Newspaper Page Text
Beptembor G, 1903.
THE ILLUSTRATED BEE. 11 necessity of explaining- my presence. With out deliberation I asked: "Why did you not answer me!" She did not reply, and I repeated tho question. I could not think of anything else to say. Then she stammered: "I was bo frightened. "Why, because t called youT" "You called bo softly." "Well. yea." I became frightfully em brassed and stuttered. "Should I have called loudly?" Thereupon she remained silent again. I also stood wordless, reflecting that It was strange how even now w both had spoken so softly, almost In whispers. Silently she began to pick berries again. Silently I stood and watched her slender, pale fingers glide among the leaves. Sud denly she said: "Why do you not pick berries also? Surely you came only to help me!" "Oh, yea, surely." I tirought the clumsy He out laboriously and began to pick obediently. Then I had to sloop so far forward that my face almost met hers. Once our hands touched In the foliage. We both started backed as If a snnke had bitten us. At the same time a hot thrill went over me, and I could scarcely catch ray breath. Yet I tried again and again to touch her hand. But when I thought, "Now It will happen!" the little busy hand would always be somewhere else. I picked so chimriTy that I crushed the berries. She criticised: "I beg of you! The fruit must not be bruised. This Is the way to pick. See! Tou are not looking at all!" I had to look at her eyes. How, then, could I look at her fingers? So she said, discouraged: "You would better not try. Tou cannot lenni. Ia It possible that you never picked raspberries In all your life? Then you have never eaten them fresh from the bush? Quick, quick! Kat now. You may eat as many as you wish. Goodness! I am always saying 'you' instead of 'Your Royal Highness! "It Is terrible." "What?" "That I am a Prince and a Royal High ness." "Oh!" "Will you do me a favor?" "With Joy" "Never call roe 'Royal Highness. " "Yes, but" "It is bad enough that I must hear it forever from others. From you I do not wish to hear that terrible 'Royal High ness.' " "Well, then. But now eat raspberries." "Will you eat, too?" "Certainly." They were Indeed excellent, so fresh from tho bush. I ale and ate the sweet, dark-red fruit. At once heaven alone knows how it happened I had kissed the girl on her sweet, dark-red mouth. And I whispered: ."Dear, dear Judical" I had kissed the angelic. Innocent child that Jr meant not to touch with a breathl Aiul with the kiss came to me the knowl edge Jtbat once drovo the first human be ings out of Paradise, the knowledge of my first guilt! After I had done It I stared at her as If the pale child with the holy eyes had changed into a punishing nngel of the LorJ, to send me a ay with flamming sword from the place whsro the man had been Innocent and happy, and then had sinr.sd. If I had been any ordinary young lover, then, yea. then I could have stolen a kb-s from the lips of my dearest ono as I would pick a ripe fruit from the bush. But wKh me the kiss on the Hps of tho girl was an evil deed. Judica had given a little scream. Her basket fell from her arms and the berries scattered ever the ground. With loosely hanging arms she stood with eyes closed, and trenibl d. I could have crushed her to my breast and smothered her with kl&ies bo helpless was she. Her helplessness gave me my balance again. I did not Implore foreglvenr u., for that would have been empty talk. It had happened, and I mi: si accept what further would come of It. A If she were awakening from a heavy dieum, she sighed and opened her eyes. Then she saw the empty basket and stiopej to pick up the scattered fruit. Since the ranpborries bad fallen to ths ground through my fault 1 stooped to help her. H it she said: "Your Royal Highness must not trouble." That she addressed mi thus at this moment gave me the punishment that I deserved. She gathered the berries carefully. I stood there dumb. She hod barely finished when her name was called by Mbi Krlta. J utile a took up her basket, turned without a word and started. I called after her. But I said nothing more than: Judica! I.lttle Judical Dear little ' Judk-a!" The tone ta which I said tt must have told her not only my deep love, but my Imploring wish for pardon. She stood still, turned her little head and looked at me. Around- tbe mouth on which my lips had pressed there pTayed a gentle. In finitely sweet, Infinitely sad smile, and the eyes of the child were full of tears. But she had forgiven, me. I left the garden by a distant gate and strolled carelessly toward the arbor. There Miss Frits and the Count were waiting. She told me that Judica had complained of headache and had retired. . I said: "Convey my compliments to her and" I stammered, "And what?" "And I shall come again. I shall come again soon. It is too beautiful here; I feel myself too happy with you." Then I had to wash my hands, reddened with raspberry juice. I hated to do it It was as If I were washing something of the Joy of the day from my soul. I asked Count rjebhardt: "Do not leave any money for the servants, I would not pay the pleasure of this day with money. I shall be able to think of something else. Yon will fulfill my wish, will you not?" "Gladly." He said It so sadly that I my guilty heart beat fast asked him If something troubled htm. He said: "I was with Lolnl'8 mother." "And that has made you sad? That and something else." "Please tell me later of your visit. I do not wish to hear anything sad now. Surely you understand me." And I added: "You are so young yourself." Certainly he understood me. My words were confession. I did not wish to hear anything sad, but I had to see his mournful look, for what would come of It, my first love? VIII. On the Sea-Alp. What will como of It? I know not and wish not to know it. I can think of only one thing, how can I see her again? It ia tbe only thing of which I can think. Since I am young and In love, I feel a great desire to help others. So I thought of helping Loisl. I spoke of it to Count Gebhardt "You have not told me of your visit to "Loisl's mother. Can I help the woman?" "In which way could Your Royal High ness help her?" "I request your advice." "The woman has a fate that is stronger than her mind, which is shattered. Shu is mad." "On account of an unfaithful lover?" "Yes." "A peasant woman loses her mind on ac count of such things?" "This ono did." The count bore an expression and spoke In a tone as If he were pursuing a definite aim In regard to me. It seemed to me as if he wished the conversation to bo a warn ing for me. A warning of what? That no young, loving woman should be driven out of her mind through my fault? In order to say something I remarked: "Loisl docs not know his father. I should like to help him to a position an forester, that he may bo able to marry his sweetheart." "It would be easy, for he can count absolutely on influence." "Why so absolutely? You have some thing to tell. May you tell me?" "I am usking myself whether or not I may." "J.et me help ycu. Is It your hope, if you dared to speak, to save me from some thing?" "Yes." "Then, If you are my friend, you will speak. But I cannot understand what my Loisl and his poor, mad mother can have in common with my concerns." "His mother is said to have been the most beautiful girl In all these moun tains." "So I have heard." "A great man saw her." "A great man!" "Yes." "Then the betrayer of the girl Is known?" "It Is an open secret" "Only the son does not know?" "The folk dare not tell him. "They dure not?" And suddenly a terrible thought came to me. My father had often dwelled here as Crown Prince. The Sea-Alp was his favorite place. He was young then, and Crown Prince. I dared not think farther. Nothing may touch the holy form of the Monarch. But that it had to cost the poor thing's sanity! Count Gebhardt spoke now: "The girl was a proud creature. She thought her lover was a hunter of the Crown Prince. She dwelled high up on the White Emperor and never came down from her lonely home, bo that it was easy to deceive her Into the belief that she was the bride of a young man who would marry her in the next year. Immediately after the chamois hunting ended, the Crown Prince departed, and the girl's lover sent her no further wont. She wrote to him and the letter came back with tbe note; 'Address unknown.' Then she went on foot to the residence, and at the Royal Palace she asked for the hunter, Matthias K linger. But no one knew such a one. "Then she went out silently and stood on the street. She saw a carriage drive into the courtyard. In It sat two gentle men. And one of them waa this same Matthias Klluger. Everybody saluted and the troops formed In parade. After a while the girl went back into the courtyard and said to those who would not let her pass: " "He Is In the palace now, and 1 will go to him.' "They had to take her away by force. And she got a pension that protects her against misery at least such misery as hunger and cold." With no word had the Count touched on tho person that must not be touched. The betrayer could be sought, If 1 wlshe I, in the train of the Crown Prince. Have I written yet that the pale i h:l I has eyes the color of gentians And lo.ig, dark, silken lashes over tho. gentian blue eyes? On thope gentian-blue eyes . should have kissed her instead of her red mouth. Ths Bin would have been great even so. But as I committed it, it was sweeler. No wrong shall come from It. That I have sworn. But something else may come from it, something over which I have no power, which I cannot hinder with my oath. It may become a calamity. I will see Judica again, but I will never touch her lips or spread out my arms for her. I will love her and become unhappy. But if only I do not make her unhappy. Gebhardt has made his report. What ho wrote I do not know. I do not wish to know. Tomorrow we shall visit Miss Frits. Per haps it will be for the last time, for p rhapii they will order my departure. At any rate I shall give a little foist on the Rca Alp before I go. Tt probably will be a farewell feast. I will have to cay good-bye to more than the splendid Mlsj Frits and the pale girl with the holy eyes. So bo It Judica loves me. I thought always of myself, only of myself, only that I love her, that I mii"t renounce her, that I would beco.ne wretched. Strangely, I never thought that who mlht love me; not even then when I thought of the Royal Prince who loved her. Judica loves me! She has not confessed It, but I know It I am loved so deeply by tho sweet being that she would givo her llfo for mo with a thousand Joys. Mad phantasy! Whj do I tiso. In the midst of my happiness, the simile of sacri fice for her lovo for me? When Count Gebhardt and I arrived on tho alpino farm a sei ond tlmo tho w hole place was as if dead. Not even tho dog was to bo seen. But nt last we found an old woman and She told us that everybody had gone to tho wheat Held to reap, and that even tho noonday meal was to be cooked there. When wo ariTlved there a great welcom ing chorus met us. Happily no Iord Mar shal was In the vicinity to perceive a danger for the State of Denmark In this familiarity. The Joy of tho people maids and serving men was a suspicious evldenco of that popularity, which is something that may exist only for tho King and the Holr Apparent I hdard the shouts and was glad. But I had eyes only for the little glrlltih figure in the black mourning dress. I observed very well that Bhe started at Bight ol me. Then she stood motionless and seemed to be uncertain about something. At once she ran straight to me, slipping like a fairy through the sheaves. My first thought was: "She Is glad to see you. That la very nice. But it would be better If she were not so openly glad. It you were dear to her, she would not let everybody see her Joy." And her Joy, that showed her to be at once so good and so Innocent, disappointed me. I felt suddenly sad, quite unhappy. Then she stood before me; and then then I saw in her eyes that she had thought of me ever and ever, as I of her; that Bhe Lad longed for me as I for her; that she loved me as I did her. In the golden sun we stood and looked fnto each other's eyes. As In a dream I heard the cheers of the reapers. Heaven knows what would havo happened, had I not beard Gephardt's voice close behind me: "Here comes Miss Frits." From his tone I perceived that he knew what had happened, and that he would not destroy our short happiness. For it wajt only a summer night's dream. Miss Frits made us heartily welcome; but she expressed horror, lauglilngly, at her predicament In not being r.blj to give us anything to eat. Yet sho soon bethought herself of a certain noble floating car full of trout, and Judica, little Judica, found the key to It She ran to the wagon, got a great earthen pot. and ran across the fields ta the brook without looking to sen If I followed. Of course. I ran after her, without caring for anybody's opinion, Breathless, ws reached the stream, Ia O little cove flouted the big wooden flsh receptacle. Judlc.i unlocked It, threw back the heavy lid, and a swarm of big and little, gaudily spotted trout shot mer rily about. Busily Judica filled the pot with water, put It down, and then tried to catch the swift things. We had no net and hud to flsli with our hands. To do that we hud to lie down. Catching trout, even If they arc In a cage. Is mil so easy ns one might think. Kvery other moment, just us it had been during the raspheny picking. I held the child's cool, white hand turtcid of a tlsh. I rcully did try to catch trout, but I always caught the hand. Judica warned me: "You must not try to telxe them so quickly. I,ct us hold our hands quietly In tho water for n time, move them slowly toward u corner where the most flsh urn, nnil then we will seiz,- them quickly, very quickly, so that tl.ey oinnot escape." True. And I followed her command ex nctly. What did 1 catch? Not a flsh, but her hand, which, obedient to her order, 1 held fust, so that it could not escae. The fishing lasted half an hour. By that time we hud six tine trout In the dish. That was three for each, and I was proud. Indeed. But rsspberry picking was much easier and more productive, too, considering that one stole a sweet, red fruit from soft, red, girlish !lw. Of course, neither of us could lienr to end the flapping little lives. So we had to carry them alive, ind thus could go only very slowly, because the big dish had to lie carried carefully. At the forest's edge the Count met us, and my glance thanked him again: with out doubt he had stood there during ths whole time. In cider not to k-kiII my llsh lng. He was not even surprised that It required so long to eutcli llsli that had already been caught. Miss Fritz hud every t!.rnt ready, even to the liolllng water In a pet hung over an open lire. She seemed thoughtful and eon cerned, very much concerned. B'lt JJ could not help her. (To Be Continued.) Uilcy's Famous Scoop J. Oscar Henderson, former auditor of state, ami at one time one of the owners of the Kokomo Dispatch, recently had rs chat about' old times with his former conV trlhutor, James Whltcomb Riley. Incl- dentally the subject of the big "scoop" which Mr. ltllcy engineered for him be foro Mr. ltllcy had published any of hist poetry In volume form was discussed. Mr. Riley was at that tlmo plain J. W Riley. "If was before I unjolnted m name," said tho Hoosier poet In his char acterlstlc phrase. "That was a piece of literary scalawag gery which I began to feci a little ashamed of after It had progressed awhile. "I thought I would hook a sucker, bub Instead of this I inagged a whale. "At that time I was contributing poemf Weekly to tho Anderson Democrat. Thing wero dull with the newspapers, and tb question had been discussed whether theJ name of an author had much to do with) tho success of his poems. In order to test! my theory I wrote a poem to which I at' temrled to givo a tang of the stylo of Toe, and sent it to tho Anderson Domo- crat. Accompanying tho poem wnH tt state- ment by the editor that tho poem had beenj found In the fly leaf of an old book nmt that anyone who wished to nee the original could do so by calling nt the office. "People began to call and It became necessary to produce the manuscript. I had a friend who was an artist, and we collected such of Poe's writings as could be foupd and made an Imitation of his manuscript In faded Ink. "I came out in tho Anderson Democrat with a compliment to the poem, and cf course everybody knew then that J. W. Riley could not have written It. "Well, that poem soon lie cam o a whits elephant on our hands, and after we had used It for a basis of numerous 'scoops' the secret of Its origin was finally dls closed. "It served the purpose for which It was Intended nnd I proved my point. "I was amused recently to receive a marked copy of un eastern paper in which one of tho admirers and close students of Poe bud found the fake manuscript I had written, and not knowing that It was not genuine hud given tho poem minute study, and from Internal evidence In the poe.in hod discovered when In Poe's life tt had been written. Columbus (O.) Press. To Cheapen a Portrait Old Uncle Ben wanted to have his per trait painted, but he did not cars to pay very much for It "Surely that Is a very large sum, Tt aid when the artist named the price. The artist protested and assured him that, as portraits went, that was very Uttls to ask. Uncle Ben hesitated. "Well," he said at length, "how much will It be If I furulak the paintf IJpplncott's Magazine,