Weekly Trinity journal. [volume] (Weaverville, Calif.) 1857-1972, 1868-12-19
Gentle Ashe.

Gentle Ashe is dead Close the pallid Inns.
and fold the thin white hands Go mufie the
peI and hang the door with Grape IT'S so
iong-so many weary months since she slept one
hour OF peaceful sleep let this that knows no
waking be undisturbed. Nay, let that window
De open, the draft cannot harm her now The
cool wind may kiss off those CHASTITY damps from
Inc iorenead and play with the long sken hair.
Once TINS was curls-a showery mass that mes
Iled about plump shoulders or a stray one
lifted roguishiy by a passing breeze touched
nl1npled cheek, but curls and dimples do not
nnger when tears bedew the pillow nightly.
FIRST, as the cheek grew thin, the dark mass was
prushed away in waves presently the face was
wan and white, and the long hair hung in
Strengthened tresses from the bowed head. Oh,
1t was pitiful to see those eyes look away off
across the water, with such a wistful, longing
gaze-as If her very soul would go over the deep
to meet the wanderer who held afar off the
Tightening cords of her heart | wonder if dis
lance or space could prevent his feeling the
swapping asunder of those cords to-day won
der II remorse tugs at his heart-strings and pic
lures the ruin that he has wrought. This little
room holds the history of her life, bounded only
by five years-for she counted only the time
since she saw him. There is not much to tell.
wealthy widows only child, she gentle
and fragile. She loved him for himself; he
loved her for her mothers gold. They were mar
ried in this room, where few months ago they
had met. The roses were budding that vine
when they sat in the window ana plighted VOWS.
and roses blossomed in plenteous profusion when
the marriage rite was spoken. l remember she
plucked some that day and said GO Farley, these
are tbe roses of my life; if you love me always
as now their bloom shall be perpetual" Poor
girl they hloomed longer than he loved her.
The cautious mother boarded her gold beyond
his graspng hand, and he wearied of his shack
One he xvif
goodbye. Business would take him into the
country for day, he said. Next day she read
his name among the list OF those who had sailed
for New York one hour before. We found her
sitting here, her hands elapsed her lips tightly
pressed and her eyes dry. She never cried out,
and never spoke his name except in tenderness.
but have heard pacing feet, and low, moaning
sobs in the room long after midnight. She
watched always for his coming, and she faded
day by day. At last when long months had
brought no letter, no tidings, no husband to her
aching heart, we knew Despair had folded her
in his embrace, and she would never smile
again,
Once as her mother gazed upon the patient
sadness of the wreck he had wrought, she cried
out in agony of tears q Oh my child | can
not giveyou up curse him and live -
She answered meekly: He is my husband
The words would choke me. God bless him,
and God help my poor mother"
Then she grew weaker and spent all her hours
here, lying on the cushions by the window and
gazing off on the blue waters. Sometimes |
found her face pil!owed upon withered roses,
and there was always locket with two pictures
upon her breast. She never slept but moment
at time, and she never murmured, though she
suffered greatly This morning she called us to
her and said: % 1t is four years to-day since he
left me. am going. now, mother, don't grieve
shall be at rest. If he comes when am gone,
tell him that tried to wait-that never chded
Tell him that | loved him with my dying
breath" She was dead. And now there is
only this precious clay, with
"The knell, the hroud, the mattock and the grave:
The deep, damp vault, the darkness and the worm -