The Tiffin tribune. (Tiffin, Ohio) 1868-1887, 1869-12-31
TIFFiN. OHIO.


years had wrought changes as radical
and ~ marvellous as those of the kai-
eidOscope. Instead Of a provincial
town there Was a considerable city,
and city more full Of energy and Vi
tality, as well as of "brag,' than any
city in the world. Pianking had Civ
en- way Ia the persuavive nicholson"
long rows OF wooden ''shanties" had
Welded up their standing room To cost
ly stone and iron bridge after bridge
had spanned the sluggish river; the
stream itself, from a mere muddy
Drairie-creek had become a reeking
sewer, 10 get rid of whose foetid breath
was the subject of anxious considera-
ton to more than two hundred thou
sand people.
The shadows of a September even
ing were slOIly closing in, yet the
roar Of the busy city did not seem Ia
lull. At intervals the horse ears went
rumbling by, packed full and running
over with tired men seeking their
comfortable homes far out in what
had been commons and cOrntields
nineteen years before and the tide of
hurTyinS pedestrians which flowed
along the broad sidewalks seemed To
know no ebb.
I Near one of the busiest parts of the
city, little "fancy store" in a modest
wooden house nestled shyly between
two pretentiOus "marbie fronts" It
bore OH its face-the traces of Il former
era, and il was evident that its sue
cessor would lie of signally different
style. Inside, young girl was daint-
! iIy putting i'm order some laces tum-
bled by a Just departed visitor, and
slowly and tenderly manipulating the
soft meshes with all the feminine
fOndness for the delicate web. Draw
| ing piece of the foamy fabric about
her white neck, she turned 10 a little
mirror behind the narrow counter,
and stood dreamily contemplating its
effect. She was startled by Il quick
tread and a rough but manly and
pleasant voice:
pardon me, miss, but can you tell
me do these streets bear the same
names they did twenty years agow
"Pm sure / don't know, sir" she
replied, with little pOut and blush,
as she busily folded up the lace with a
half glance at the amused face of the
questioneer. "Aunt Mary can tell
you all about it, though; and if you'll
wait a moment, pll call her."
She fitted away through door at
the rear of the shop, but returned al
most Immediately, followed by n much
older lady, clothed i'm sober black, with
grave but pleasant face on which
We're drawn the unmistakable lines
of sorrow and tears, but whose express
/ ion plainly showed that these had not
narrowed the heart nor embittered the
spirit.
The young man repeated his ques-
| ton.
ayes, sir; the names are the same,
but their features have changed in
that time. But you are too young to
have known them so long ago"
Aunt Mary slowly drew nearer TO
the young stranger, her eyes fixed al
most wistfully on the fresh, ruddy
face, while the color which yet linger-
ed in her rounded check, came and
went fitfully, and an unwOnted light
mOistened and trembled in the habit
ually pensive eye.
"Yes," he replied, 81 knew them,
but my recollection of them is very
dim and faint. | am. asking for my
father, who was very familiar with
them then, and is now looking about
just outside there To see if he can iden-
tify some property he once owned in
this vicinity"
"Please ask him to step inside. Per-
haps | can give him some infOrma-
ton. have been familiar with this
part of the city for many years"
A paleness crept over the kindly
face as she watched the young mans
elastic, swinging tread, as he passed
out to the street. "How like his
walk % came through her lips, more
like the ghost of u forgotten whisper
than artieulate sounds. A book,
which she had been reading, and was
still holding, was laid nOiseleSsly
down, and with hands clasped closely
against her bosom, she stood fiXedly
watching the door.
Presently father and son entered to-
gether. California suns and Colorado
winds had Drowned the once thin and
colOrless cheek; the dark locks had
changed to irOn-grey, and the wild,
free life of the remote West, the
healthful toll and exposure of the
mine and the camp, the CHEEKY COM
paniOnship of forest and river and
mountain, while keeping the spirit
fresh and free from moody repining,
had even at that period of life, broad
ened and strengthened the frame
But all these changes could not con-
ceal the individuality, and Robert
Barnes was as unmistakable in his
hale and deliberate mOuntaineer, as
i'm the hurrying denizen of the city Of
nineteen wears before
''This is my father, ma'am-RObert
Barnes"
eyes, madam; Harry tells me you
are quite"
He stopped abrubtly, and gaZed at
the woman before him, who, with
streaming eyes and parted lips, looked
eagerly towards him, and murmured,
i'm tones ehOked low:
answered O infinite Father! an
sweredI Obert-husband-- at last
Oh at tW and, tOttering forward,
she seized his unresisting hand, and
clasping it closely in both her own,
looked eagerly into into the brOnZed
face, where surprise and joy and love,
and the smOuldering fires of half-fOr-
gotten anger and distrust, seemed
struggling for supremacy.
He would have signed to the young
people To leave them alone; but she
led him still unresisting into her little
sitting-roOm at the rear Of the shop,
then softly closing the door, she re-
leased his hand, and, still looking into
his face, said:
"NOt one kiss for your wife, Robert,
after so lOng-sO lOng?" and the low
voice chOked and the clasped fingers
grew white under each others pres
sure
"HOw is it possible, Mary-?"
She laid her finger on his lips.
"Hush ~ she said. az can guess
all you would say" Hastily throw
ing open n writing desk, she took
from it an old, yellow, folded paper,
and giving il to him, continued,
"Read that before you judge me-"
The writing was irregular and
scrawling, as if done by one in great
haste or with shattered nerves. Mr..
Barnes read the few lines three or four
times through before he seemed to
take i'm their full significance. They
ran:
NFw YORK, August Z, 1913.
My DEAR WIFE Come To me at
once. Harry is very i'll, and, worn
out with care and watching, my own
health Is giving way. / send this by
private hand To Mr.. Jeremy, who will
arrange for your departure, and pOssi-
bly, may accompany you part of the
way. ROBERT.
There was brief silence. Then he
laid the faded letter softly down, and
whispering, with hated breath, 81 see
it ALL see it ALL" held toward her
his trembling hands. a smile like the
memory of GhildheQd's sunny morn
ingfiushed through her lingering tears, |
and the weary burden of twenty years
seemed to be lifted from her life like |
the mists of the night, as the strong |
arms closed around her again, and she |
heard the familiar voice, speaking |
rather to his own heart than to her, |
''HOw can over atone for these twen- |
ty years of WrOng?' Il
ObliY Gus of the young people wait
ing and wondering in the next room |
-Oblivious of all the world but them
calves fhau 1OOta1 in oach otharjS 1