Search billions of records on
Sheboygan County, Wisconsin Genealogy & History

This page is part of the site located at There is no charge or fee to access this site or any information on it. If you have arrived here from somewhere else, such as a pay site, and are in a frame, you can click the above url to access this page directly.

This Story was transcribed & Contributed by: Laurie Broetzmann

The Rose

By Edna B. Carthaus

Great is the excitement going on in the Manor house, for today is the funeral of Lord DeVere. He leaves a daughter about eighteen years of age, who is the heiress of all that he possessed.

She is a beautiful girl, has a very fair complexion, beautiful eyelashes, and hair that is chestnut brown.

She is sitting by the side of her father's coffin (she makes a beautiful picture as she sits there, such as artists delight in painting). She is sobbing and uttering these words, "I am alone now and have nobody to care for me." All at once she hears some one say, "Do not say that, for I am here to take care of you." As she looks up she sees a very handsome man looking at her; it is her father's second cousin, Captain Shaw. "Oh, Captain Shaw!" she exclaimed, "I thought I was here alone!" "You were until a few minutes ago; but my dear girl, you will make yourself ill always sobbing and crying. Come with me, and we will go down and have a walk in the garden." She went.

* * * * * * * * * *

It is three weeks after the funeral. Captain Shaw is walking in the woods; he is very sad for he is thinking of Rose (for that is the name of Lord DeVere's daughter.) Since the funeral he has learned to love her dearly, and now he must leave her, for duty calls him. He would like to give her something-something that would show his love for her. Jewelry? No, for she would not care for that for she has plenty.

As he still walks along he spies a flower in the distance. He walks toward it and his first thoughts are, "How much that flower reminds me of Rose, for it has the tint of her cheeks, and above all, it looks so pure and simple, like my Rose."

He then plucked he flower and carried it to Rose and said, "Rose, I found this flower in the woods. I give it to you because I love you, and it means love. I do not know its name but we will call it the rose for it reminds me of you." Ever after this the flower was called the rose, and it has always meant love.

(Note: This story was included in the booklet, The Origin of Flowers, which was written in June 1906)

Return to the Diaries, Journals & Stories Page

Return to the Sheboygan Page

If you have any question, e-mail Debie

Copyright 1997 - 2009 by Debie Blindauer
All Rights Reserved