Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1868-05-01

Robinson must be hungry after his jour.
ney: won't you get him some supper?"
| She left the room without word, NOV
| ing mechanically, like one in dream.
| Half an hour passed, during which Robin
| son had given me a sketch of his ship
wreck. 1t was the old story-the same,
with variations, that De Foe and Tenny-
son and Adelaide Proctor have told. He
and his two companions had been washed
| on an island, rich in beautiful vegetation,
but infinitely dreary in its solitude through
the long, long years of watching to
| which the castaways were doomed.
He told me how hope had almost
died out, when one morning, at sun
| rise, they saw ship steering for the
island, signaled her, and were taken on
board. She was 1.-THE Zephyr" bound for
| New York; and in little more than two
months she brought them home.
/ When Robinson had finished his story,
went out to see what had become of his
wife. She was in the pantry, standing be-
fore Willie's3 cup, and the blessed tears
| were streaming down her face. As soon
as she saw me She fell on my neck, sobbing
| convulsively: ene
"Must give him Willie's cup? No lips
| have touched it since he went away. How
can give it to that man?" | let her cry
| until she was exhausted then / raised her
| gently and carried her to bed. n
"Lie there fifteen minutes, dear: by that
| time shall have supper ready"
She obeyed as little child might.
| When I went to her, she was white and
still, her lids closed. Alarmed, j called her
| hastily by name, and she raised her eyes
| to mine There was still the same fixed
| glitter in them I lifted her from the bed
and arranged her dress; she was quite pas
sive under my hands. =
| It was a. dreary supper, and more
dreary evening. But at last it came to an
end. .-,,ag--6 auaT
! lay half the night turning restlessly on
my lounge. The moonlight poured across
the room in broad stream. Willie's pic
| ture looked down at me with an unearthly
expression Willie's arm chair took weird
forms in the dim light. / thought over the
rapid succession of events, until my head
| grew dizzy with thinking Then the re-
| proachfi1l eyes of the young Willie seemed
staring at me from the dark corners of the
room; and, mingled with his youthful
traits, came the rough features and sinister
| eye of the adult Robinson. Through this
| chaos of faces Mary's, too, came up, just
as had seen her when she stood at the
door of her room, bidding me goodnight,
her eyes large with terror, and her hands
stretched out to me for help-for help,
alas! which how could / give her? For
was he not her husband? And is it not to
her husband that a woman must cleave?
Suddenly my heart stood still. The lit
tie woman herself crept noiselessly from
] the bedroom face looking horribly
wan in the oonlight-crossed the parlor
and knelt in the accustomed spot. Her
| hands were raised above her head: her up
| turned face was conyulsed with an agony
of appeals but for time no words came
| from her lips: she sank PROSTATE on the
floor ooh, my God y at last she moaned !;
| "Willie has gone from heayen-gone from
| heaven! l have lost him Oh, where is
| he?" Then she glided back as silently as
she had come, but the bitter moan sounded
in my ears the long night through.
The next morning she wore the same
| stony face. Istayed with her three weeks,
| and then returned to my own home, which
had, meanwhile, been thoroughly renoya-
ted. could sit in peace before my fire
placesnow, without fear of storms or risk
of draughts. | could sit in peace, out
Wdluly, DllG lily ullIu udO Utllt ItSt. AZ
| intervals of two or three days went over
to see the little woman. Month by month
| her face grew smaller and her eyes larger
and brighter. Their glitter haunted me.
More than year passed. One cheerful
morning, in early spring, was ironing in
my kitchen: a pleasant breeze came
through the window: the blithe birds
without made the orchard vocal with their
| lively twitterings, and a bed of straWber
ries in the garden delighted my eyes with
| its white blossoms. Life seemed pleasant
| to me this bright morning, and my hands
moved briskly at my work.
| A shadow fell across the ironing board
| and caused me to look up. There was Mr..
| Robinson, standing in the doorway. The
! weatherbeaten face had changed much in
| the year-an unhappy year it had been to
him-but its events had stirred the gentler
parts of his nature. He looked even sad
der than usual this morning and his voice
was low and subdued: sasr
miss Jenlima, my Mary seems lower
than common: she's clean given out
and gone to bed My rough hands and
ways amt no account in sick-room ;
| wouldn't you just step over and see if you
| could help her any? wouldn't ask it if
| could get along Without R i4
Instantly" replied, putting on my bon
net. Twill lock up the house and go back
with you. :" ....sgi ..~r,.q
| i found Mrs. Robinson lying on her bed,
the room darkenedi She looked up at me
and smiled-a sweet, dim smile-then, clos
! ing her eyes, she lay quite still. Hour after
| hour, that sat by her bedside, she never
moved nor spoke. In the evening | sent
| for the village dOctor--a quiet meek little
man-who shook his head, looked doubtful
and left some powders. 4'g"' 80
And SO she lay for five days and four
nights. Sometimes she was feyerish, and
would turn and mutter but usually she
| lay quite still, her small, thin hands folded,
and that wonderful smile on her face. The
evening of the fifth day the room was in
| tensely still Mr.. Robinson and | sat watch
| ing the calm face, white as the pillow be-
meath it. Suddenly a light broke over her
| features She flung her arms upward with
a murmer of joy: willie, am coming"
sank back, her breathing growing shorter
and feebler-a gentle, scarce perceptible
struggle, and the little woman was gone
from her pain, from her longing, from her
fond delusion--gone to a world of light
| and of peace, where all decisions vanish
gone to world where, ere long, there will
be another meeting and then Willie will
be recognized and welcomed BY that faith
| full heart and loved forever! Il .at
| Meanwhile, a bent old man still lives in
| the House over the way. He, too, is going
fast His hair is white--a softened light
| shines in his eyes his mouth falls easily
| into a fnndnr ami 10 W hon Won Snnal RI him