Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1872-04-05
The Blacksmith's Story.
BY FRANK CLIyE.

BY FRANK CLIvE.
Well, no! My wife amt dead. sir, but I've lost
her all the same;
She left me voluntarily. and neither was to
| blame.
It's rather queer story. and think you will
agree
| When yeu hear the circumstances-'twas rather
rough on me.
| She was soldiers widow. He was killed at NAL
vern Hill;
| And when married her she seemed to sorrow for
But brought her here to Kansas. never want
to see
A better wife than Mary was, for five bright years
to me!
The change of scene brought cheerfulness. and
Of bappiness sTa Warmed Mary's cheeks and melted
| I think she loved me some-I'm bound to think
And as for me-I can't begin to tell how loved
| her
Three years ago the baby came our humble home
| And tier 1 reckon I was nigh to perfect happi-
ness;
How that little girls weak fingers our hearts to-
gether dreWi
Once we watched it through fever, and with
each gasping breath,
Dumb with an awful, worldless woe. we waited
for its death;
| And though I'm not pious man, our souls to-
| eether there
| For Heaven to spare our darling went up in
| volceless prayer.
And when the doctor said 'twould live. our joy
! what words could tell
Clasped in each others arms, our grateful tears
| together fell.
| Sometimes, you see, the shadow fell across our
But it only made the sunshine seem a doubly-
welcome guest.
Work came to me plenty. and kept the anvil
ringing,
Early and late you'd find me there hammering
and singing;
Love nerved my arm to labor, and tuned my
And though my singing wasn't sweet. it was al
mighty strong
One day one-armed stranger stopped to have
me nail shoe,
And while was at work we passed compliment
or two.
asked him how he lost his arm. He said twas
At Malvern Hill AT Malvern HILL Did you
know Robert May?"
That's me !'' said he. "You. you !" gasped.
checking with horrid doubt;
mystery out"
With dizzy steps led him to Mary. God Twas
Then the bitterest pangs of misery unspeakable
knew.
Frozen with deadly horror. she stared with eyes
And from her quivering lips there broke one
Wild despairing moan.
Twas he +! the husband of her youth. now risen
But all too late-and with that bitter cry her
senses fled.
What could be done He was reported dead. On
his return
He strove in vain some tidings of his absent wife
to learn.
Twas well that he was innocentl Else I'd have
killed him toO
So dead he never would have liz till Gabriel's
trumpet blew
1t was agreed that Mary between us should de-
And each by her decision would sacredly abide.
No sinner at the judgment seat waiting eternal
doom,
Could suffer what I did while waiting sentence
Rigid and breathless there we stood, with nerves
as tense as steel,
While Mary's eyes sought each white face, in
piteous appeal
God! Could not woman's duty be less hardly re-
Between her lawful husband and the father of
her child.
knelt down and said,
'Forgiye me, Johnl He is my husband! Herel
AllVeI not QeaQ!
raised her tenderly and tried to tell her she was
right,
But somehow in my aching breast the prisoned
words stuck tight!
"But, John, I can't leave baby" What! wife
| and child? ?" cried 1;
| " Must yield all All. cruel! Better that
| should die.
Think of the long sad. lonely hours waiting in
| gloom for me
No wife to cheer me with her love-no babe to
| climb my knee!
And yet yeu are her mother and the sacred
mother love
Is still the purest, tenderest tie that heaven ever
WoVe. .-.
Take her, but promise, Mary-for that will bring
no shame
My little girl shall bear, and learn to lisp her
fathers name!"
It may be, in the life to come, I'll meet my child
and wife;
But yonder. by my cottage gate. we parted for
this life
One long hand-clasp from Mary, and my dream
of love was donel
One long embrace from baby. and my happiness
was gone!
-RutfaIo Courier.