The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1871-05-11

I0f my efEOfS, -Ilade nasty toll
let and hurried down. But George
had gone-gone to his little store
two miles of in the little village,
and without his breakfast All!
my punishment had just eommenc-
ed now, and I sat down and wept
bitterly. A fit of weeping relieved
me, and I soon set to work to make
up for lost time. In a little while I
had put my cottage in order and
then set about preparing some
thing for Georges lnnch, resolving
to carry it to him myself Placing
q portion Of all the rarest delicacies
I could make in little willow bas-
ket, I placed a nice white napkin
over them and, covering them all
with the lid, tied on my bonnet and
cloak and started.
He was not in the store when 1
arrived, but / gave the basket to the
clerk and tod him to be certain to
give it to MI. Clifford when he came
in, which he promised to do, and
with feeling Of relief, I hurried
home. I felt that he would draw a
pleasant inference, from the fact of
my having Balked two miles alone
to carry him something nice to eat,
and Ilonged for the hour to come
when all would be forgiven and I
could again lay my head upon his
bosom in confidence and love.
That day I busted myself in ar
ranging everything as he loved most
to see it, and planning out a course
for future action, that the misery Of
the previous night might never be
repeated.
Evening deepened into twilight
as I put the last stitches in a beau
tiful silver gray dressing-gown for
George; and with that and his new
embroidered slippers placed before
and on his easy chair, I lit the
lamps and laid the cloth for tea
Hours slipped away, and still he
came not. I grew alarmed and
paced the lawn in the widest ex-
citement. I paused ever and anon
to listen, but the silence drove past
me in wares; not a sound could be
heard, and the quiet stars seemed
to look down upon me in mockery
of my agony. Oh! how I longed
for the sound of his light football,
and to feel the pressure of his lips
to mine!
At distant step broke the
stiffness, and with half-s1nothered
cry Of joy bounded down the path;
but a pangiike the stroke of death
pierced my heart and palsied my
limbs and / stood riveted to the
ground.
Slowly and evenly came the beat
ofmeasured footsteps and the broad
moon emerging from a rift of clouds
cast a silyery radiance over a party
approaching me. I saw one man
detach himself and come hastily
forward, as he discovered me in the
path, and with a feeling as of
weight of ice to my brain and heart,
I waited bis approach with sus-
pended breath. I did not wait for
him to speak, for 1 OWNED his OBJ
ject.
sTelI me at once-how did it hap
pen2"
The sound Of my own voice start
led me, it was so changed.
81 am sorry" the man said, 'to
be the bearer of such shocking
news, dear Mrs. Clifford, but we
feared the consequences of a sud
den disclosure. Prepare yourself,
my dear"-
''How did it happenY' I again
asked, desperately.
''Hewas thrown from his horse
and his head struck against the
pavement"
Thrown from his horse?' 1 said
slowly. ] seemed in the dream.
''Yes. madam, or rather mine
You see he had been rather stupid
and unweEl all day, and the clerk
said ne seemed so mournful and
sad looking I urged him to ride
my horse, he looked so tired, and
he accepted it, saying he would
ride him back in the morning.
But he Aad gone but a short dis
tance when the horse took frightat
something and, rearing suddenly,
threw Mr. Clifford to the pave
ment.
Sand killed himf"
'FYes, madam"
A tremulous sob accompanied
the reply. begged they would
stop as they came up, bearing my
dead darling, and I kneIt there in
the pale moonlight, and showered
kisses upon his beautiful, upturned
face. 1 could not weep. The
blessed tears that would have re-
Heyed my strained nerves were de
MED me, and only piercing shrielss
of agony told of the conflict IN my
bosom.
Oh, Cod who shall tell the ago
ny that raeked my soul that night,
as I sat beside my dead husband,
gazing upon the beautiful lips from