Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1867-03-15
M iseella nfo II s.
From the Lady's Friend for February.
One Of Lifes Shadows.
BY AMANDA 81. DOUGLAS.

DR.. Mckinstry lifted Clyde Denavaa
into the sleigh, tucked the robe around her.
not forgetting the dainty little feet nesting
in the lambs wool m1t at the bottom, and
then took survey Of her there in the
moonlight. She was pretty enough to be
surveyed anywhere; and yet, not one Of
the beautiful women who startle YOU by
their charms. Very fair, with soft golden
hair, whose rich waves never needed the
assistance of crimping pins; large, tender
eyes, that were OF no particular color but
held i'll them shady light, reminding you
of some clear lake when little cloud drift
ed over the sun. A tint of peach IN the
cheeks. ripe scarlet in the lips: small,
delicate, with refined dain,iness about
one Of her strongest characteristics.
She blushed II little at the look-it was
almost us light as day--and seeing the ris-
ing color confused the grave Doctor. He
fumbled about the horse, tritlc, came
around to his own side, and, clearing his
voice of a suspicious huskincss, asked il she
was all right and comfortable.
'Oh, yes, with "a sweet smile. It's too
bad to give You all this trouble.
Il don't want you to think that. I'm
glad to do anything for you. And I've a
sick man over by the Hollow. | should
have gone again this evening in any event.
But you did not know that when yon,
offered to take me, she respo lded. archly
NO. You would have been just as wei
come. though
lie touched the horse, who flew along
over the snowy road, jingling the bells to
the Prancing accompaniment of his feet,
DR.. Mckinstry had bceu keeping Hero
frcsh for tonight.
How spcndidly lie goes. Clyde said,
her face glow OF animation. do you
know what | almost wish, DR.. Mckins
uy!'
What And he dared to indulge him
self with glimpse of the dangerous smile.
That there wasn't any dance, or pail.
or whatever they call it, at Trainor's to
night; and then I'd do nothing but ride the
whole evening.
| Il wish there wasn't gravclv.
And yet, love to dance, dearly.
love to dance, dearly. suppose, when |
am there, shall wish that would last al
ways. / believe | like everything too
much. am a foolish little body
DR.. MeKinstry looked on the snow this
time. lie could not quite trust himself
with the sight of her sweet face, as much
AS he longed for it. He wondered why 1t
should affect him so this night. Presently
he said-'Youth is the time to be foolish
and gay. God means we shall view every.
thing with young eyes, then. There's
enough care and sorrow afterwards.
j wonder if ever shall have any!
was her meditatve query.
do you want it,
oh, no. Ouly sometimes I ask myself it.
it is quite right to be so very happy, when
there is so much pain, and grief. and troub-
le in the world; to enjoy everything with
so much zest.
i think it is. What were you reading
the other day?'
TO some men God hath given laughter,
But tears TO some men he hath given,
and We who have the tears. give thanks
for the smiles of Others, when we have
none of our own; 1t isa blessed thing to
be happy, Clyde and to make others
so.
Dr.McKinstrv rarely reverted to his own
life Clyde knew as much of him as every
one else in Milford knew. Seven years
before he had come there with strange,
wild looking woman, who still possessed
the remnants of a great beauty. one babe
of few months, and little boy two years
old. He looked aged and careworn. then;
indeed. Clyde thought him growing young
er every year. 1t came out presently that
Mrs. McKinstry in spite Of all her hus-
bands efforts, was confirmed opium eat
er. What he had suffered in these years,
no one knew; beyond tho fact that he had
given up fine city practice he had inher-
tied from an uncle. aud come to this little
country village to keep his wife away from
the temptation. il possible. Two years
afterwards she had finished her course by
suicide. He had gone on qui-
etly, gaining every ones good opinien for
his skill and his ready sympathy. Not
much given to words or proEiaos. but
abundant in good deeds, asking 90 ones
pity, but bestowing his own on all who
were IN need or distress.
Clyde was an orphan, and lived with an
uncle, whose farm joined Dr. McKinstry's