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UNIVERSITY OF NEBRASKA.
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LINCOLN, NEBRASKA, .JANUARY 14, 1898.
No. 16
";i?ijiiisln i ion IVoin Tiiiiuoiinim.
In solemn stillness rests the wind
Hear on the mountain's dreamy wild
And underneath low hanging boughs
'Of fowl' tree, reclines the child.
Around her grows the fragrant thyme.
The air is filled with perfume rare.
In the dim shade the blueflies hum
And glisten through the sunny air.
Her childish face reflects the calm.
That in the silent forest broods
And o'er her waving golden hair
Sunshine is glinting through the woods.
Then to my mind this quick thought comes
As cuckoo's note sounds through the given,
1-iere are the winsome, sunny eyes
Of the fairy-like forest queen.
Lui.v lkriMiows.
iXt-i ioK !. Ion.
There is a new house in the hollow; its roof
is on a level with my line of vision; the ohim
'ifCy looks like u human figure standing there
upon a bright red brilliancy. I feel a sense
of companionship, because the bridge upon
'which J am standing is painted red. After
all ton years, has made little change.
The sun is so hot. 1 look at the shallow
water, and idly loss down a pebble. It strikes
something porhaps the bones of the kitten 'I
saw drowned in that very Hpot. The same
boy is coming along the dusty road now, ho
wears the same red waist; he carries a sack
upon his shoulder; his smile is cruel. A cat
is in the bag what is the fearful boy going to
do? lie tries to lay down his burden, but the
sharp claws which have worked their way
through their prison, hold tight to the bright
waist. From the sack comes a plaiuffive
mewing. The boy loosens the clutch of the
little claws with a jerk, and then there is a
splash in the water below.
'J bit the boy's hand J am not sorry and
then 1 went running home through the patch
That Hill side was once covered with
Now the departed, excepting oiks
of nettles. The s" me nettles are there now.
By leaning over ie railing, I can see the
shady place underneath; once T gathered
shells there; the bridge-posts were soldiers,
in the crevices overhead, there were "birds'
nests. Some one answered me from the op
posite bank whenever 1 willed. The teams
passing above what a moment of suspense
when the horses stopped upon the bridge!
What a thunder-like sound when the bridge
began to tremble! How silent it was when
the sound rolled away with the wagon. 1 can
see a little figure climbing up the bank in
haste, grasping the sturdy sunflower stalks
with brown fists, and finally thrusting a blue
bonneted head through the bridge railing.
Now it is gone.
Oil thereupon the hill, the object in 'the
center of the plowed field, it. is the same little
grave,
graves.
are resting under the benign shadow of 'the
Catholic (Jhurch, whose cross I see in the dis
tance. That one grave was left: nobody knew
whom it sheltered, but, after all, what'difFor
ence! Some men are plowing in the fljld.
I'orhaps they will stop to rest their horses
near tin; mound, and lean upon tint little fence
Avhile they talked together. That fence, of
carefully twisted branches, is it there stilly
The sun blurs my eyes.
V there upon the hill is the old haunted
house. 'Long ago I ofton watobed the. 'lights
which flashed from window to window. The
place was used then for a granary, and I im
agined the ghosts mounting from pile to pile,
slipping and falling or sinking out of sight
The grove by the creek: I see it again,
alive with happy faces, the green boughs
creaking with the weight of many Hwings.
Uehind the trees, there must be a tiny white
house with its door yard full of big, bright
flowers. The pnth up to the kitchen door 'is
beaten hard and smooth, laughing babies,
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