Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1865-03-17

at home if you care for me-"
Poor Charlie. He held her to his
breast in the shadow of the old Park, ,and
tried to teach her first lcsson-how money
must be earned, and how men must earn
it; how sailor bred could be nothing
but sailor; how as man he must dis
charge his duty, and never have to think
that he had draggedk yer from the shelter.
ed home of luxury 70 suffer poverty and
all its ills; how, in fact,
Men must work and women must weep.
And the sooner it's over tie sooner to sleep"
1t was very hard to learn, and the poor
girl-wie could not comprehend it. As
for going with him, old Captain Thomas,
an old-fashoned sailor, who boasted that
he never 'crept in at the cabin windows
and never studied navigation out Of books
but fought his way up from cabn-boy-
that old salt would meyer have consented
to have woman on board, in view Of all
manner of Evolutionary ill-luck-storms.
shipwrecks, etc. There comes some such
episode to every young wife in modified
form.
Janet could see no necessity for this
voyage. Only cruel choice.
That fortnight all tears and iameata-
ton. That parting for six months-six
eternites to her. Charlie and Janet had
grief enough in their two loving hearts to
fill this world and leave surplus for
some other.
AT last the day came, and he left her
fainting, and went away crying like a
child
Then Janet was all, ,all alone, and thot'
that she should die. When her tears re-
fused to flow so freely as at first, which
was not for many weeks, she found some
comfort in an old piano, sweet-toned
thing, and very, very shabby, that stood
in tue parlor Of her boarding-house.-
But her songs were always sad. A
wounded bird dying in her nest and call
ing Cor her mate, could not have uttered
more pitiful to listen to. Only now and
then. when letter came, she frightened
up for while. But at last six months
were gone, and there came no letter.
The ship must be at hand-that of course
was it. lie, Charlie. would be here very
very sosn. Bat no Charlie came. Those
who waited for the Bonnie Lassie saw
her not No letter, no Charlie. Another
month-another- -another-still no news.
One morning she stood by the window
watching, and the landlady came to her.
Size was a good woman, and hesitated to
speak but her boarding house only kept
her out of poverty, and this blue.eyed
girl was boarder after all. So she SAID:
Mrs. Oliver, | don't like to tell you,
but-but-"
"Oh, you've heard i'll news of Char
ley "-and Janet, turning with ashen
check, clung to her arm.
No, my dear. o 10, thank good
ness, it's quite different. Your husband
paid your board for six months in ad.
vance, you know"
eyes"
Well-ahcm-it' nearly ten months
since he went, and I'm quite poor, and
I'm often cheated, very often, and, the
fact is, can yow pay me?
Il? o 10. Charcs-Mr. Oliver
will settle with you the moment he re-
turns"
Y-c-s-but it's no use mincing mat
ters, my dear I'd be glad to wait. But
are you sure he will come back? The
sea is treacherous, and they say sailors
have also--'a wife in every port. There
now, don't take on. Haven't you rela
tions, or somebody who will help you 2"
"My father, I'll 90 to my father,
said poor Janet. "lIe will forgive M
nolc."
And she left the house as weary
child might have done, lor ging~ for tina
good old breast that used to be her shell,
ter. Far out Of town the homestead
STOOD and its doors were locked and it
windows barred against her. a strang'
servant came at her summons. She hac
anticipated that, and written few line
begging that he would see her. On tn,
envelope wrs written, Il have no ongfr
daughter. She is dead to me-"
Janet Oliver went back to the city
boarding house, and there that night ;
babe was born to her-a wailing thin.
that struggled for life and won it last
and Janet, holding it against her breast
felt that fragment of her Charities life
lay there, and clung to it as drowning
men will cling to the iraiest foatin.
thing. Bat for those little hands, thos,
strange, ignorant eyes, that precious
nothing holding the embryoa soul, Char
lie divers wife would have let 60 of lif
and float, d away upon the sea Of deatl
that night. Her baby kept her alive
And now her watch, her rings, her ittl
jewelsd keepsakes began to go-by-and
by her costlicr clothes, the white furs sh
had wrapped herself in when she clopet
that night with him. One by one every
thing went, save some cotton gowns, he
hood, and large shawl. At last cam
the climax.
She stood with her babe before tn
landlady, and the woman said thoug
not unkindy.
Mrs. Oliver, [ am sorry for you
but you have father and he must kce
you, | can't" And Janet took her chill
and went out into the mldwntcf after
noon. She had no hope of her father
pity. but she said, ''We can die, my chill
and |, within sight of the old house
and perhaps he may forgive me when h
sees me dead Then another hope en-
tered her soul; she would wrap the chill
up carefully; the little one might live
and he would have mercy on that for it