The Union and journal. [volume] (Biddeford, Me.) 1858-1882, 1869-05-14

disgracefdl story, he was nearly wild.
| he took It harder than could wish
| Bentamin. Harder than / could wish.
| Poor man! don't know when have pit.
led anybody SO before, and truly, Bcnja-
min, am afraid shall have no appetite
for my breakfast; and you know II Is fish.
Dails to-day, and 1 am moro partial to fish.
balls than anything else. 1t Is too bad!
SO itis.'
And Miss DIsbrow sighed, partly for
her own loss, and partly for the loss oi
her nelghbor. =. ....... 49,.
Yes, Benjamin. There he goes. Yes
going to find her; and when he finds
her.what then; What then, I ask you,
Benjamin?' . ,.. .... -'.. t-.,,. o..
Benjamin did not know-hc had no
means Of knowing-so nc did not tell.
And after smelling of bottle OF cam
phor, Miss Disbrow went on: 1T does
seem to me, and always has, that II Mr..
Whiting had not been born idiot, he
might have known better than to marry
such petty bunch OF lace and feathers.
But a man Is always fool about woman
until he marries her. -
While Miss Disbrow, full Of wisdom and
sympathy, talked thus behind her glasses
and her windOw-curtains. Mr.. Whiting
went down the avenue to the depot, half
frantic with haste and horrible fancles,
blaming himself miserably, rs he went
on his miserable way. for his blindness
and carelessness, while thousand things,
overlooked and forgotten heretofore,
Strengthened and explained themselves In
the light of this shameful flight.
, Once In the car, the train, ut Its swift-
est, seemed to crawl like sick caterpll-
lar; and oh. how tediously often and long
they stopped ut every wood pile and ham
let Of shantics! Suddenly they stopped,
not much Of anywhere, and never started
again. ,,,,.
whats up nows' cried out Mr.'whlt-
Ing impatientty. .... ...
Nothing Is sp. A bridge Is doDn,' ans
wered somebody, In such q proyokingiy
cool tone that Mr.. whiting felt like ask
ing him to fight. we have to go around
three miles In a sleigh, and take the train
on the other side. Fine chance for q
sleigh-ride,' added the contented soul,
whose wife sat I'm the seat beside him.
crocheting very minute sacquc.
Sure enough! First IN hour OF ignOmln-
ious waiting, then the crowded, tedious
Transportation Of five hundred men and
women, aud each Of their five hundred
trunks, over and back. A cycle OF time
TO man with swarm of bees In his
heart.
But all things come round to him who
waits,' and ut last they steamed of be-
yOnd tho broken bridge. slower. though.
than ever; for the road was washed, aud
the train was heavy. Yet mt last that
ride ended also, although 1t was way
through the night, and finally daybrcak,
and even broad morning. before the be-
lated train reached Cleveland.
IL was too early for the street cars, and
being oh-time, there were no coaches In
waiting; so Mr.. Whiting started Mt once
to walk to the residence of his wlfe's faith
or.
The day had broken, rough and windy.
rs It always Is In the. beautiful Forest
City; and the clOuded sky frowned upon
..thc miserable husband, as well as the
walks. Even Commodore Perry, upon
his pedestal In the park, seemed to look
stonicr than ever, rs he gazcd upon the
Icy lake, with sort Of pity that fOrcbOdc
TO look down upon the human wrctched-
ness he had himself done with years ago
and ago.
Mr.. Whiting hurried on, hardly compre-
hending his errand, or what he feared,
until he came to the house Of his father
in-law-a pretty gothic cottage, set far
back on lawn, behind llnden.trees. The
house was shut up and silent; but Mrs.
Whiting was always a lark mt rising. anu
as her husband fundamentally looked mp
ut the window of the room they had so
often occupied, he saw her just looping
back the curtains, rs cheerful and bright
as q butterctp. And before he was half
way up the walk, she was through the
doorway. and down to meet him, smiling
like mOrnlng-glOry.
Il didn't expect you before tomorrow
she cried, In glrlish Joy. Il thought you
wouldn't get my letter In time. Nobody
Is up but me; isn't that splendid? Nobody
In the house? We will go down to break
fast before they know you are here.
Why, how delightful! could just hug
that old mail-carrier for taking around
my letter I'm time! But wasn't II magniii-
cent that Theodore happened to sec me?
lie said II was all luck and chance he did
not 20 out the other side OF the depot.
And we were just In time to catch the
Cleveland train ...
Theodore was Mrs. Writings cldcst
brother, Just on his way home from India.
And directly at the mention of his name,
stone of as many as twenty tons fell
from Mr.. Writings heart, which, In con-
sequence, felt lighter than spongc-bread.
so you thought you would come right
home with Theodore, instead OF going TO
Cincinnati to see Sarah Gae .on,' said he.
why. yes; Sarah Is here. you know.
Didn't write you that? All OF Us. BROTH
ers and sisters, are together, now you
have come answered Mrs. whiting,
growing sweeter with every word she
spoke, In the eyes Of the happy husband.
Mr.. Whiting never told his wife his
comical and tragical mistake, and she
never suspected the embroidered velvet
cloak and ermine furs he bought for her
that very day, were, In sober reality, thank
offerings.