Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1865-06-14

vet there was deep sorrow IN her heart
| rather felt this than thought much about
II at the time
But one day mother told me what it was
She was rich and had been engaged to
young man as rich as herself. but a month
| before the wedding day he lost all his prop
erty He Immediately wrote to his intend
ed, informing her of this and offering TO
release her from her engagement. But 10
this she replied, that 1t was not his property
but himself that she promised TO wed, and
she hoped that the loss of his property would
not interfere with their engagement, and so
| infict greater loss upon herself
To this letter she received no answer and
her lover disappeared; and where he had
gone no one knew. She had been with US
but a few DAYS before | had told her all a
bout my hermit friend. Shearpeared shock
ed at the idea Of any one choosing such
life. and asked me a great many questions
about him. and concluded by wondering II
there was not something we could do for
him. | had sometimes carried him apples
OF everything he seemed TO have an abun-
dance
But, said Ellen, ''supposing he should
be sick there all alone? / cannot bear 10
think Of any one living IN such way; We
must do something for him y
But what can We do?" said |. Il have
often asked him to come here, but YOU see II
is DO use: he never asked me 10 bring any
one with me.
She said no more about it then, but no
tieed after that, that the first thing she did
in the morning when size came down was to
look for his cabin; ana If at any time it was
later than usual, she was sure TO have an
anxious look until II made Its appearance.
It was now the middle Of winter, and the
cold was intense. One moonlight [ night FL
len. after setting nearly an hour upon the
glistening ice, started up with the exclama-
ton:
/ '.There. James. I have it now we must
not let that poor man live there in that way
any longer Listen while | tell YOU plan,
and you must cary 1t out. We will make
flag. and you must get him to put up flag
staff on his cabin. and arrange II in such
manner that in case anything should happen
he can hoist a signal OF distress without go
ing outside.
I can not help laughing at the idea, and
yet | thought the plan a good one, II we
| could only get him to think SO.
Tell him, said Ellen, there Is lady over
here that can't sleep nights for thinking Of
him.
suppose 1t never entered her head any
more than it did mine at that time, what
some people might say of such message.
Well, the next morning We got a piece Of
white cloth Tor q flag, an old clothes line for
halyards, and tin box III which the fax
would be protected from the water. The
box was to be nailed 10 the flagstaff. and the
lid opening readily, slight pull would be
sufficient to raise the flag. Through smalf
hole in the roof the halyards might be taken
TO his very bedside.
In the afternoon We saw by the smoke
that be was at home, went over, l shall
never forget how he looked when told him
our plan At first there was d sneer on his
face. but it gave way to a placid smile. and
finally burst out into a hearty laugh, the
first | had ever heard him utter.
Wei, said he, as you have taken so much
pains lets have 1t up; there Is 70 be sure no
telling what may happen.
And so we set TO work, and he really
seemed TO enjoy It, and appeared more like
a rational being than | had seen him before
We cut pole. trimmed it, and made a hole
in the top for the hayards. and he got upon
the roof to put 1t up; as he was standing
just beside the chimney his toot slipped and
In trying TO save himself dropped the flag;
down 1t went InFo the fire, and befOreIt
could be rescued it was too badly burned to
be Of any use. l had suspicion at first
that he had done 1t Intentionally, but was
very glad to find myself mistaken a. from
the valise he drew out large pocket hand
kerchief.
There, said he. this Is not quite so largeas
the other, but | guess It will do.
Ii was nearly night before we finished,
and he insisted that | should stay and take
supper with him. BY the time this was
ready the old gloom came back to his brow
He ate but a little. and was more unsoclable
than | had ever before seen him but all on
sudden he raised his head with the air OF
a man who resolved to do something at all
hazards.
here in this way, OF no use to myself or any
body else ?'
| told him that | had wanted to do some
thing for him.
So YOU have, said he; and now | will tell
you why [ came here, for l am beginning TO
think that | did wrong TO myself and others,
and that [ ought not TO stay here any Ion
ger. No. though | met with treachery and
and the meanest kind of meanness, Itwas not
a sufficient excuse for my leaving Il society,
but rather an excuse for my remaining IN It.
But the story Is a short one. was rIch,
and one who professed, and i belleyed.t to be
nv friend cheated me out of all could
have borne that, but L was engaged to be
married. | Immediately wrote 10 my be-
trothed 0ffering 70 teledSe A0l i!oiii i0i Iii
gagement but without the slightest idea
that she would do anything OF the. kind
judge then Of my surprise at receiving a
letter in her own handwriting, that might
still be friend, but more than that she new
er could be-
Although 1 knew at first sight twas her
writing, vet [ compared it with othels she
had sent me: but I had to make up my
mind that it was useless to doubt it. the
fact must be accepted. Having neither
father nor mother. brother nor sister, L re-