The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1869-04-30

MINUS HOlO SNth nuA WIN OOl0s
''Had Lucy returned % That was my
first thought. How could escape from
my prison That was the second.
eff Lucy had not returned, surely, saw
age as the keeper vas, he would have pity
and go in search of her. and there would
be some movement to indicate her absence.
Reasoning in this way tried to soothe my
fears in regard to the poor child, and for
get my own smart and pain in thinking
how could escape from the wretched
place.
1.-THE cocks crew, and 1 knew it was
past midnight; and hark somebody was
at the door, for saw light through the
keyhole.
Lucy, Lucy" whispered, with my
lips to the lock. Deary me it was only
the crazy old woman going her rounds.
"Did you hear the cock crow % she
asked.
"Indeed did. Open the door,
''The hens have laid golden egg. If
open the door will you go and find it, and
bring it to me before the old man gets it 2
Ny heart leaped. Perhaps I could es-
cape through this oazy creatures foolish
fancy.
'First tell me, mistress, has my sister,
Lucy got back And did she get the
liniment for old Skies %
"Now, that think of it, it is that mis-
erable wench that has run away with all
the golden eggs and that is why she
hasn't got back" growled the woman.
care you sure mistress, dear? If you
would only go to her room aud look, and
see il she is there. Perhaps you will find
the golden egg under her pillow"
The poor crazy creature, chuckling at
the idea, groped Eer way from the door,
with the tallow candle Pickering at every
step, but presently returned to say the
child wasn't there, nor had she been in
bed that the keeper had gone to sleep
half tipsy, and forgotten about Skies, who
il bis turn had been relieved of his rheu-
matism; and-she saw it all as plain as
dsy-Luoy had run away with the golden
eggs. -
"Let me out, and I viii follow her. sd
bring you back every golden egg Sic
stolen,' - cried.
$50 the old dame gave me
and some bits of bread from
aud went out never 90 them
looked back at the old creature.
stood ohattering, with the candle
hand and could have cursed
one. But didn't, miss, foI
my poor, poor Lucy.
The poor-farm was, as / haVeS
mile and half from the village. TEssroad
between US was never much trodden and
there was no trace of anything having pas
sed over the newly fallen snow but the
small footprints. which must have been
my sisters.
These were distinctly visible by the
light of the moon and stars and when 1
saw how deep they were, and how she had
fallen here and there, q terrible fear seized
me /; and forgetting the pain and stiffness
of my wounds, ran forward as fast as
ever I was able.
Suddenly I became conscious there
were double tracks. She had succeeded in
reaching the village, and had returned to
the plain, where she had lost the path ow-
ing to the darkness.
''This had been what most feared and
yet it seemed as if hand of ice grasped
my heart, as I stopped to examine the way
she had gone. There were her haIf-oblite-
rated footprints, leading out into the open
field, with the pine forest and frozen lake
beyond.
al stood up and shouted her name till it
seemed as if every one at the poor-farm
must hear my cry; but there was no an
sTer.
81 followed the faint footprints as best
could, till they entered among the pines,
and there I found her, leaning against q
tree, clasping it with both arms"
"Oh. Margie how glad 1 am that you
found her She had not forgotten what
you had told her-she had kept walking"
Eyes; and think when she clasped the
tree, she thought she had found me, and
believed she was holding me close to her
breast, for she was pressing her lips to it,
and smiling just as when parted, and it
was the smile she never gave to any but
me-"
''Aud she knew you. Margie? She was
not afraid of you cut there in the pines 90
''Ah, miss, Lucy was as cold as the
snow, and almost as white. She's dead 7
and the echo answered, 'dead.'''
(To BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK..