The Nevada journal., 1852-06-12


You will pardon me If I pass over
that scene. / dare not at empt de-
scription Of it. 1t was my first lesson
in human suffering, and though / have
learned it over and over since then.
though the iron has entered my soul,
and scared and SCARED it, yet / have
never seen, and do not believe ] have
ever felt, more agony than those two
felt, as they. parted that night to meet
no more on earth,
He bowed his lips TO her forehead,
and murmured the solemn void "for-
ever" She awoke at this word, and
exclaimed with startling vehemencc:
"No, no, there is no such word. Joe" "
1--WE shall not meet again OH earth,
my gentle one"
sand what is eartl?" Her tall form
grew more queenly, and her dark eye
flashed divinely, as she rose and ex-
claimed,in clear and silver tones. Sand
what is earth? These things must
end. / will name tryst, dear Joe,
and you shall keen it. If you pass
first into the other land, wait for me
on the bank, and if 60 hence before
you, l will linger on the other shore
until you come. Will you remember"
Il will live and die in this memory"
She lifted her face to his, and her
arms to his neck, and they clung to-
gcther in a long and passionate en-
brace. Their lips did MOI separate,
but were pressed close together, until
he felt her form cold, and her clasp
relaxed, and he laid her gently down
on the old seat, bowed over her a mo-
ment in prayer, and was gone. / heard
him say take care of her, W" and
go / strove to recall the life that had
left her lips, and cheeks, and eyes. 1t
came slowly, and she awoke as we a
wake in the morning after death has
entered our charmed circle, with an
oppression on the brain, and q swim
ming swollen, senselcssness Of soul.
AT length she remembered all and
raised herself with half articulaied
exclammation nf agony. broken by n
sob and then fell on her knees by the
bench, and buried her face in her
hands, and remained thus for neatly
an hour.
" hen she arose her face was as the
face of an angel. Il wore that same
exalted look until she died.
! think she took cold that night I;
she was never well afterwards and the
next winter she passed at the south,
returning in the spring very fragile.
but very beautiful.
Joseph was sent abroad by one Of
the boards Of missions of the church,
but his health failel, end he resigned
his commission, while he travelled
through the Eastern world.
Three years fed with their usual
swiftness. To Sarah they were very
slow and painful years; yet she was
happy in her quiet way, and no one
dreamed of the strange tryst she was
longing to keep on the other side Of
the dark river which men shrink from.
She grew feeble daily, as the summer
and autumn advanced, and in Decem-
Der she was evidently dying.
One day her mother had been out
of the house, perhaps making calls ;
she returned at evening, and among
other incidents Of news which she had
learned, she mentioned to Sarah the
death Of her old friend, Joseph s..
The fair girl was reclining in a
large arm crair, looking out through
the closed window at the STOW on the
ground, and the pure moonlight which
silversd it, There was no startling
emotion visible, as her mother men,
toned the fat, which to her was the
most solemn, yet most joyful news the
world could give; for now, how much
nearer was their meeting! saw a
smile flash across her face, as the joy
full news reached her ear. ] saw her
forehead raised to receive the caress
which knew she felt. She was silent
for many minutes. and then spoke in
feeble, yet very musical accents, and
boyishly wept aloud. Then she smil
ed and looked at mo with finger up
raised, and said:
"Woit little while longer, dear
W"
And then after moment she said,
"Mother, is the snow very deep! 7"
"Not very, dear; why do you ask?'
/ because If it were deep, l thought
it would be difficult for old Mr.. Smith
to find our lot in The grave yard. Are
all the head-stones covered, mothar?"
"What is the matter, Sarah? What
if they are covered?"