The Huron Signal, 1881-03-25, Page 21 LIFE FOR 1 LIFE.
NY Nes IMULecs
CHAPTER XiXIII.
Hie sTvay.
1 had a third reason. Sometimes I
feared, by word. Penelope dropped, that
she and my father had laid their heads
together coucerning me and my wast
health, and imagined things which were
net true. No; 1 repeat, that was all; I
ahould have recovered iu time. If I
were not quite happy, I should have re-
covered from that also in time. I
shoul dnot have broken my heart.
Nu one ought who has still another
good heart to believe in; no one need
who has neither done wrong nor been
wronged. So it seemed necessary -or I
fancied it so, thinking over all things
during the long, wakeful night -that,
not for my own sake alone, I should
rouse thyself, and try and get well as
soon as possible.
Therefore I made no objections to
what, on some accounts, was to me an
excessively painful thing -a visit to the
Cedars.
Pain or no pain, it was to be, and it
was done. I lay in a dream of exhaus-
tion, which felt like peace, in the little
sitting -room, which looked on the fami-
liar view -the lawn, the sun -dial, the
boundary of evergreen bushes, and farth-
er off, the long, narrow valley, belted by
fir -topped hills standing out sharp against
the western sky.
Mrs. Granton bustled in and out, and
did everything for`me as tender as if she
had been my mother.
When we are sick and weak, to find
comfort; when we are sore at heart, to be
surrounded by love; when, at five -and -
twenty, the world looks blank and drea-
ry, to see it looking bright and sunshiny
at sixty -this does one good. If I said
I loved Mrs. Granton, it but weakly ex-
pressed what I owed and now owe her -
more than she is ever likely to know.
I had been a day and a night at the
Cedars without seeing any one except
the dear old lady, who watched me in-
cessantly, and administered perpectual
doses of "kitchen physic," promising me
faithfully that, if 1 continued improving,
the odious face of Dr. Black should never
cross the.threahold of the Cedar's.
"But for all that, it would be more
satisfactory tome if you would .consent
to see • medical friend of mine, my
dear."
Sickness sharpens our senses,, making
nothing seem sudden or unnatural. 1.
knew as well as if she had told me who
it was she wanted me to see -who was.
even now at the parlor door. .
Dr. Urquhart came in and sett down
beside my sofa,' I do not remember any
thing that was said or done by any of us,
except that I felt him sitting there, and
heard him in his familiar voice talking
to Mrs. Granton about the pleasant view
from this low window, and the sun-
shiny morning, and the blackbird that
was solemnly hopping about under the
•un -dial.
I will not deny it -why should I I-
the mere tone of his , voice, the mere
smile of his eyes filled my. irhole soul
with peace. I neither knew how he had
Dome nor why. I did not want to,know;
I only knew he was there, and in his
presence I was like a child who hes been
very forlorn and is now taken care of -
very. hungry and is satisfied.
Some one calling Mrs. Granton out of
the room, heiuddenly turned and asked
me "how long I had been
I answered briefly, then said, in reply
t., farther questions, that I believed it
was fever and ague, caught in the moor?
land cottage., but that I was fast reoov-
ering; indeed I was almost well again
now.
"Are you 7" Give me your hand."
Ile felt my pulse, counting it by his•
watch. It did not beat much like a con-
valescent then, I know. "I vee Mre.
Granton in the garden; I must have a
little talk with her about you."
He went out of the room abruptly,and
soon after I saw them walking together
up and down the terrace. Dr. Urqu-
hart only came to me again to bid me
good -by.
But after that we saw him every day
for a week.
He used to appear at uncertain hours,
sometimes forenoon, sornetones evening,
but faithfully, if ever w. late, he came.
I had sot been aware he was thus inti-
mate at the Clan, and one day, when
Mn. Gratton was speaking him, I hap-
pened to say so.
She smiled.
"Yes, certainly, his coming here daily
is a new thing, though 1 was always
glad to see him, he was gen kind to my
Colin. But, in troth, my deer, if I must
let out the secret, he now comes to see
"Me'" 1 was glut of the dim light
we eat in, and horribly ashamed of my-
self when the old laity . ooit'need , mat-
ter of fort and grime
"Yes, you, by my apectal desire,
tbeingh he onstsssited willingly to attend
rem, for he takes • maid kindly interest
in yen H• was afraid of your being
left to Dr Black. whom in his hear
Mlieve he e.onseden an .Id humbug
,ggskie,ypep( he..n.rht love •
THE HURON SIGNAL, FRIDAY, MARCH 25, 1881.
sure he Walesa has to ms mowed you ist
every possible way that could). done
without your finding it out,,- You are
not offended, my &It r
"1 can't think Weill see spall menage
about his fees; still jr Iwould have been
wrong to have refuset brie hindmost au
well -meant and so debealsely give.. 1
ant sure he has the gentlest ways and
the tenderest heart of any man I ever
knew. Don't you think s, !"
"Yes."
But, for all that, after the first week,
I did not progress so fast as they two
expected -also papa and Penelope, who
came over to see me, and seemed equal-
ly satisfied with Dr. Urquhert's " kind-
ness. " Perhaps this very " kindness,
as I, like the rest, now believed it, made
things • little more trying for me. Or
else the disease -the fever and ague -
had taken a firmer hold on me than any-
body knew. Some day. 1 felt ea if
health was a long way off. in fact, not
visible at all in this mortal life ; and the
possibility seemed sometimes easy to
bear sometimes hard. I had many
changes in mood and temper, very sore
to struggle against; for all of which now
I humbly crave forgiveness id my dear
and kind friends, who were so patient
with me, and of Him, the most merciful
of all.
Dr. Urquhart came daily, as I have
said. We had often very long talks to-
gether, sometimes with Mn. Granton,
sometimes alone. He told me of all his
doings and plans, and gradually brought
me out of the narrow sick -room world
into which I was falling, toward the cur-
rent of outward life, with its large aims,
duties, and cares. The interest of it
roused me ; the power and beauty of it
strengthened me. All the dreams of my
youth, together with one I had dreamed
that evening by the moorland pool,
came back again I sometimes longed
for life, that I might live as he did ; in
any manner, anywhere, at any sacrifice,
so that it was a life in some way resem-
bling and not unworthy of his own. This
sort of life -equally solitary, equally
painful, devoted more to duty than to
joy -was, heaven knows, all I then
thought possible. And I still think
with it, and with my thorough reverence
and trust in him, and his sole, special,
unfailing afeotion for me, I could have
been content all my days.
My spirit was brave enough, but some-
times my heart was weak. When we
have been accustomed to rest on any
other-to.find_each day the tie become
more lentiliar, more necessary, belonging
to daily life, end'dailyleant-to feel the
house empty, as it were, till there comes
the ruig at; the tloot or step in tint
hall -
and to be aware that all **cannot last,
that it must come to an end, and ,ore
must go back to the old, 'old life, shut
up in one's self, with no arse to le.o on,
no smile to brighten and toilsome, no
voice to say, ii You are tight, do it, " tea'
" There 1C think you are wrong" then
one grows frightened.
When 1 thought of his going to Liver-
pool, my Courage broke down.• I would
hide my head in my pillow of nights, and
say to myself, " Theodora, you are a
coward ; will net the good God make you
strong enough by yourself, even for any
Bert of life He requires of you 7 Leave
shin his Lands." So I tried to do ; be-
lievingihat, from any feeling that was
holy and innocent, He would not allow
me to suffer more thin I could bear, or
inure than is good for all of us to suffer
at times.
(I did not mean to write thus ; I meant
only to tell my outward story ; but such
as is written, let it be --I am not asham-
ed of it.)
Thus things. went'on,and I did nut
get stronger.
One Saturday afternoon Mrs. Granton
went a lung drive, to see some family in
whom Dr. Urquhart had made her take
an interest ; if, indeed, there was need
to do more than mention any one's being
in trouble, in the dear wonae's hearing
in order to unseal a whole torrent of be-
nevnlenee. The peeople's name was Aus-
dell ; they were strangers, belonging to
the camp : there was a daughter dying of
consumption. '
It wait one df soy lirlk:days, wild I lay
thinking how much useless sentiment is
wasted upon the young who die ; how
much vain regret at their being se early
removed from theewjmyments they share,
and the good they are doing, when
they often do no goad, and
hare little joy to lupe. Take, for
instance, Mrs Osanton and me ; if
Death hesitated between us, I know
which he had better choose ; the one
who had leaeje.p}asu .v.i. living, and
who woulahh .**.spored- who, from»
either sive.—or. is* or some inherelit�
faults w'11feNfiedoiie almost equal to a
fate, had lived twent-five years without
being of the s•ml:leet Dee to a.ybody ;
and to whom th:e h«sot That routs happen,
would apparently be t•i he taught up in
the arms of the Greet Reaper, and sown
afresh in a new world, to begin again.
Let me onnfoal' all this- (weause it ex -
Pities the mood which 1 tf$rr+mard 7 .
traye•d . and because it noised me to find
sit that i was not the only person int.
whose mind inch wicked thoughts have
tome 0, h. memorised down banked
down. Kneed dpwn
to be lying pea anally ua the sola,
esde is Reality ssu.seint down all u, a
heap, wttk* t1lllseusell envie of the fire-
light BsissiL-Wpsia usevy dark- so
dark that tl•*arage w•nflid have fright-
ened me, amity spo-
tree clow at 1Nd r sal er evil spirits,
such as come about us all in our dark
days. Still the silence was so ghostly
that when the dor opened 1 slightly
screamed.
" Do not be afraid. h is only I. "
1 was shaken bunds with ; and 1 apo-
k,gtxed for having been so started. Dr.
Urquhart said it was he who ought to
apologias, but he had knocked, and I
did not answer, sad he had walked in,
being " aaxion& " Thea he spoke
about other things, and I soon became
myself, and sat listening, with my eyes
closed, till, suddenly seeing hint, I sew
him looking at me
" You have been worse to -day f"
" It was my bad day r
" I wiah I could see you really bet-
ter. '
"Thank yuu.
My eyes closed again -all things
seemed dim and far off, as if my life
were floating away, and I had no care
to seize hold of tt-easier to let it
go.
" My patient does not do me touch
credit. When do you intend to honor
me by reo,venng, Miss Theodora?"
" I don't know ; it does not much
matter. " It wearied me to answer oven
him.
He rose, walked up and down the
room several times and returned to hi.
place.
" Miss Theodora, I wish to sey a few
words to you seriously, about your
health. I should like to see you better
-very much better than now -before I
go away.
" Possibly you may. "
" in any case you will have to take
great care --tea be taken great care of 1
for months to come. Your health is
very delicate. Are you aware of that e'
"I suppose so. "
' • You must listen—"
The tone roused me.
" If you please, you must listen, to
what I am saying. Itis useless telling
any one else, but I tell you, that if you
do nut take care of yourself you will
din
I looked up. Nu one but he would
have said such • thing to me -if he said
it, it must be true.
Du you know that it is wrong to die
--to let year.elf carelessly slip .out of
God's world. in which He put you to do
good work there 7"
" I have no work to do.-
" None of is can say that, Yoiu'
J ought not -you shall not. I will not al.
1 low it. "
His words struck me. There was
truth in them -the truth of my first
youth, though both hand faded in after
years -till I knew him. And this was
I why I clung to this friend of mine, be-
cause amid all the shams and falsenesses
around me, and even in myself -in him
I ever found found, clearly acinowledg-
ed, and bravely outspoken- the truth.
Why should he not help me now r I
A Humbly i asked him, " if he were
angry with me C'
" Not angry, but grieved ; you little
know how deeply. "
Was it for my dying, or my wickedly
wishing to die 7 I knew not ; but that
he was strongly affected, more even than
he liked me to see, I did see, and it
lifted the atone Rom my heart.
" i know i have been very wicked. If
any one would thoroughly scold me -if
I cook' only tell anybody---"
" Why cannot Tom tell met"
So I told him, as far as I could, all the
dark thoughts that had been troubling
me this day. I laid upon him all my
sins ; and when I ended, not without
agitation, for I had never spoken of my-
self to any creature before, Dr. Urquhart
talked to me long and gently upon the
things wherein he considered me wrong
in myself and in my home ; and of other
things where he .thought 1 was only
" fooiish, " or " mistaken. " Then ho
spoke of the mainfold chaise I had in
life ; of the glory and beauty of living;
M the pews attainable even in this
world, by a life, which, if ever so sad
and diffleolt, hes dome the hest it could
with the materials granted to it --has
walked, se far as it onuld see, in its ap-
priinteeA course, and' left the rewarding
and the brightening ef it solely in the
'Wide of Him who gave it ; who never
gives anything in vain. •
This was hi ee serums -ate, last ,
1 afterward WWI if; litimmicir all. Nos
aid very gimp?yi,
hi hind bean lalkttlehit11 a` tekikt.,, '4t
dh: «i1 Olt; r iook'ilitit M g * . sad.
'4itt dr W.& ; anal ae6Ytied as its
mallet & in as I .was, with i* 7t. enough'
doubtless Oat' t alta
knew though thet.rg.f riff tl.ellnity:: lflt
publish them herb -I lriiw iiilbes..M
had beeni. et eat nr iso r
thanked neini, be'aMtie�fio;sl.4iilii>'
sent us each to •CSS '•Ijat, ' • ,p;
t or
For what ahap44,,pg. reqs et
1
when 1 asked his low be came to i=
tell these good thime, Mut also girdling
'Ism of then 1 learned from Ton r'
lief 1 east, i. awzement
- na.konaimr t ri vtta..I, '
hurriedly, and immedist sly began talking
toe about, and informing me- -as he
had now got • habit of duing--exaetly
how his aSarre stood. Now they were
nearly wound up: and it became needful
he should leave the camp, and begin his
new duties by a certain day.
After a little inure talk he fixed -or
rather, we fixed, for he ',eked rue to di-
cide-that day; brietiy, as if it had been
like any other day in the year; and
quietly as if it had not involved the total
ending for the present, with an indefinite
future, of all this -what shall 1 call it 1 --
between him and rue, which, to one at
least, had become as natural and necess-
ary as daily bread.
Thinking now of that two or three
minutes of silence which followed -I
could be very sorry for myself -far more
so than then; fur then I hardly felt it at
all.
Dr. Urquhart rose and said he must
go -he could not wait longer fur Mrs.
Granton.
"Thursday week is the day, then," he
added, "after which I shall not see you
again for many months."
"I suppose not."
"I cannot write to you. I wish 1
could; but such a correspondence would
no£ be pooesible, would not be right. '
"I think I said mechanically, "No."
I was standing by the mantle -piece,
steadying myself with one hand, the
other dropping down. Dr. Urquhart
touched it for a second.
"It is the very thinnest hand I ever
saw 7 You will remember," he then
said, "in case this should be our haat
chance of talking together -you will re-
member all we have been saying'? You
will do all you can to recover perfect
health, so as to be happy and useful 7
You will never think despondingly of
your life; there is many a life much
harder than yours; you will have patience
and faith and hope, as a girl uught to
have, who is so precious to -many !
Will you promise 7"
"I will."
"Good -by, then."
"Good -by."
Whether he took my hands, or I gay
them, 1 do not know: but I felt them
held tight against his breast, and him
looking at me as if he could not part
with me, or as if, before we parted, he
was compelled to tell me something. But
when I looked up at him we seemed of a
sudden to understand everything with-
out need of telling. He only said four
words --"Is this my wife 1" And I said,
"Yes. -
Then -he kissed me.
Once I used to like reading and hear-
ing all about love and lovers, what they
said and how they looked, and how happy
they were in ono another. Now, it
seems as if these things ought never to
be read or told by any mortal tongue or
pen. -
When Max went sway I sat Where 1
was, almost without stirring, for a. whole
hour, until. Mrs. Granton came in and
gave me the history of her drive, and all
about Lucy Ansdell, who had died that
aftern•on. Poor girl -poor girl !
CHAPTER _- .XIV.
HER RTUlt . •
Here, between the locked leaves of
my journal, I keepthe first letter I ever
had from Max.
It came early in the morning, the
morning after that evening which will
always seem to us two, I think, some-
thing like what we read of, that "the
evening and the morning were the first
day." It was, indeed, like the first day
of a new world.
When the letter carie I was still fast
asleep, for I had not gone and lain awake
all night, which, under the circumstances
(as I told Max), it was a young lady's
duty to have done; 1 only laid my head
down with a feeling of ineffable rest -
rest in Heaven's kindness, which had
brought all things to this end -and rest
in his love, from which nothing now
could ever thrust me, and in the thought
of which I went sleep, as safe as a tired
child; knowing i should be safe for all
my life long with him -my Max -my
husband.
"Lover" was a word that did not seem
to suit him, grave as he was, and PO
much older than 1. I never expected
from him anything like the behavior el e
lover; indeed, should hardly like to see
him in that character, it would not look
natural. ihtt Pru tat hour he said,
"Is Chit my with r 1 hi,e ever and ably
thought el WAS, "11* !outland."
My dear Mao ! Here is his letter -
whieb •h1tiy tiefitre my eyes in the dim
'ste'lll;; it did not some by poet -h. must
-;eft, himself; and At* ran4
brenght ScAn. am 4°01 Atiothin it a
t otatttiomtt'tlgisda ?,Ast •ti SW path
gtribat� iA }$ewas all
satetM,sw ella.so..srswet„", pat
,It1Vit1et11� 1.Qsili Glad trrietwleq tte'Re
Ai"iQA41: Moo
adno tate plslw► ---it is not wrong; di 1
Ygglrtlt1111 Y mews as ever 1 Iasi •jr i•
liew toe and resod for plat
seamed♦ anything in the world (Iowa him
Saturday niybt.
Mr Deas TawDoea--I do not say
"dearest." because there is uo uue to put
in oompariaun with you: you are to me
the one woman in the world.
My dear Theodora --let ore write 11
over again to assure myself that it Day
be written at all, which, perhaps, it
ought not to be till you have read this
letter.
Last night I left you. so soon, or it
seemed suou, and we said so little, that I
never told yuu some things which yuu
ought to have been made aware ..f at
once; even before you were allowed to
answer that question of mine. Forgive
toe. In my own defence let me say,
that when I visited yuu yesterday I
meant only to have the sight of you -the
eomfort of your society -all I hoped or
intended to win fur years to come. But
1 was shaken out of all self-contrd-
firwt by the terror of losing you, and
then by a look in your sweet eyes. You
know ! It was to be, and it was. Theo-
dora -gift of God !-Day He bless you
for showing, just fur that one moment,
what there was in your heart toward me.
My feelings toward you, you can guess
a little; the rest yuu must believe in. I
cannot write about thein.
The object of this latter is to tell you
something which you ought to be told
before I see you again.
Yuu may remember my once saying
it was not likely I should ever marry.
Such, indeed, was lung my determina-
tion, and the reason was this. When I
wasa mere boy -just before Dallas died -
there happened to me an event so awful,
both in itself and its results, that it
changed my whole , character, darkened
my life, turned me from a lively, care-
less, high-spirited lad, into a isorbid
and miserable man, whose very existence
was a burden to hint for years. And
though gradually, thank God ! 1 recov-
ered from this state, so ax not to have
an altogether useless life, still I never
was myself again, never knew happiness
-till I knew you. You came to me as
unforeseen a blessing as if you had fall-
en from the clouds : first yuu interested,
then you cheered me, then, in various
ways, you brought light into my dark-
ness, hope to my despair And -them 1
loved. you.
The haeme ansa, which I •eannet'now
fully explain, because I must first take a
journey, but you shall know everything
withiu a week or ten days -the sante
cause which hiss oppressed my whole
Life prevented the from daring to win
you. I always believed that a man cir-
cumstanced as I was had no right ever
to think of ivarriage. Surae worls of
yours led the of late to change this ..pin-
ion. . I resolved, at some future time,
to lay my whole history, betore you -as
to a mere friend -to ask you the ques-
tion whether or not, under the oircum-
stances, I -was justified -in seeking any
woman for niy wife; and • on your an -
seer, to decide either to try and !Hake
you love me, or only to bee yuu, as I
should have loved, and shall forever.
What I then meant to tell you is still
to be told. I do not dread the reve:a-
tion as I once did: all things seem differ-
ent
ifferent to roe.
I am hardly the same neer that I 'vac
twelve hours ago. Twelve hours ago 1
had never told you what you :re to me
-never had you in my arms -;lever
read the love in your dear eyes -11, •
child never be afraid or aahrmed of Ie:-
tiag.me sets,,7oa love in , unworthy ;;s .
I am. If you had, not loved me, I :
shpuld hafewstrifted way kite perdition
-I mean, 1 might have lost myself al-
together sp. fpr as regards this world.
That is, not likely now. You will ,
save me, and I shall be so happy that I
shall be able to make you happy. We
will never Tie tao again --only one. ' Al-
ready you feel like a part of me, and it
seems as natural•to write to you thus es
if you had been iru,fe for years. Mine !
Sonne day you will ,find out all that is
sealed up in the heart of a man of my
age and of many disposition -when the
seal is once broken.
Since, until I have taken my journey,
I cannott sPesk to your father, it seeing
right that .niy next visit to you should
be only that of a friend. Whether,
after having read this letter, which st
once confesses so much and so little, 1
you think me worthy even of that title,
your first look will decide. i shall find 1
out, without need of your saying one
word.
I shall probably come .,n Monday,
and then not again; to meet you only s.
a friend, .sed to he sufficiently hard.
to meet you with this uncertainty over
hanging ase would be all bat imp a able:
hoeor to yew father compels this ab -
.encs and talent* until my explanation.
are Made.
Will pee forgive met win you t.tm
Mel I think you will. •
THE CITY OF
weal Chaplain •.Cavae •
A pees landed fits
tellyw.
et yuu are ever' my own •.r test, that yuu 'L At the revived rnestiu
are the only woman 1 ewer wished fur Hall Mr. ]da+uwuud res
my wife -the only uue I shall ever mar- ed u n the tullowuip
Mee& had about the •
ry' vale, ended by the gr
WurlaaT.
I read Ma letter many timet over. Robert Ingersoll
:
Yours, Mai Ut
Then I ruse slid drresod myself care- I had a dream, whi
`fully as if it had been Dry marriage dreamt I thought I war
morning. He loved me; I was the u.ly nay through a bewutih
esu ho had over wished for his wife. suddenly I amine to a
It sem truth tuv 'marriage morning. watt fifteen feet high.
Coming down stairs, Mrs. Gornto!'a 'sunned, whose shinint
met me, all delight at 'ay having risen sea back the rays of the mu
was about to salute h.
sO°n' the city, he stopped me
"Such an advance ! We must be sure
and tall Dr. Urquhart. By -the -by did "Du you believe in
Christ
he nut leave a note or uteasage early
this morning 'Y' I answered : "Yes, w
"Yrs, he will probably call on Mon- „man ,. said he, ''here. No man or wain
dry." lad that
She looked surI•risetl that I did not
produce the note,hut made no remark.
And I, two days before, should have ung.'
I looked down the
been scarlet and tongue-tied, but now vast multitude apprise'
things were quite altered. I was his by •military officer.
chosen, his wife; there was neither hypo- "1Vho u that 7" I ask
crisy nor deceit in keeping a secret be-
tween him and ore. We balimged to
one another, and the neat of the world
had nothing to du with us.
Nevertheless. my herrt felt running
over with tenderness toward the de.,r
uld lady, as it did tower,' my father and
my sisters, and everything belonging t.,
me in this wide world. When Mn.
Granton went to church, I sat fur a long
time in the west parlor, reading the
Bible, all alone -at leant, as much alone
as I tier can to in this world again
after knowing that Max loves me.
.•lt being such an exceedingly mild and
warm day -wonderful for the find day of
February -an idea came into my head,
which, was, inrdeed, strictly according to
"neige," only I never yet had had the
courage+ to obey. Now I thought I
would. It would please him so, and
Mn. l;rarituu t'.u.
t o I put on uty out -door gear, and se-
! tually walked, all myself, to the hill -top.
a hundred yards ..r more. Then I sat
1 down on the familiar bench, and looked
' round un the well-known view. Ah me '
1 for how many years, and under how
nany venous circumstances. have I come
and sat oil thatbench, and looked at that
view. I
h was very beautiful to -day, though
almost deathlike in its supernaturally
(sunshiny calm, such as one only sees in
the accidental tine days which come in
early winter, or sometimes as a kind of
tea . tame ca.
Stand aside said he,
et.
•'That." he replied
Robert I - -, the foun
I ngersol l ville. "
"Who i. he !" I ven
"He is a great Inc
who fought in many
the Union during the
I felt ashamed of
history, and .'toad site
procession. I had he
I
* • b,
could not be the man.
The procession canto
me to recognize some
noted two infidel ee
celebrity, followed by
taming steam presses.
tire members of Congr
All the noted infid•
the country seemed t
..f them passed in un
sentinel, but at last
dividual with • white
ed, and he was stop
glance he was a we'
preacher of New York
"Do you believe in
said the sentinel.
"Not much !" said t
Everybody laughed,
ed to pass in.
There were artists t
pictures; singers, with
tragedians and comed.
have a world-wide fan
special antitype of spring. bucdt utter Then came another
stillness everywhere. The mole thing tidel hoot--saloon-kee
that seemed alive or moving in the whole
landscape was a wreath of gray shake
springing frim some invisible cottage be
hind the fir wood, and curling away up-
ward till it lost itself in the opal air
Hill, mu..rland, wood, and sky lay still
as a ptctere, and fair as the Laird •
Beulah the Celestial Country. It woul
hardly have leen strange to see spirit.
'walktsi;; there, or to have turned ani
found siting on the tench beside me my
mother and my half brother, Harry, who
died so lung ago, and whittle faces in
that Country 1 shall first recognize.
My mo:her. Never till now did I feel
the want of her. It seeing only her-,
only a eat other -to sham I could tell
"Max Loves me- 1 ani going G. beMax's
wife...
And Harry -o'er Harry, whom also 1
scarcely knew-.wiwne !ifs was so wretch-
ed, and ,chose death so awful; he might
have been a better nun if he had Daly
known my Max. I am forgetting,
though. !:ow old he would have been
now; and how \lax must have been a
mere Ix.y when,iny brother died.
1 do not often think of Harry. I:
would be hardly natural that I.shoui•i
all happened so long ago that hie men,
ory has never been more than a passim:
shadow across the family lives. But
to -day when everyone of my own fle0'
and blood seemed to grow nearer to m. .
I thought of him more than once ; triol
to recall the circumstances of his dread
ful end ; and then to think of him only
as it glorified, purified spirit, walking u;
on the hills of Beulah. Perhaps n•
ie eking down upon Pee, " baby " the'
was, whom he was 'nes shi obrted; in o,
of his desperate visits home, to ha,
snatched out of the cradle and kissed
knowing ell that had lately happene•.l •
rive a happy life with my dear Max
i took nut Maki letter, and rand it o•
again in the sunshine and -open sir.
o
BE roirrty rs.. )
Y ell.,w Gil is the most deslsttedly Iso
Pular remedyto the for itheer u
tiara, Neuraia,at market Mprains, Bruises, Tv.
Rites, Kora Throat, Lama Eadk, Con
traction of the, lywyea, liissap, Quin -
soy, and a-eryobt � 1.•.e.
iow or Inflammation1Per. o r
-eaAsawsi sold.
by *Plc"' all �(y1
warm
cidBiarPur, and nMMr *iia At.l
!Rood htriAa Liner er IYii�
Rrithagr, and kestaltti
ain tdwe M It rta
tdliarothe leas
a iplain
iMd diseeres . etert-
n40 est
Mr Bwrdesal Plod: A tion
Mottles 10 emits, rsgre sins
;' 11 bops yott bays tyiad.A lay "e •
rested aM seeming asci- Mired mg*
I hope nn Il[aflday 1 may see s raw as
you. ehoeks--'s tiny, delicate, wiatar
rose. That poor, little- thin eheekat,
esy heart- You mites gam
ekeug.
f t y year ili lather yes shoe. t hat this' I
lett., has changed Tont -,pinion •of .Id,
to.as en GPO me morn that you desire yeeterdwy en he altoReth.
15 felt very strange at first to open hg I er forgotten 1 shalt •mde••+ter• ' -. v,t‘ "Pap two de eji/•at, yes I, ere. s 1 4
1!u
.
1 ?
st•s..ti�y: ,
ands, proprietors of g
thele and threatrea.
Still another divi
burglars, thieves, t
highwaymen, murde
ching in. My vial(
beheld, and to ! Sats
up the rear.
High silo 1; above t
mer un which was inn
Christianity done for
another on which wi
with the churches !
tianity-it interfere,
ens !" And then came
that grew louder
shout went up like ti
away with him ! Ci
Him !" I felt iso
Ingersollville.
As the last of the
a few men and wome
med hats and blain 1
appearance and want
sionaries, but they r
away. A zealous y,
hurter, with • bible 1
ed permission to amt
swore at him awfully
I saw Brother Moo
mission, but he s
not help smiling to
he turned sadly awe
"Well ! they let 1
Chicago; it is very
let me into Ingersoll
The sentinel went
shut it with a tan
soon as it was cls
.came down with a
barred the gate 01
wrote upon it in let
ed to live together
went away, and al
the noise of the
that came frees wit
I went away,
through the land i
eyes_ Peso. and
where
The jail
penitentiaries seer
The police eat gi
,ledges sat in court
to do. Boeings Is
buildings, fnrmerlj
incl., were 1.114
estaf,lishreonta J
the President • f t!
ed for a day of Th.
..,I perviees in s
Th
and deprwch.th.!w•
h.anddiinnn. toofthRe
err fox devout flu
s
{
a•s•iase in his oat all the shows r' "Well, .novo w•