Raftsman's journal. [volume] (Clearfield, Pa.) 1854-1948, 1867-05-01


: There-Zeke has brought the wagon; do
start off, or you Ii be too late for the New
\ ork train !
And job obeyed meekly, only too happy
to escape from the endless discord OF his
wife railing tongue
The rays OF the MONDAY sun streamed
brightly through the stained glass easement
OF Mr.. EverleIgh's superb Gothic library.
The room was decorated with every appear
ance of wealth and taste. Velvet chairs,
with tall backs OF dainty rosewood, were
scattered here and there maj BILE vases oc-
cupied inches beside the doorway, and the
rareSt pictures hung on the panneled and
gildcd walls. But the prettiest object of all
the one which the rich lawyer oftenest
raised his eyes from his writing to contem-
plate with an involuntary smile Of pride and
aHectIon-was a lovely woman in a white
cashmere morning robe, trimmed with vel
vet, who stood opposite, arranging flowers
III a bouquet. She wore spray of berries,
carved of pink Neapolitan coral, at her
throat, and llny pendants of the same rare
stone III her small shell-like ears, and the
slender waist was tied round with broad
pink ribbon.
There Walter, isn't that pretty?" she
asked, holding up her completed bouquet.
Very pretty, he answered, looking not
at the loses and geraniums, but directly at
the blue eyes and golden curls of his beau
titul young wife.
You re not even noticing it, she pouted. .
Because L see something much better
worth looking at, " said he playfully.
DO you really love he SO very much p
she asked, throwing down the flowers, and
coming round to his side.
He rose and drew her caressingly towards
him.
My dearest, you are more precious to me
than the whoe word beside !"
She let her head L, st for moment on his
shoulder, and when she raised it, there was
tear on her eyelashes.
"Oh, Walter, ii mamma could only have
lived to see how happy we are.
There was knock at the door Mrs. Ev-
erleigh slipped from her husbands arm,
with the prettiest blush in the world and
was very busy with her flowers when the
lich lawyer right hand man put his griz-
zled head into the room.
The old man to see you about the Jesse
Falrweatt er business, sir. y
''Show him In. Don look so disappoint-
ed, love, he said to his wife, as the griz-
zled head disappeared L shall not be de-
tanned three minutes, and the horses are at
the door. :" !
Mary Everleigh never troubled her pretty
little head about business matters. so she
never looked up as the halting sound Of old
} OBJ ltaynesford crutch echoed on the car
pet. But the instant he spoke she started
as II All arrow had smote her, and stood " ith
her large eyes dilated and her slender hands
clasped together, liste ing as intently as If
her life depended on hearing every word.
The man was politely inflexible. At length
Job Raynesford turned to go.
'Weil, sir, said he in a subdued tone, Il
don't know much about the law and law
books, but it does seem hard that an old
nun should be turned out Of the home that
has sheltered him for sixty years, and all for
no fault of his own. They say you re very
rich gentleman, sir-fve thousand dollars
may seem u small sum to you, but it is my
air.
Mrs. Everleigh' S voice broke the momen-
tary. silence that succeeded this appeal.
Walter, come here one minute-I want
to speak to you.
He obeyed, somewhat surprised; she
drew him into the deep recess Of the stained
glass bay window, and standing there, with
the rosy and amber shadows playing about
her lovely brow, like some fair pictured
saint, she told him how, twenty years ago,
a weared child and its mother were fed and
sheltered by a kind hearted stranger: how
he had given them money and kind wishes
when they were utterly alone and desolate
In the world.
But, my love, what has this TO do with
my business matters?
Much, Walter; | am that little child.
You, my dearest -
Il, my husband and the noble man, who,
am pursuaded, saved my life that night,
hnxyaI
sinking heart y
MARY, you must surely be mistaken"
Il cannot be mistaken, Walter. should
know him among a thousand You said
YOU loved me this morning-now grant me
one little BOOM?
What is it, dearest?'
Give me the note he spoke of.
Mr. Everleigh silently went to small eb-
ony cabinet, unlocked it, and drew out
folded paper, which he placed in her hands.
She glided up to the old man, who had been
gazing out of the window, and placed a soft
hand on his arm.
''Do you remember the little golden hair
ed Mary whom you found with her mother.
wearied out upon the roadside, twenty
years ago
DO Iremember her. .lady? 1t was but this
morning | was recalling the whole scene?
ana uON you TeceSLiLe uBe size dShtu'
smiling up into his face, as she threw back
the droopi~g curls. Il am little Mary -
He stood in bewildered silence; all of a
sudden the truth seemed to break upon him,
and he laid his hands upon her head with
fearful blessing.
''And your mother, my child?"
''She has been dead for years; but it is
my dearest task to be the instrument of her
gratitude. Here is the note you endorsed
my husband has given it to me-see
A small spirit lamp was burning in one
NJ tba inches she held the bit of paper