Cedar Falls gazette. [volume] (Cedar Falls, Iowa) 1860-1895, 1861-03-01

humble girl at his side. And she found her.
self reused and quickned by the outdrawing
influence Of a superior but congenial mind.
Thencethe conversation was brought gently
to personal affairs, where, at length point
was gained at which Mr.. Brewer ventured to
ask: T# #t
"Have you no other friends but thiss"
"None in all the world, except, perhaps, q
brother" - -E
Mr.. Brewer could scarcely ask further
question. Breaking the silence, Jennie said :
"My younger brother, Robert, left us three
years ago-he was only fifteen then-in the
rush to California; thinking that, though
only boy, he might bring back gold enough
to make his father comfortable for lfe We
heard of his arrival and promising begin
ming but nothing since. Two years ago we
came to live at this end of the city, and pos
sibly at that time he changed his loca ion-
At any rate his letters have never reached
us nor have ours reached him. The other
day, when father came home he had received
tidngs from him, for lie said so just az he
was dying but the news itself died on his
lips, and have no clew whatever to its ma
ture. Brother Robert was noble boy, sir
the bravest and the best boy I ever knew"
Just here the tears would start, and long
silence followed. II ......-
Mr.. Brewer had brought purse with lit.
tie gold in it, thinking to slip it into the hand
of the girl whose trials had so touched his
sympathy; but when he rose to 60 the act
seemed impossible; he did not dare to do it
he could only ask, with the deepest respect
| "Can be of any service to your"
l thank you very much for your call, Mr..
Brewer-very much. There is only one thing
you can do for me-employ me, if my work
pleases you" -..
No need to follow the plain board coffin
rough casket for such father-to its place
among the silent poor in the great cemetery.
II the faded shawl clung close to the poor
girls form, chilled by the autumn wind, drop
ping tears upon the turf alone by the poor
mans grave, under it beats as warm daugh-
ter's heart and lived as rich q woman's ma
ture, as ever moved gay and proud in choic-
er and happier scenes. .........
Jennie could not and would not leave the
dear old room, hallowed now by the memory
Of sainted father. She lived there alone
There was no objection to it now, for only a
young and elastic tread walked the creakings
in the long flight of old stairs. ....
The bright faced boy came and went every
day with bundle. The work was very nice,
and the pay was so much better as to give a
new chintz of deep brown with tiny white
figure. Mr.. Brewer came occasionally. lie
slid quietly into the place of friend, brought
books for Jennie to read and then discussed
their contents with her.
There were many points upon which they
agreed, and many upon which they differed
Both liked very we'll to differ; for Jennie
found pleasure in arousing the deep, earnest
strength ofexpression. and he was never weary
ofawakeningthat fash ofherlarge brown eyes
and easy dignity of talk which severed her
from all other Of his friends.
/ Mr.. Brewers calls were not frequent, but
they never failed during the many months in
which she sat and sewcd in the humble attic
room.
i Alas for the struggling, tossed, brave, and
weary girl These visits, so comforting at
first, were coming to be a source Of pain-in
fact, and especially in prospect. ....
He came and went rs kind, disintercsted
! friend always considerate and appreciative,
but always elfpoised Knowing and trusting
him as true friend, she yet knew nothing Of
the man but what she saw in her own home.
He never talked of HIMSELF The lad who
came and went with bundles had once or
twice spoken Of Father in manner which
convinced her that Mr.. Brewer was a hus-
band, and this his aon. That was all but
it was decisive. And yet, though settled On
this from the first, as time wore on, the COM
panionship and sympathy of her one visitor
grew into a need and then necessity. No
reasonings, no willful checkings, no self con-
demnation even, could stay the growth of that
giant presence by which at last she was COW
cred and over powered. In vain Jennie fash.
ed indignation on herself, that she should
love the beloved of another woman's heart
husband and father. In vain she wept,
and prayed. The chains grew tighter and
tighter holding her in misery to which all the
sadnesses of her life bore no comparison.
4
The afternoon sun of September sabbath
wrapped in cherry light the dark, sea wash
ed hull Of an ocean steamer coming up the
bay to the crowded pier.
i At the same moment Jennie's friend turn.
ed down dull, dark street, entered door.
way, and ascendcd creaklng stairs. 1t was
one of the pleasures of Jennie's room that,
far away over the brick houses, with their
smoked and smoking chimneys, lay the al
ways changing picture Of the bay. To-day,
after long discussion of the beauties and
blemishes, first Of The Old Curiosity Shop"
and then Of De Quincey's Confessions" !"
with other and minor talk, Jennie touched
upon the scenery of the bay, with its white
/ winged butterflies and the black beetle that,
an hour or two before, had been crawling up
| the harbor.
~ always think" she said, "when look
out upon the harbor, that perhaps some day
it will bring my brave brother home to me !;
and then shall not be alone nor unhappy,
nor tired any more. Oh! il | could only
4 know whether he is living or dead-whether
shall ever have him again !"
j The tears would come, and her eyes were
all glistening as she looked into the face Of
her friend.
Mr.. Brewer seemed absent, yet present !;
tender, yet i'll at ease. The thought darted
into her mind. :" Perhaps he knows more of
my brother than lit was so new thing
to see him perturbcd.
"Have ever told you anything Of my
selfs'' he asked at length.
"Never."
Upon this he moved chair close beside
her, but so as not to meet her glance, and
| told the story of his life down to the present
hour It was told concisely; but all the
prominent facts were there. Then changing
h;c plac.. fek;no hor c0lA hand and 1ook;pO a