North Branch democrat. [volume] (Tunkhannock, Pa.) 1854-1867, 1865-02-22

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figure in its brown dress, the small head
with it's heavy coil of hair at the back, the
long -lashed downcast eyes--he took them
all in with a look, How many nights in the
years that came after did he see in the dar k
ness that little figure parting the shadow:
come and 60 before him.
"Here's something | found for you," he
said at length, lying in her hand small gold
cross "You'l wear it sometimes, and re
member me, | know"
| She did not move. Only her fingers were
like Ice as he touched therf, and her face was
pale.
81 must go now" he ssid rising.
Margaret stood leaning against the deal Ia
bic. She raised her eyes now, and Anson
stood looki ug down into them-those clear
brown eyes-aad holding her two hands in
his.
''Don't you think you can wait for me lit
tie girl?" he SAID. 'It'll be a long while
We shall be an old man and woman by that
time perhaps" trying to smile. "Will you
wait for me until l come back 2"
IL will wait for you forever ~ The words
were low and her lips were very white.
"Bless you, child But, please Heaven
yon shan't have to wait as long as that p
| and he drew her close to him.
Good bye, and God bless you Marga-
retu
She felt bis arm drawn tightly around her
knew that his lips touched her cheek, and
then she sank down upon the floor, her face
buried in the cushions of the old chair.
"Why, Margaret, what air ye doin ?'' -
cried good old Mrs. Frear. ''Herc It's
twelve o'clock this blessed minute, and the
fire all out What will your father say
Mrs. Frear had begun a vigorous attack
upon the cooking-stove, but stopped short as
Margaret, rising YEARLY, stood before her
with blanched, bewildered face.
"Why what ais the child Bless me, she
looks as e( she'd had a stroke - A stroke,
indeed. but not exactly Of the kind to which
her mother referred.
Margaret passed her hand across her eyes
heavily, as with an effort. It's nothing
she said Il must have been little faint
That's all"
SAN enough, | should think. You Just
come into my room and lie down on my bed,
and III make you bowl Of sage tea. Mercy
to me- hope 'tisn't the black tongue, -
Your Aunt Mary told me that was prevailin
Barnet. Jest let me look g. yer tongue :;
and tie good woman hustled about, bringing
blankets and brewing herbs in her solicitude
for her ch!ld, quite cblNous of dinner and
all other minor considerations.
And Margaret buried her eyes in the
snowy piiIowS, while Arson, all his worldly
effects pac kcd in one valise, took his way on
foot to the next stage~town. And the next
week tall man stood upon the ships deck
and watched the blue New England hills
grow dim, and little figure, in its brown
dress, sat still in the Vermont farmhouse
and worked on as before only her cheek
was a trfie winter. and instead of her old
song there was silence.
Ten years Long to look forward-to
long back, only the brief dream of a summer
night. But time enough to create many
new joys, to forget many old ones Had
Margaret Frear forgotten Why we will see
The same tidy kitchen; the same old
chair, and seated therein pa,e woman in
mourning dress. She had sat down in the
kitchen; she could not stay in the sitting
room to day. They had carried out from
in that place between the windows, where
the table was standing now, 1t had stood
She seemed to see the black pail there yet.
There was knocking at the inner door,
followed by the entrance ola tall woman in
dark gingham gown. 1t was Mrs. Kit
tredge. She lived next door, which next
door was good half mile away; but they
were all called in Heathe near neighbors.
81 told my husband" she sard, laying
down her sum -bonnet-"I told him Marg'ret,
that I'd just come over and sit down 'long
with YOU spell. l know It must be lonesome
like"
II am very glad to see you,' said Marga+
ret and she rose, shaking the cushions Of
her rocking chair, and setting if out for her
visitor.
'No, no: you just keep your sittin.?-
You're tired III fetch a chair for myself
out of the keepin' room," And Mrs. Kit
tredge opened the door softly. into that room.
The old clock ticked in the corner, and
the two sat silent for little. Mrs. Kittredge
was knitting very fast. The tears would
keep coming: and she was choking them
down under that string of gold beads about
her neck, She had come over purposely to
"cheer up" Margaret, and here she was cry
ing herself. She had never heard, good wo-
man that she is, what some one has said:
81 D. @4n..z -.