The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1868-02-03
J o H N.
1Concluded.l

But his hand on mine was cold and
shaky, and his voice hoarse. "No, Jen-
ny, not that. Joe and the boy are
quite well, and on their way back, for
Christie Burns vessel is IL; but-but"
his voice sinking ever lower, sit was a
trouble of mine-a trouble that seems
like to kill me. I've hidden it. I've
tried to bury it. 1 even tried to be
careless of it. 1t won't do. 1t is there.
And now, when the last hope is going
forever-I am quite q boy, Jenny-I
thought of you. thought yen might
help me; and, Jenny, for Gods sake, tell
me what to do"
There was deep feeling in his voice,
and John never spoke that name lightly.
went up to him where he had crOuched
in the grass ard gathered the damp hair
from his brow.
Tell me, John, ;" said. But the de-
spair that | had in my voice He lifted
his face and covered it with his arm, rs
he had lain hundreds of times asleep in
the old yacht when we were children.
"Jenny, / love Ionic Irvingham /. a poor,
unlearned boor of o fellow, and she a fine
lady with a fortune more than / could
count. Ever since tho time / used to
make her little boats, and trot her on
Rover's back, I've loved her-aHd now
all the moro since she is to 60 abroad
next month for years, and maybe marry
fine lord or nobleman; and I-why,
Jenny, would die for her. But must
live, live and work, live and work, and
he poor, and know nothing of books
and fine society and such life as hers"
With sudden knowledge that q wo-
man has when loveless, shadowed life
such as mine comes to her, / said: John,
can't you bear a sorrow that will never
tighten, patiently, quietly, with a will
of iron; in life where the sunlight has
become hated to live trying to forget
the pain, and feeling cheerful because
God wills and one knows the pain is
best ~
When spoke God knows how bitter
the pain l held, how far from being
calm or recOnciled l felt.
"But how can l fSrget her, or how
can live patiently With nothing to live
forw
/ felt pain 80 keen at his words that
l could hardly reply.
"You must forget her. What can you
ever hope to do to win her proud faith
er's consent, even if you win her! Be-
sides, you will have other things to do.
Men must not break their heart The
world needs strong arms. Think 7 With
your strong will, your hatred of being
bound, could you enter that life of fash
ion and worldliness and not feel ont of
placer
John hung his head like bashful boy.
81 know it WILL enough. She does not
love me or dream of my love for her. |
could not be sneerd at by her father"
The time had come to speak when his
pride was touched.
"JOhn, live a noble life. Que can
wear out these troubles. No, do not 20
away. Stay here, and make your heart
forget its folly, if you can. Be maa,
and do n mans work, leaving the rest to
God"
II will Jenny. God bless you" and
John had gone.
The next day she came TO take leave
of me 1t rained dismally.
"Just think, Jenny, you little, brown
wren, of me. | am actually going
abroad. Five years: it is Il long time
But you look dismally sOber--a sober as a
girl over her first love letter. Maybe
it il lover, Jenny ?" she said playfully.
"0h, we'll, like John; he is worthy of
you. will bring you wedding pre-
sent from Paris"
She looked daintier than ever in the
plain little room; and her hair clinging
about her soft white brow, fitted for the
luxury and beauty she lived in.
Louie Irvingham, did you know that
afternoon how the rain, sobbing out
side my little window, walled as my
own heart helplessly did, as l thought
how little the love that yoH had
would have been to you, how to me-life
itselfi
When the soft white face, in it's pret-
ty framework Of curls, faded away in
the rain, / looked at the hard lines com
ing on my face, and the pain in my set
mouth, and for an instant the great diff
ference between us was so keen-GOd
forgive, the tears kept time to the rain
without!
There is little in the six years after to
tell. John bought vessel, and was
gone long whiles. i knew he was pa
tieRt; he never spoke her name. All the
good that life seemed to bring him to
do, know he did. Sometimes longed
to speak of his sorrOws, but l never
did.
Once Miss Ionic had played me a sad,
plaintive melody of some great German
composer. Ny life seemed like the sad
dest part of that little tune. | remem-
Der the harmony rose and fell till the
whole ended in a triumphal burst of
sound; and l used to wonder if my life
would come to the joy-notes, too.
One day John came to me with a pa
per, a ssrt of a smile on his quiet lips.
His finger pointed me to paragraph as
he unfolded the paper, and l read
Louie's marriage.
"a rich, great man" John said, SIM
ply. "Jenny, l have overcome it. 1t
was boyish thing. l know how vain,
how foolish it would have been."
This was all he said, folding up the
paper and going away.
The six years were nearly over. Char
lie and Jee had been on longer cruise
than usual, and were coming back. 1t
bSeIucu 40 thOuBh my hiC-"Olh N "oo
pretty clear, thought, as spread the
linen to the air, and kindled fire in
the little front room. The damp chill
Of evening came against my cheek as !
stood at the gate. On the beach lot
of men had gathered. Perhaps the yes
sci was already inland here comes
John TO tell me. He kept his face from
Inc as he came nearer: and look, such
as had seen on it when his mother
died, was there when he came up to me.
He led me in, away from the salt
smell and the chill air, TO the little par
lor, lighted and warmed.
Jenny / am in trouble. have come
to you"
Hooked quickly up at him.
"Pve lost some dear friends, and need
you 20 tell me that God knows best, and
thst it is right
/ thought of Louie and the Irving
hams but a second look in Johns face
made me say:
at 10 Joe and Charliei They will
never como homer
Johns tace had fallen between his
hands.
One thing more and this little story