Lamoille newsdealer. [volume] (Hyde Park, Vt.) 1860-1877, 1870-10-05

availed nothing, and had [ known she was
going to certain DEATH [ could not have
prevented it. For once father thought me
foolish--sel6sh it might be. | do not
know but that he thought | envied Mar
gle; did not care what he thought if |
only could save her. -.r
"He is rich, Faith, and can give our
darling the home she has longed for, "said
father. ID. t.u.... ..
They were married in the autumn. Ev-
cry one congratulated me on the beauty of
the bride, and all chided me for my tears
as the carriage drove off and a tiny hand
kerchief huttered in the breeze. They
were to spend the winter in one of the
large cities. "My darling must have a
sight at the world and its wonders" Paul
Clifford said T .I.. N.as
Marge wrote often for the first year.
often for those days. We could have
mail only once during the week. How we
waited for those letters and how eagerly
we read them. hold in my hands now
the letter she wrote the first anniversary
of her marriage. 1t is yellow and crack
ed with age. 81 have great news" she
wrote. ga week tonight was born to us
little son. Give thanks for him, Faith,
and ask that he may live to be a good
man. [ think he looks like you, although
he has my eyes,; he gestures like father,
and altogether is promising little man.
! How much love him, how much | hope
for him." .. .. .
Afterwards came letters telling about
the little treasure. II had hoped to name
him after you, father, but babys papa
claimed better right, he calls him Paul"
She told us that he had learned to lisp
Grandpa and Aunt Faith, aud then--the
letters ceased. We wrote to prominent
men in the city where they lived, after
all other means of inquiry failed. We
received the answer that there had been q
Clifford, alias IIarney, forger in the city
staying in some obscure place, but getting
word of officers on his track, had fed
Father went to the city, AID came back
looking ten years older. He never told
whether he learned anything of Clifford,
but he could find no trace of Margie.
1t was eight years after Margic was
married, five since we had heard a word
from her, when one pleasant day in hazy
autumn time, father and | we're busy ia
king down the, rose bush which grew over
the piazza, the rose that first shook its
perfume on the air the June Margie was
born,- when the garden gate was opened
| thought the neighboring children had
come of an errand' aud did not look up.
care you Aunt Faith ?" a musical voice
asked, dropped the bush and ran to
father, who had fallen forward with the
words "Margie, Margie !" on his lips A
thinly clad but beautiful boy stood before
me II am Paul." he said, "little Paul,
and mama is here in the garden"
Margie had come back to us, como back
with her gossamer web broken, and no
strength to spin another. We could not
believe that the pale face and mournful
eyes belonged to our once brilliant Marge
and we never knew until years after how
rudely the wings of our bird had been
clipped, and her bright plumagc trailed
in the dust, 81 cannot tell you much of
him, Faith, | am his wife. Too late [
found he was unworthy Of my love. |
have had my romance, and its end is Bit
ter. | do not know as he ever told me
his true name. call Paul by mothers
maiden name. Paul Minden need not
blush for Paul Clitfords sins"
We could not keep Marge with us; we
knew that by the blush that burned in her
cheek, and the unnatural light in her eye.
One November afternoon we wheeled her
couch in front of the western windows,
that size might see the sun 60 down behind
the clouds he had tinted. Lifting herself
forward, she took Paul's hand, and point
ing to the clouds, she said cit is beauti-
full there, Paul"
eyes, mamma" .,.,
"It is a great deal more beautiful be-
yond there, my darling | am going there
to rest. Some day you will come; Twill
be there to meet you,-remembcr, Paul"
Turning to me she said, Il shall fnd.it
all as | have pictured it there, Faith,
green pastures and -" Her head fell
back upon her pillow, there was a gentle
sigh, the spirit was released, and Margie
entered the fair land and found rest beside
the still waters.
Paul was like his mother, but his nat
ural impulsiyeness was so tempered by
early sorrow that we had no fear that he
would give his fancy too great breadth.
Il Ii IL l. 4 L