The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-08-11

linen III sunshlne Oh love VIII thou bask ever
more.
From the GALAXY for August.
CLIMMERLEY GAP.
BY J. T. M'KAY.
I.
Henry Clay Glenning, telegraph ope-
rator at Lindenbury railway station, sat
at his desk as the dusk closed in a
Of gloomy April evening, dozen or
more years back. A tall, light-built
young man of maybe seven-and-twenty,
with full, close-cropped brown beard,
about the eyes and mouth, there were
troubled lines that seemed to indicate
some present, wearing care. The cold
North-easterly rain beat drearily on the
panes; the sashes ratified dismally in the
eddying wind. There was nothing
going through the line this hour and
more, and Glenning leaned back in his
chair in thought that his attitude showed
was not at all pleasant company. He
got up after while and took down his
hat and coat from the wall. It was
nearly by the Office clock. The sta
tion-master relieved him three-quarters
OF an hour; there was no train due until
the Lake Mail, nine minutes of 8. He
went out, and up the bleak, wet streets.
Getting home, he left his wet coat in the
passage, and passed on up the stairs.
He leaned back on the landing mi
mute, with eyes looking down, and face
compressed in distasteful revery. Then
he stepped forward quickly, and went
IN. Ehe table was set for two. Beside
it lady sat stitching upon some needle
work in her lap. Her cheek flushed as
he came in; but she did not look up. He
came and sat down opposite. The
angry flush remained; her lips were
firmly shut; she worked on, loop over
loop, and did not raise her eyes or turn
her head.
Mary" he said, his tone was low and
gentle, ''Mary, I want to tell you q
story
She glanced up askance at his face, as
though surprised. But her eyes went
instantly back to her lap, and her fingers
worked on, loop over loop. Glenning
went on; his voice q little graver, but
gentle and low as before.
"On the North Rock Road, Just be-
yond the Southdown Mills, there is lit
tie country. store, kept by one John
O'Neil and his wife, Jane. I've known
the pair by sight long time now
honest, simple, hard-working folks, and
prosperous, too, as things 60. They
have no boys and only one girl-Jenny,
after her mother. I remember her a
little, toddling thing, in pink frock and
gingham apron, as used to see her
playing about the place when went out
and in from the farm. She was bright,
merry child, and great pet at home. as
you may suppose. John was never tired
OF talking about her as child, and
praising her cleverness and winning
ways He vowed he'd make a scholar Of
her, if he worked his nails off to do it.
Well, tbs girl grew and grew, and last
summer finished the co irse of the com.
mon school, and in the fall won't off to
Fort Hill Institute, in Tidewater. The
old couple missed Jenny sadly, of course,
and found the old house lonely enough
when the girl was gone. Their only
consolation was their weekly letter,
which came in regularly every Wednes-
day afternoon by the through mail.
They used to come in together in their
old buggy, every week, on Wednesday,
in almost any weather, and get the letter.
1t got to be standing saying among the
men about the station, There's John and
Jane wants q letter from jimmy When
them coming over from the post Office.
troubled"
"'Mr. Glenning,' says John, we
haven't no word from our girl day.
It's the first time it's missed, and we feel
little doubtsome like. We want you
to send word by the telegraph, and ask
how it is
II sent the message to Jenny, at Fort
Hill:
"'No letter to-day. Anything wrongs?
I'm half IN hour the answer came
back:
Nothing wrong. Well and happy.
JENNY O'NEIL.'
THE old pair were in great glee over
their letter by telegraph They went
off as happy as birds That was about
2 o'clock At 3.15 this came" He
took out some telegraph slips from
his pocket, selected one and pushed it
across the table. She turned her head
and read
"Jenny O'Neil died here by an acci-
dent this afternoon. Will you break the
news?"