The Westerly echo, & Pawcatuck advertiser. [volume] (Westerly, R.I.) 1854-1858, 1856-11-20
THE WESTERLY ECHO, JkAND PAweATyCKs ADVERTISER

She feels refreshed and strengthened for
the way before her. Again she thanks
the old man. nte \
You owe me none, Miss Butler. -
Your father gave his bread to mauy. I
amongst the number on whom his char.
lily fell, do not forget the g;fs.', Gt
So be leads tbe gay TO the door Of
exit. The choir is singing some fnal
music loud, resonant, bespeaking joy
and hope: , } W. t y :.
BE of good cheer be Of good cheer |!
Trust in me and ia my laws, and all
shall come well in its time. Lo, when
the night is darkest is not the dawn
nigh - IN
Full of renewed strength, she passes
on, as swiftly as she can, to the out
skirts Of the town. The wind is very
cold, nay, keener than ever; the moon
has risen it has been freezing, SO that
the ground is getting hard, yet the snow
comes down heavily, very heavily. Still
she braves its fury, and gets on. At o
little public-bouse, placed just where
fields and he'd ge rows begin, she inquiries
about the carrier, and finds that he has
already gone onward, and that it is not
probable that she will overtake the cart,
as be has to diverge from his road to
leave Christmas parcels. So she goes
on as we'll as she can, regretting, how,
ever, she can have no help by the way,
as, seeing its difficulties, she has, at last, /,
resolved to humble her pride aud ask
old Broom for seat. '.a,...
For mile or two, she progresses well
enough, though the snow comes down
heavily, aud not only eddies around her,
but hides the light of the moon. Still
she gets on, though slower by degrees
she is so very tired-the snow so clings
about her, and stays her soddened feet
Her exhaustion is renewed, her heart
dies down again, her faith grows dim.
Five miles Of the eight are gone, when
she thinks she will rest, she is so weary,
and the stupor is returning. So, feebly
brushing off the snow from felled tree
lying by the wayside, she sits down.
She grows colder, more lethargic, more
numb minute by minute goes by, yet
still she sits. She is just sinking into
Inconsistencies, when a gig drives up
and stays. '..."" - .. ,."
Halloa. Missus Why be you sit
ting therei' "-.
No answer-at least none that tho
stranger, a rough, farmer like man, can
hear-so he jumps down, shakes Mar
garet rather roughly, and repeats his
question. She answers, very feebly,
that she is resting.
What amidst such a snow storm,
and with such a wind Why, if you
be here another half hour, you'll rest
forever l reckon. Come, where be you
going to?'
Margaret fecbly names the village,
and her home beyond it.
'Well, l turn down lane hard by,
so I'll drive you as far. Come, rise,
and let me lift you into the gig
This she cannot do without much as
sistancc but the stranger is very kind,
lift her in, gives her little brandy from
flask, and then, taking his seat by her
side, drives on. The brandy and the
motion of the gig together revive her
presently, and her numbness and leth
argy subsidc; and, by the time the
stranger stops to set her down, she is
comparatively active. She thanks him,
and turns her face towards home, which
she can just dimly see, now the snow
storm has ceased. ...