Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1872-02-06


we've not seen a happy one since. =
And the old retainer wiped his eyes.
"Won't you tell me, Philip, why he
went away? I will never repeat it."
~ can believe you, my lady, and
I'm sure it's no mere curiosity that
makes you ask the question"
"No, it isn't" murmured Cora,
almost unconsciously, and sighed.
at was simple enough" Philip pro-
ceeded, in low, quivering voice.
You see my master wanted Egbert to
marry a certain lady-of course it
wouldn't be proper to call any names
and as Egbert had never seen her,
he wished to make her acquaintance
without any prejudice either way /;
but his father wouldn't harken to that
at all. This seemed unjust to Egbert,
and he told my master 80, quiet-like,
you know, but he didn't take it so, my
lady, and flew into passion, and told
Egbert if he didn't obey him he'd
disown him. Well, they are both high,
you know, and Egbert dared him to
it, and"
"Philip the word viberated
through the hall with a perfect roar.
The old man started and turned to
meet Warren Hereford's face blue
with passion.
"Have you been gossiping, you old
scoundrel ?" The sentence was rath-
er a reproach than an interrogatory,
and the next moment he offered Cora
his arm, urbanely remarking:
"You have neglected our aquarium.
l never thought of it until this min
ute, and hastened to find you. Philip
will summon the gentlemen"
OF course the lady smiled and made
an appropriate reply, but her mind
was on the large blue eyes, and the
white, gentle face that had beamed
down upon her from the canvas. She
thought it not strange that those fea-
lures should linger before her, but as
cribed it to the sympathy which Phil
ip's narration had aroused. Ere long,
however, she knew that it was love,
and love only, and the sudden realiza-
ton overwhelmed her with shame
and modification. But why? Should
love grow by prescribed degrees, be
natured by forms, and surrounded by
a high wall of ceremony, to keep out
its own natural ador and vigor No !
no 1t has come unbidden as the
flower comes from mother earth it
had come strong, earnest and pure,
and why was it not good +? 1t was
good its influence had already devel-
oped noble qualities in her nature, re-
vealed to her wondering self-hidden
gems of her mind and painted sky,
earth and sea with new and glowing
colors. But was it helpless !? No,
not while woman's wit could help
woman's heart
1t was night-the hour six. Vol
umes of black smoke curled lazily from
Manchester's thousand chimneys; the
throbbing, painting engines were still,
but the human machines, with wan ia
ces and bent forms, were moving slow
ly from the grimy mills toward their
wretched homes. Automatons they
seemed, with no thought or animation
beyond that inspired by the tolling
bells, which called them to work and
released them again to poverty
Amoug the ragged, oil-stained crowd
was one who had evidently seen but
little of this sort of life. His figure
was still erect; his features, though
sad, were not pinched; and his limbs
had not yet become accustomed to the
dragging factory gast. Pausing near
group of cotton-hecked children, he
took one in his arms, and proceeded
on his way, while several of his CON-
rades nodded their heads in mute ap-
probation. The little girl, weary with
over-exertion, smiled family through
her tears, and nestled her head upon
his broad chest. He answered with a
few kind words and increased his pace,
for slight as was his burden, his ex-
haustion made it heavy. Reaching a
small, dingy house, he pushed open
the door, and entered. A woman
stood near the fireplace tending ket-
tie of porridge, and talking to herself
in a low, querulous way. AS he placed
the child on the chair, she turned
partly around and said
$50 thee be hoeme again, Measter
Job, an all a-wore out wi thy work ?
1t be hard sure enough. How be the
girl tonight?