North Iowa times. [volume] (McGregor, Iowa) 1867-current, 1869-11-24
McGREGOR, IOWA, WEDNESDAY, NOV. "a, 1859

1
than Fiction. Es@a ... ia.
In San Francisco, on the north side of
Folsom street, overlooking Mission Bay,
stands a palatial residence.
The interior of this house is even more
beautiful than its exterior, every apart
ment being in its way gem Of mngni6.
cence and refinement.
The library especially realizes the most
perfect ideal of an elegant and cultured
home.
And yet, at the moment we look in up
on him-one August afternoon, a. he oc>
cupied his library-ths proprietor Of all
this wealth appeared Of all men the most
miserable.
He was Mr.. Norton Prebls, Cor many
| tears leading banker Of San Francisco.
Il Was in vain that the broad bay-win.
dow at the south end Of the. room had
been opened. giving ingress to the sun
shine and the fragrance of rare flowers
in vain that the walls were lined with
richly carved bookcases and paintings-
in vain that soft cosches and luxurious
chairs had been gathered around him.
He was wretched.
lie lay on q sofa, in the depths Of the
great window, the wreck Of once
powerful man. His figure was thin and
gaunt; his face white as marble; his eyes
having an expression of wonderful ap-
prehension, of narrowing anxiety, Of
dreadful expectancy.
1t was evident at glance that no mere.
ly physical ailment had made him what
he was.
By what withering secret, by what de-
stroying affection, had he been thus ago
nized? thus haunted? he so noble and
good he so wealthy and distinguished !
As he moved restlessly upon his lux
urious cushions the pretty clock on the
mantel-piece stuck five, every stroke
seeming to fall like hammer upon the
heart of the nervous invalid. He aroused
himself, struggling feebly to sitting
posture.
"Oh, will this fatal day never, never
pass p he mulmured; ''nor bring US re-
lief?'
Noticing with nervous start that he
was alone, he touched bell upon table
before him, and called:
"Helep, Helen where are your
Before the echoes of his voice had died
out o step was heard, and his wife entered
his presence.
II left you only for moment, Norton
she said, advancing to the bankers side
"You were doing, ! think. ! wished t.
send for the doctorl'
\ She was beautiful woman, Of som,
lsixan thirty years, graceful, with broat
white brows, and loving eyes, in which
the brightness and sweetness Of sunshi-
my nature were still perceptible, under .
grief and anxiety no less poignant thar
that evinced by her husband.
"The doctor p he echoed, halfre
proachfully.
ayes, DEAR" she said, in calm and
cheerful voice, as she drew chair to the
side of the sofa, and sat down, stroking
the corrugated forehead Of the invalid
with magnetic touch. ''He will be here
Immediately. Your last nervous crisis
alarmed me. You may become seriously
I'LL"
Mr.. Preble bestowed an aHectionat
look upon his wife, but said despondently'
"The doctor! He cannot minister to a
mind diseasedr Oh, if those long hours
would only pass If only knew what
the day has yet in store for usr'
"Look up, Morton! !" enjoined Mrs
Preble, with reverently trustful glance
upward through the open window at the
blue sky, and As if looking beyond the
azure clouds therein. "Let Us appeal
from the injustice and wickedness of earth
; to the goodness and mercy of Heaven r
The banker gave low, sobbing sigh.
II cannot look up, Helen," he answered
with passionate tremor in his voice
! "only down, down at the grave that il
opening before mel"
Mrs. Preble continued to stroke hi
forehead softly, while she lifted her pale
face to the sunlight streaming into tht
apartment.
"Look up, Morton-always look up!
she again enjoined upon the invalid
During all these fourteen years Of agony
have not once doubted either the good
ness or the justice of Heaven Blessed arr
they that mourn; for they shall be com
: forted.' believe that we shall yet re-
> joice more keenly than We have mourned
, and that We shall come to glorious day
Of joy beyond all this long night Of sor
rowv'
The face of the invalid lighted up will
IN answering glow, and he murmnred:
"Glorious faith My wife, you are in
deed a blessed comforter /! Perhaps, after
al, you are right"
A knock resounded on side'door O.
this juncturc, and the next moment DR.
Hutton, the family physician, for WHOM
Mrs. Preble had sent, entered the room.
He was an old man, portly in figure
with white hair and beard, but with {
fresh aud ruddy colnplexion, . rair o
shrewd blue eyes, aed with an exuberan
boyishness OF manner that sat we'll upor
him. lie had kind heart and cleal
head. lie approached the sofa, afte'
greeting the husband and wife, and liftet
the thin restless hand Of the invalid, feel