Orleans independent standard. [volume] (Irasburgh, Vt.) 1856-1871, 1864-06-24
Harry Woods Mill.
BY MRS. HARRIET L. FRANCIS.

stole through the open window into Per
Gle Maclure's chamber and famed hel
cheek was almost as soft and warm az
that which had tossed her curls in the
bright June mornings, and if there had
only been robins song, or the tapping
of the buds rocking to sleep in the nigh
breeze against the pane, she could almost
have fancied that the world had turned
back, and the spring-time of the yeal
was hers again.
%, if it could only be so, what 6
bitter past it would undo, she gasped
with long sigh, as the miserable, mad.
dening present, veiled with mockery oil
smiles, rose up in contrast with what
might nave BEEN 1t was the old story
A pure, deep, unrufled love in the breast
of two, either of whom would have al
most given their life for the other, which
at first a thoughtless word had disturbed,
then open misunderstanding that neither
party would make smooth by concessions
and at last firtations and coquetry that
had widened the breach, till now it seem
ed chasm that neither could pass.
And this was to have been my bridal
night, o, Harry, dear, dear Harry = and
the poor girl as she said this buried her
face in the cushions.by her side and sob
bed aloud, as the old love, with its de-
licious surgings, swept over her, and left
such an aching void that even death
looked like happiness, a relief to the
tired, aching hours.
| The lamp burnt low, untrimmed, and
the moon rose high above the trees, and
threw bright beams across the chamber,
and still Percie 8Taclure sobbed on, only
changing her position to gaze at the
swollen stream, which bore upon its bo-
som heavy cakes of ice that dashed
against its sides, murmurjng all the while
an angry, wild refrain, as il resentful Of
the burdens cast upon #. In the clear
moonlight, half shaded by low branching
trees, stood a mill-hiS mill-with the
food pouring over the white arms Of the
wheel, and the huge cakes of ice swaying
and balancing over the dam above, then
falling into the food beneath with sounds
like resounding thunder, tossing up
against the supporting timbers, and max
ing them moan and creak as if they were
throwing out in their dumb language ag-
onizing cries for help.
The faithfcl clock belo " rung out each
hour to listening ears till twelve, and
then there was no hearer, for poor, tired
Percie was asleep; and yet she sat bolt
upright by the window, with wide open
eyes, as il gazing at the stream that rose
higher and higher, threatening each mo-
meut to overflow its banks. She, for the
time being, was a somnambulst, and one
intense desire seemed to have possessed
her mind-to sit in Harry's chair, TO lean
her head upon his desk, and clasp the
book that he had read last, to her aching
heart. Her slippered feet would make
no noise on the staircase, and she could
pass out of the front door and disturb no
one, and return in an hour. what harm
could there be in it% she reasoned in
her unbalanced dreams and it would
comfort her,so.'
The wet, solden snow soaked through
her slippers, and the foaming waters
rushed level with the plank that conuec-
ted the path with the mill door, but Per-
Gle walked it with unfaltering step, and
leaned far over the food to reach for the
KEY, where Harry had often hid it in
those happy days when she, trustful,
leaned upon his arm. 1t was in her hand,
the bolt was sprung, and she threaded
the long floor, busted to whiteness by the
sitting meal, up the fight Of stairs to the
second story, where the wheat lay in
huge piles, then through side door, and
she was in Harry's room. 1t was like
fairy work, passing from the huge raf-
tered room, draped with webs, that laced
and interlaced and hung like chandeliers
from the ceiling, all whitened with -four,
to the loom she sought, bright with its
woven carpet, and curtained with warm
hued brocatelle, two or three cane chairs
and reat desk, with its row of hanging
shelves above. No. delicacy held her
hand back from opening the compart-
ment of the desk, for half of her senses
were locked in Oblivious sleep, and she
took up his picture that she had returned
to him with glad cry, pressed it to her
lips, bent with tears over the love-tokens
now tied with bit Of black ribbon
that had once been hers, and gained pos
session of the book that by its mark
showed where his eyes had last rested
the evening of that day.