Gallipolis journal. [volume] (Gallipolis, Ohio) 1837-1919, 1869-02-11
with aiding untarnished upon is dell.

WIN SiiulIS uhtoi hiShSN "POH 10 Noh
cate leaves.
Thirty years from the time of the
commencement of this mournful histo-
ry, on bleak autumnal evening, a
rough country wagon drove into the
town of C. 1t stopped at the
aims-house; an attenuated form was
lltted up and carried in, and the wagon
rumbled away. This was Lucy Dut-
ton, brought to her native town to die.
She had been in decline for some
months. and the miraculous strength
which had so long sustained her in her
weary wanderings at last forsook her
utterly. Her sister had died some
time before; and the widowed husband
had soon after removed to the far West;
so Lucy had no friends, no home but
the alms-house.
One day, about a week from the
time of her arrival, Lucy appeared to
suffer greatly, and those about her
looked for her release almost inpatient
ly; but at night she was evidently bet
ter, and for the first time she slept
TRANQUILITY till morning. The matron
who was by her bedside when she awoke
was startled by the clear and earnest
gaze which met her own, but she smi-
led and bid the invalid "Good morn
ing" Lucy looked bewildered, but
the voice seemed to reassure her, and
she exclaimed; ''Where am l and who
are you? do not know you
A wild surmise flashed across the
mind of the matron; the long lost rea
son of the wandersr had returned
But the good woman replied calmly
and soothingly:-
"Why, you are among friends and
you will know me presently"
''Then maybe you know Edwin and
Ellen, rejoined the invalid; shave they
come? Oh, 1 had such terrible
dream! l dreamed that they were
married! Only think, Ellen married to
Edwin! Strange tits that l should
dream that"
''My poor Lucy" said the matron
with gush of tears, "that was not
dream; twas all true
"All true!" cried the invalid: ''then
Edwin must be untrue, and that can |
not be, for he loves me; we love each |
other well, and Ellen is my sister. Let
me see them; will go to them"
She endeavored to raise herself, but
fell back fainting on the pillow.
"What does this mean?" said She
"what makes me so weak"
Just then her eye fell on her own
hand-that old and withered hand! She
gazed on it in blank amazement.
Something is the matter with my
sight" she said smiling family, "for
my hands look like an old woman's."
'And so it is" said the matron
gently, "and so is mine; yet we had
fair, plump hands when we were
young. Dear Lucy, do you know me?
L am Maria Allen--I was to have been
your bridesmaid"
/ cannot say more-1 will not make
the vain attempt to give in detail all
that mournful revealing--to reduce to
expressive words the dread sublimity
of that hopeless sorrow.
To the wretched Lucy, the last thir
ty years were as though they had new
er been OF not scene, nor an incl
dent, had she the slightest remem-
brance, since the recreant and traitor
GUS lover stood before her and made
that terrible announcement
The kind matron paused frequently
in the sad narrative of her. poor friends
madness and wanderings, but the inva-
lid would say with fearful calmness-
"Go on, go on" though the drops of
agony stood thick upon her forehead.
When she asked for her sister the mat
ron replied
"She has gone before you, and your
father also"
''And my mother?" said Lucy, her
face lit up with sickly ray of hope.
Your mother has been dead twenty
years"
dead! All gone! Alone, old, dy-
God, my cup of bitterness
is full" and she only wept aloud.
Her friend bent over her, and ming
ling her tears with hers, said affection
ately: "But you know who drank that
cup before you?"
Lucy looked up with bewildered ex-
preston; and the matron added: "The
Lord Jesus: you remember him"
A look like sunlight breaking through
a cloud, look which only saints may
wear, irradiated the fearful face OF the
dying woman, as she replied !
"Oh, yes, know Him and loved Him
before l fell asleep"
The man of God was called. A few !
who had known Lucy in her early days
came also. There was much reveren-
,ial feeling and some weeping around
ler death bed Then rose the voice OF
prayer. At first her lips moved as her
weak spirit joined in that fervent ap- !
peal. Then they grew still; and poor
Lucy was dead-dead in her gray
laired youth. Those who gazed on
hat placid face, and remembering her
harmless life and patient suffering,
loubted not that the morn of an eter-
,al dav had broken on her "Nioht of {