Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1872-07-04

I" 1 am glad to hear it."
Annie turned pale, for the glance
Jones directed toward her was full OF
ardent fire; look which in him she
had never liked.
Finally Mr. Barker, having business
which required his presence at a certain
place before nine o'clock, rose and de-
parted.
Jones went also. bidding the Superin-
tendent net to forget to speak a good
word for him to the railroad men, as he
had experience on steam engines, hav-
ing often officiated in that capacity, in
place of friend of his who was some
times ill.
Mr.. Barker promised he would do
all in his power, and the two sepa-
rated.
The result of Mr.. Barker's interest in
Jones' favor was the obtainining of a
good situation, on one of the locomo-
tives, for the youth.
The latter did not now find so much
time to call on Annie. He was there
fore much surprised when one morning
he heard from his mother of the
young lady's marriage with Mr.. Barker.
What did you say, mother? Mar
ried married p' exclaimed Henry,
gnashing his teeth and speaking in a
voice as shrill as the whistle of his own
locomotive. "Do you mean that?"
| His eyes blazed like Goals of fire, and
his sooty face, fresh from his work, re-
sembled that of demon. Mrs. Jones
fairly drew back, shuddering at his fear
full aspect, although he was her own
son.
But when she saw tears driving down
his begrimed cheeks, she claspcd him
| in her arms.
"My son, my poor boy!"
"I don't want any of your pity,
mother. don'twant anybody's pity; for
| am wild II ain wild ~
=" Henry, o, Henryl Why, 1 never
dreamed of this; she never gave you
encouragement, 1 am sureT'
z" Didn't she? o, no She didn'tsmile
on me and show she was glad when l
visited her, eh? Why she it was who
! got me my situation?"
e. A friend she certainly was to you,
my dear boy; but your ignorance of
woman made you think more of it. o,
Henry, my poor boy, had 1 foreseen
this 1 would have opened your eyes,"
course him curse him ! curse him
curse herl Curse them all % screamed
Henry.
Be calm, my boy, my boyP'
"No, l will never be calm again.
This thing has ruined me. l would
like to trample his brown head under
my feet. 1 would like to tie a stone to
her neck and throw her into the sear'
-" Hush talk not SO. l expect them
here every moment to say good-by be
fore starting on their tour, and they
may overhear you. They will take the
eight o'clock train tomorrow night"
Henry started. He walked to the
window and sat down, all at once grow
ing strangely calm.
He sat there, looking out upon the
driving rain, the shaking trees, and the
broad river, lashed by the tempest; for
it was stormy day.
Would his mother believe her eyes?
When he turned his face toward her
again there was smile upon it.
He rose, washed his face and hands
and combed his hair. Then he got q
book and sat down by his mothers
knee.
Il knew you would get over it, she
said, stroking his hair. You have
your fathers fortitude, your fathers
will, my brave boy"
Again that smile upon his face.
It was like white lightning stream
ing over black tree.
"Ha ha mother; how you talk l'
"There are other girls in our village
who would be glad to have you."
She put her hand upon his brow. 1t
was clammy and as cold as ice.
We will speak of her no more. l
must not see them when they come"
This was just what Mrs. Jones desired.
$50 will go out for walk" he con-
tinued.
What, in this storm ?'
Yes, in this Storm
He was gone in a moment. She saw
him hurrying along, wrapped in his
great overcoat, toward the woods,
through which ran the railroad.
She watched him until he was out of
sight, then busted herself making prep
arations for tea, that she might have a
good supper for him when he should
come back.
He did not come. The newly-wed
ded pair visited her, and went away.
Evening came, but with it no Henry.
Mrs. Jones passed sleepless night.
Next day she went to the railroad Office
and made inquiries, as it was now
Henry's turn to be at his post.
But the young man had not been
seen, and his employers had engaged
another hand-a poor, but worthy man,
who had applied often, of late, for a
situation.
"Alas l'' thought Mrs. Jones; "can
it be that my boy has destroyed him.
self?"
She searched the village through and
through, without finding him then she
concluded that he had gone off to N,
town at the other terminus of the
railroad, to which he had been in the
habit of repairing "to see the sights"
as he termed them.
She was right. Henry had gone to
He there remained until seven o'clock.
Then he walked about four miles
along the track, and, glancing round
him to make sure that he was not OBJ
served, he looseued one Of the raiLsl
There was death in that loosened
rail
Heaven help the poor wretches who
should be made the victims of such
| iendish wickedness!
Henry's face showed no expression
of regret at what he had done, as he
ensconced himself in thick mass of
shrubbery, fifty yards from the spot:
That same terrible smile his mother
had seen was again upon his face.
His eyes, meanwhile. glowed like
Goals, his lips were white with wrath
his face was almost black.
i I,