King Midas

chen,

eb' ic

o that the latter, and the few others who keep something in their hearts to chime with the great spring-music, have the woods and waters all for their own for two joyful months, from the time that the first snowy bloodroot has blossomed, until the wild rose has faded and nature has no more to say. In those t

lk within their silences. There was not much there to tell of the springtime, for the pines are unsympathetic, but it seemed as if all the more wealth had been flung about on the carpeting beneath. Where the

e no flowers; and who, whenever he stopped to gaze at a group of them, left them unmolested in their happiness. He was tall and slenderly built, w

came to a little streamlet which flowed through the forest, taking for its bed the fairest spot in that wonderland of beauty. It fled from rock to rock covered with the brightest of bright green moss and with tender fern that was but half uncurled, and i

seen. Beside the spring thus formed the young man seated himself, and after glancing impatiently at his watch, turned his gaze upon the beauty that was about him. Upon the neighboring rocks the columbine and harebell held high revel, but he did not notice them so much as a new sight that flashed upon his eye; for the pool

ding to a little town which lay in the distance. The landscape was beautiful in its morning freshness, but it was not that which the young man thought of; he had given but one glance before he started back with a slight exclamation, his face turning paler. He stepped into the concealment of the thick b

ttle path turned off towards the forest. In the meantime he stood waiting anxiously; for when she reached there he would see her plainly for the first time, and also know if she were coming to the spring. She must have stopped to look

she walked; and it had stolen one strand of her golden hair to toss about and play with. She came with all the eagerness and spring of the brooklet that danced beside her, her cheeks glowing with health and filled wit

me; or perhaps he saw the maiden. At any rate, he perched himself upon the topmost leaf of the maple tree, still half-flying, as if scorning even that much support; and there he sang his song. First he gave his long prelude that one does not often hear-a few notes a score of times repeated, and growing swift and loud, and more and more strenuous and insistent; as sometimes the orchestra builds up its climax, so that the listener holds his br

stronger she stretched out her arms to it and half leaned upon it and flung her head back for the very fullness of her happiness. The wind tossed her skirts about her, and stole another tress of hair, and swung the lily which she had plucked and which she carried in her hand. It is o

lanced up again at the bobolink, who had ceased his song; she nodded to him once as if for a challenge, and then,

a streaml

t its r

the valle

and clear

the forest echo. The bobolink listened and then flew on to listen again, while still the girl poured out her breathless music, a mad volley of soaring melody; it seemed fairly to lift her from her feet, and sh

contrast than the darkness and silence which dwelt beneath the vast canopy, and she gazed about her in rapture, first at the trees and then at the ro

ul!" she cried aloud.

r rather blended themselves as a halo about one thing, the face of this girl. For it was one of those faces that a man may see once in a lifetime and keep as a haunting memory ever afterwards

ing about at the forest; then she chanced to look towa

emed to suggest another thought to her, and she looked around. As she did so she caug

n his arms; but then recollecting himself he came forward v

, Helen, do you?" he

ear, foolish boy, of course I recollect you.

re to see

stopped, and a look of delight swept across her face. "

o in

ul!" she exclaimed. "I

looking at each other, and then suddenly another thought struck the girl. "Arthur," sh

, He

st to s

, He

his mo

welve miles," she exclaimed; "who ever heard

hand, which he t

n she had seated herself, with the marigolds and the lily in her lap. "It will seem just like old times; just think how long ago it was

s face flushed

ld path, and seeing all the old sights! Things haven't changed a bit, Arthur; the woods look exactly the same, and the bri

y," was t

you now, Arthur,-twenty-one-no, twenty-two; and I

forgotten

now. For I thought the old trees greeted me, and the bridge, and the stream! And I'm sure that was the same bobolink! They don

first," sa

! I don't think I ever felt so like singing before; they make hard work out of singing and everything else in Germa

other, seriously

rful things that you'll never have another chance to hear. For I was just going to make a speech to the forest, and I think I should

try," said Art

write your memoir and tell all I knew about you. Tell me about yourself,

inished college last spring, as I wrote

ou lik

alive, to try to be a poet. And

d had never made anything beautiful! And since I've been away that dreadful Mrs. Dale has gotten complete charge of the church, and she's one of those creatures that wouldn't allow you to burn a candle in the organ loft; and father never was of any use for quarreling about things." (Helen's father, the Reverend Austin Davis, was the rector of the little Episcopal church in the town of Oakdale just across the fields.) "I only arrive

l hear the rest of the choir," vowed the young man, who during

nging the marigolds; now she was drying them with he

while she bent her head down at that task. "Do

just as I did then," was the

annot sing his own songs! Don't you know that if you could sing and make yourself gloriously ha

eve that,"

nything about it, and all their groaning and pining for inspiration was nothing in the world but a need of some music; I was reading the 'Palace of Art' only the other day, and there was that '

admitted the young poet. "I shall

me a poem about that brook, for one thing. I was thinking just as I came down the road that

o write one," said the

?" aske

es

make some music for it;

he

remember it," sai

"I wrote it two or three months ago, wh

e papers, and then in a low tone

MID

en of th

haa borne

my heart

pringti

ams shrink

e froze

he fores

s but o

ee, happy

murest o

in troubl

aming of

where in

st so fai

hast joy a

gh the wi

en she said, "I think that is beautifu

ot?" h

but now the spring has come, and we must be

the streamlet has led m

one thing he may never trust in a woman. "It could not be more beautiful," she added, "and you must write me something a

at that, and Helen, after gazing at him for a momen

about all sorts of things, and forgetting the springtime al

m to remain dull very long in the presence of the girl's glowing energy; for once upon her feet, Helen's dancing mood seemed to come back to her, if indeed it had ever more than half lef

all so beautiful; it is just as if the country had put on its finest dress to give me greeting, and I feel as if I were not half gay enough in return.

e forest and the flowers, and some more of the merry song which she had sung before; then she stopped to shake her head at a saucy adder's tongue that thrust its yellow face up through the dead leaves at her feet, and to ask that wisest-looking of all flowers what secrets it knew about the spring-time. Later on they c

osing more open fields and a village beyond. "We'd better not go any farther," said Helen, laughing; "if

him to a seat upon a fallen log nearby. "Poor boy," s

ference," was the reply;

n, "for I've seen all that I wish to see. Ho

uld not tell you how many times I have walked over it, all alone, since you left; and I used t

said

t o

t o

is head upon his hand and g

pped; and she turned with her bri

what?" s

the last time w

d half involuntarily tur

e asked again, seein

her voice lower-"But I'd rather

rget it, Helen?

went on, his voice breaking. "Do you not remember the last night that we sat there by the spring, and you were going away, n

had sunk down upon his knee before her, and he ca

e has been the one joy of my life, that for which I have labored so

, the girl sprang to her feet, s

; "Arthur, you must

t not,

dren, and we did not know the meaning of the words

protested,

back as he started towards her, and holding close to her the hand

pped, bre

been so kind to me?" t

as but a child when I went away. I wish you still to

n he saw the stern look upon her face he b

watched him, her chest ceased gradually to heave, and a gentler l

r another silence, "can

and she saw that there were tears in his eyes, and a look of mute helpl

his must not be; we must not s

imed the other

pped short. The girl gazed about her, and

and see old Mrs. Woodward, who was asking for me. You may wait here, if you l

e was trying to read the girl's heart, but he

t, Arthur?" s

lifted it again, the girl was gone; she had disappeared in the thicket,

g about her skirts and tossing the lily again. As Arthur watched her, the old music came back into his heart; his eyes sparkled, and all his soul seemed to be dancing in time with her light motion. Thus it went until

his hand to his forehead, which was flushed and hot, and he gazed about him, as if he were not sur

e was far away from the path, in a desolate spot, but tho he was staring around him, he saw no more than before. Trembling had seized his limbs, and he sank down upon the yello