic form of "puttlug In
t . . . no" he had been contemplating ) ,
and staid In Paris for sIx weeks , dtmr-
lug which ho was a regular vIsitor at
the Louvre and a constant attendant
on Aimee UIIOt. She , with aB the
zest of an unBpo11t chlld.H1w nature ,
put " " " 1mer whole heart Into her frIend-
ship for Newboltj ; but her frank attitude .
tude of camaraderie rather exasperated -
cd hIm sometimes , when ho would
have preferred to see her eyes downcast .
cast and her cheeks a lIttle more rosy
under hIs 10\'er-H1w glances
For ; It had come to that-Nowbolt
was hopolessl In love with Aimee ,
while she , at present , was In love
with art , to the exclusion ot any emotion .
tlon of a more ngIh\thig character
for any male suitor , rich or poor.
He tried to tell her one dl\ y , when
she halt cOlaeni to t gd .ith him
.
on the steam tramway to St. Germain-
en-II1)'o , hut the girl would not allow
him to go on
1t0 , I have heard the same thing
from many men , although I seem so
young , " she said , naively , Itand always
think It's such a pity ! You see , how
you spoil our friendshIp-nnd just
when It was becomIng nlr.lOst perfect -
fect ! "
"Aimee , are you n cold and cruel
woman , or only n wilful , careless
child ? " said Newboll , catching time
little hand that was full ot violets she
hall gathered In the orest.
She shook her head amid tears came
into those beautiful eyes which so
often played havoc with Newbolt's
rCfiolu t Ions ,
"Nelther , but 1\ hard-working artist
- Bohemian , If you will-who' loves
her freedom and her ambition too
weB to gIve them up wlllingly-
BesIdes , there Is Aunt Eustaclej ; no
one cnn make omelettes for her as
I can. "
"Don't make Aunt Eustaclo an excuse .
cuse , " he said , gently ; "for she should
never be parted from you , nor deprived .
prlved of her omelels "
"You are good , " replied AImee ,
looking at him wistfully ; "so good
.
that 1 hate to give you pain j but , "
slowly , "I don't love you as I ought to
love : you , If-ah , mon ami , let us not
speak about it ! After nIl , we have
so little In common when we are not
talking of Corolj ; for you have lived
J'I ' happilY , free from care and anxiety
loty while 1 have toiled amid faced
dlsat)11olntment , and suffered and 'seen
life. ' What could you do for mo except .
cept 1)mo \ pretty frocks , house mo ,
sumptuously , and see that I never I
again wanted 101' material comforts ?
As for pretty frocks , I like them-what
woman doesn't ? But I cannot exist
for these things alone. "
"Ever word you say makes mo
revHze how much I lose III losing
you ! " saId Newbolt , hllSldl - . "But ,
Aimee , you have taught me , by the
force of a living example what 1sel. .
flsh brute 1 am , and the old shackles
have faHEm from me I shall never ,
1 think , sink so low again. You don't
love me , my chillI-why should you ?
But I shall try to win you ) 'et. Some
clay , " he alllled , wIth dIfficulty steady-
ing his ! voice , "you will turn lo me 111
a moment of loneliness and misery ,
and grow happIer In the thought that
one man In the world Is livIng for
his fellow-men because he loves : reuse
so welL"
They were silent for a few min-
\tes , then Newbolt said In his ordinary .
nary tones :
"Anll now that the 'Pa'sago' Is finished -
Ished , may 1 ask to whom you arc
goIng to present It ? "
Her eyes wldenell.
"lIa ven't 1 tolll you ? Oh , Il'n for
Aunt Eustacle , lo hang In her room ,
because she Is bedridden with paralysis .
sis find can't stir She once saw the
paInter when he was still a boy , living
Il1g wIth his mother , who used to be a
marchande de modes tn the Qual Vol-
talro , and she Is .very fond of hIs
pictures. "
- "Then ili ot grudge ' " ) your .
to her Happy Aunt Eustacle-and I
happy AImee to bo possessed of such
n brave , unselfish heart. "
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it a 110 . r
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Newbo1t had been out of the world
for three years , and this was his first
appearance In society since he had
risen to time surface of that whirlpool
of suffering humanity In which he had
submerged hImsllt. !
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The soft chatter at well-brCll wom-
en and time rustle : of dainty skirts
sounded pleasantly In hIs ears after
the rasping accent of flower girls and
coslers j but he smiled n lithe sadly
as ho glanced over the crowded room ,
taking "the measuro" of his we11.
groomed fellow men as they assiduously .
ously handed muffins and talked small
talk to time smiling sIrens whose very
garments wbra . . redolent , of the exotic
atmosphere in which they ' had been
nurtured " , . r. , ' , . . . .
Ho put cl Wn . , bs ! teacup anti step'
pod , unnoticed . . . into the .lIttle baleoJ1Y ,
rlcht with : achtlot ger\nlumo ( , which
tan alone the Window behind hiL
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n low wicker chair under the awnlas
sat a girl who wore a lilac muslin . I
Gown , pressing her hand to her eye ! , Y ili
" "f "
"Oh , Major Grant , how quick you ,
have been ! " she said , ns ho came to :
the balcony. "LndY Gifford evidently .
keeps her eau do Cologne hnndy. " .
The gIrl raised her ayes with a. " I
grateful smile , but their expression 1
changed as they met those of Now- 1
bolt and n deep hush dyed her pale '
taco In an Instant. - '
"Oh , It can't be- 'es , It Is I" ! and
she sprang from her chair , holding out
her hands with the impulsive gesture
of a glad child-tho characteristic
gesture or AImee Ruet. "That v.0
should meet here-how strange It
sloms. "
Womanlllte , she was time first to regain -
gain her self-11Ossesron ! , and In a few
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Itl said what was not true. " t f
minutes they were comparing notes [
on the events of the past few years
without any embarrassment.
"Yes , " she said , presently , In answer
lo a question of his , "I suppose 1 amp . : "
famous-In a war ! People 111\0 my ( 1 \ '
pictures , and make a fuss with me , J
and I have money to spend , and the ,
world treats mo well , But you see , ' .
Aunt Eustacia Is dead , and there 19
no longer anyone for whom I can
make omelettes ! Dear Aunt Eustaclo !
I wIsh I were back again In the little , -
fiat aux quatrleme , where wo lived together . . " .
gether so long ! But 'ou-aro you , . , .
nol happy ? 1 hear of your noble
work among the poor , and I glow with . , ' : . :
prIde to think that you are my
friend " ,
"Is that so , " he asked eagerly. "Is
It true that , although you would not
even write to me , you still counted me . , _ . ,
yen friend ? Aimee , you know that
it 1 have done any good In the world . '
It Is through your Influence. There'Y :
Core , if to love ono's fellow men makes .
one happy , your life ought to lJo full
of felicity ! For myself , 1 have learned . .
to believe In humankind , but there h ,
still something wanting In my lIte- " /i. :
something for which 1 asked you that . . . .
day at St. Germaln-en.laye , Do you . .
remember ? " , - - .i
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" 1 have never forgotten It , " she , : ! , .
Raid , gently , her eyes averted "I ' : " ' 1
had to remember that { :
have reason . : ' - ' . . oJ:0 :
afternoon sadly enough many limes . _ " : ' - :
since then For-wlll you forgive me ? , ( . ' ,
-I said what was not trne. " :
"Yon meun- " " '
" 1 mean that I loved you then , although . 1'1
though I did not know It. I mean . :
that 1 have missed Cj'OU every hour of
every day sI ce-t mean that I am ; .
!
miserable tlnd lonely-nnd- "
She drew awn ) ' the hands which he Y . "
had grasped , and sprang up hastily
as voices were heard near the "In-
jow.
"Aimee , " he said , his eyes fixed on
her face , "beforo wo arc interrupted -
promise mo one thing-promise that
you will be my wife. " . .
And just as Major ' Grant appeacdd . , . ' ; :
behind thom , his florid taco full ot " , .
concern as he drew the stopper / tram * ; .J1
, r
! \ott1 . of eau do cole nc , she raised . < .
iler eyes and said ; "I promise- : ' : : "
Ltu1 , ' . Pictorial ! . , I . . - ;
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