The Ohio Democrat. [volume] (Canal Dover, Ohio) 1840-1900, 1863-02-27
Three Times Afraid.


We stood together on the brow of a
high hill, Sister Georgie and /, at the
foot Of which ran a discontented, dash
Ing river Out of the west, great angry
clouds were heaving and tossing, sending
in every direction sharp flashes of light
ming which seemed to hiss in the very
waters below us, The tall old forest
trees groaned at our backs, in the mad,
tearing wind, throwing their branches
high up in the air, and bending their
tops almost to the ground, as if in reyer.
ence to the king of the storm.
Deeper and darker the clouds set in
around us; louder creaked the trees in
the strong wind; higherleaped the foam
ing waves of the river; nearer, nearer
sounded the fall Of the rain, like the
tread of an innumerable army, as it were,
from the black west, as we stood there,
afar from home, with nothing to shelter
us but the friendly trees. A vivid fash
of tightening played at our feet, and at
the same moment heavy crash Of thun-
der sounded through the air, as if, by
one sweep Ct the Aialisshty's hand, the
far-otf hills, the angry sky and the toss,
ing river had been rooted from their
places.
Closer clung the round arms Of little
George about my neck; closer her white
cheek pressed against mine, till her wet,
fiaxen hair mingled with my brown, drip
ping locks, aud then she said:
II am afraid !"
The little girl of six summers had
grown to be woman when these words
again trembled upon her lips. She was
standing in her bridal robes; her sunny
hair was wreathed with orange flowers,
and her white arms and neck were clasp.
ed about with jewels. But upon her
beautiful features there lay look Of
hidden sorrow, half told story of dis
quiet and unrest A tall, manly figure
darkened the door, and a shadow fell
| upon the rich carpet at her feet.
"Georgie," said voice, in low, thrill
ling tones of irony, you have taken the
old mans gold, and crushed the young
mans heart. You have bound costly
jewels about your young head, and
! trampled all the flowers of your life IN.
der your feet; but these miserable bau.
bles will bow you down to earth with
their accursed weight. The old mans
gold will drag your soul to the lowest
depths Of perdition lay, peTdition
George ?"
The strange, sepulchral voice ceased
the shadow was gone from the carpet
and Georges face was as white as thu
roses that trembled upon her bosom.
II am afraid !" she said, and again hel
arms were thrown about my neck, ani
her cheek pressed to mine, till the heavy
orange blossoms rustled against my hair
and then a white haired old man came
forward and took her hand, and then
Heaven pity her there was a wed
ding.
Morning, sweet, cool and dewy, thu
songs of birds echoing around and the
scent of roses upon the air, when Geor
gle spake that word 10 me again. Her
young feet were pressing fast upon the
white shores of death; her pale hands
were striving to put away the messenger
that came to whisper the word, "free" tc
her troubled heart Far away shecoulG
see the tossing waves of the river, upon
the shores Of which she had never look,
ed. Whittier, whittier grew the lips o.
George; larger seemed ber blue eyes as
she looked forward, and then said again
4 thought my heart would break in
hearing her-as she made weak at
tempt to put her arms about me:
II am afraid !" . ....
A clear, manly voice broke the still
ness of that room; prayer was breath
ed to God, and then a new light wen
over the face of George, as her heat
sank back upon the pillow, and we knew
the light of eternity had broken over he
soul, and that she had passed the swift
rapid river!