The daily dispatch. [volume] (Richmond [Va.]) 1850-1884, 1868-01-03

pocket. you'll find my Drahoy ,, c.
jholds but drop, bit it'll do.goou' ~
saving, when the flask is touno, Guy ,.ay
makes Harry take what it holds' ana 'non
hurries him off home. c,,-
aBut, you'll come, Gray" says o.e.
nben who is the next eldest to Harry,
s papa will never forgive US if you aon,I
come. after having saved US our oea,
/ Harry. We always liked you, Gray, anu
we're talkiug of you this very morning
| Come on you're dripping like oog.
.uTbank you; want to be at :" s.a-
tion nv o'clock tonight, and at Leeas To-
morrow. so can't. I have dry unaer1
garments in my knapsack here, WINCH !
can change in that fodder shed yIn aseuo
Good .bye' want to cross the moor before
it is too late" ,,,u have
q hard fight with the snow. Our shep-
berds renort II as very deep. But why are
Won tied for few hours 7"
al have left Tubbs; taught to last for
him but if / reach Leeds by tomorrow, l
NAV get a tutorship; for there was al au
vcrtisement relating to one In the last pa
per. So run home, Ste hen; I'll write 10
YOU from thence"
GRAY does not stay for any reply; but
seizing his coat and knapsack, hurrles to
the distant shed; here he changes his
shoes. and neither garments, and then, to
oct warm. sets off at a run, as soon as he
has dressed and swung his knapsack on.
Up the snowy road by the moorland crags,
on to the moor itself-a wild, wide waste
of whtened desolation.
Yet some traffic through the day marks
the road sufficiently for it to be easy to
find whilst light lasts and the snow holds
off; so he keeps on at a rapid pace; for
the whole distance now to traverse Is but
some six miles, and he is not without hope
that it will be easily effected. But pre-
sently the snow drifts get deeper, and BAT
he him more and more at every step. The
clouds, charged with snow, bring day sud-
denly to close and at last it begins to
snow heavily, as though the clouds had
burst. Still he kept his way not without
hope. But when the road becomes more
indistinct, when the rising wind whrls 1t
round and round, when the cold becomes
so intense as to benumb him, even Whlle
he moves, then he regrets his folly OF having
sighted the kindly invitation of Mr.. Field
ing's house. But Gray is proud man, he
has had the birth and education OF gen.
tleman, and he cannot 60 iaWnlng any
: where, unlimited, like beggar.
At last, hopeless of regaining the track,
thoroughly spent, and growing drowsy, ne
sits down on crag; the storm WhlrhDg
round him and freezing his blood. Inen
he closes his eyes, lost in that dreamy en-
f thanasa which precedcs death from cold.
From this he is aroused by something
warm and wet touching his handsome
thing living heavy on his knee. Reluc-
tantly-almost with difliculty-he asserts
suffi Gent will and voition to open his
, eyes and then he sees shepherds dog
: which rests it's paws upon his knees and
licks his hands. At the same moment a
loud halloa is heard. With still more dill
| ficulty than he had in opening his eyes, he
makes q faint'reply, for he is conscious the
, rescue is at hand. 1t is scarcely uttered
t before shepherd casts back binding snow
and stands before him.
: off you please, sir, you must come Win
3 us. AS soon as he heard Of the matter,
, Mr.. Fielding sent me and another of, with
horse and the dogs, on the moor after
, YOU; for no one, he knew, could live out
t such night" ...-.s .,
: But Gray could only family speak. So
the shepherds assistants, now coming up
with the horse, they place him on ii, give
him some whiskey they have with them,
and one mounting behind, so as to hold the
!, benumbed gentleman, the other leads the
!, way back to Graystone. But the way is
! hard to find, the snow so blinds and battles
, them, so lies in monstrous drifts, and the
cold is so benumbing; yet through this
desolatc waste they get at last, and by
, o'clock reach the hall. ~s.-.-
!, There, in the wide porch, whole group
|, of sympathizing friends welcome the poor
, gentleman. He cannot talk much, but he
! replies to the pressure Of their warm and
: kindly words. ........ ...-......
"There, take my arm and lean on me, I"
, saws the same gentleman for whom Gray
+ opened the gate Of the little lonely burial
ground this very morn ; "you have twice
served me to-day, once in manner IRE :,
payable so let me serve you IN luth'
!; Thus saying, Gray is led up stars 10 d
, chamber, where warm paul anu ul9
clothes await him. Cherlshed ANU re-
r freshed, he lies down on a sofa ana mas
, soun and wine and other restoratlves.
5 These taken, he sinks into sleep. zen
, he awakes it is 10 o'clock or more !; yet ne
, finds Mr.. Fielding seated beside him.
"God ever love and bless you, sir" he
saws, taking Gray's hand; "for to you l
i owe the life of my priceless boy. | can
l never repay you, for they have told me
all-your bravery, your goodness-every-
, thing. But you must not leave us, Mr..
] Gray, not for long time. 1t was [ who
3 advertised in the Leeds newspaper, for my
{ BOYS want master, and yon were the one
/ thought of, and should have liked; but
3 did not know you were leaving that mean,
: pompous, shallow, hypocrite, Tubbs. Make
? your mind happy, sir you have home
f here; tomorrow we will talk OF money
| affairs ! but be sure, even when your office
, ends, you shall find me- a sincere friend.
Now, do you think you are strong enough
9 to come down and see the Christmas tree
s and Sir Roger de Coverly danced. Mrs.
: Fielding and all my people want to thank
:, you, too" - -.%a
5 Oh. yes, he is strong enough; for shall
he not see the pretty Mariana, the idol OF
his dreams.
, So they go down arm-in- arm together,
and Mrs. Fielding and all the guests are
earnest and warm in saying grateful and
? kindly words; and there is Mariana, a
: little tremulous and timid, and still m ore
So when Gray gives her, off the Christmas
, tree, a small needle book, on which is
! freely wrought, Glove me, and I'll love
thoe."
GRAY sits down beside one Of the glow
! ing fires, whilst they dance Sir Roger de
f COverly. But by-and-by she leaves the
, ! 80, 5nro baei5a hin,