New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1872-04-14

served to show me it was only the peculiar
effect of the wind, and that no wheels could
have been heard, even if they could have
Travelled on the deep snow. My bands were
now dead to all feeling: could not distln-
guish what touched when laid my fingers
on the dog beside me. My sight; too. was =
surely going. l saw the faithful mastiff
only as dim blot upon tie dazzling
white. 1 began to fancyl that though l
could see no house in all the white ex-
panse of glazing snow, there might be one
even close to me. which / should pass I'M
knowingly; and then great babyish long
ing came over ne to cry-tO cry, with the
icicles thick upon my eyes.
And now all my strength was exhausted.
and without knowing az all how Tar l still
was from home, knew that the end of my
bank, perhaps, where the snow was deep
and soft, would rest. l was worn out,
and must sleep; the desire was Irresistible
and overwhelming.
Somebody was waiting at home for me
I knew that, vaguely and dreamily-at
home-a long way off. I'm 60 presently
when I've rested. Good dog! Good, faith
full fellow You want rest, too Beside
roadside gate, half buried in snow, fell. l
felt all the pain and anxiety going from me- M
as l lay helpless and 1notiOnless IN the
snow: and Welded at once to the fatal
temptation to sleep. which l had resisted as
long as / had power to do so. The dog,
which had until that moment kept close
beside me, ran at the gate and leaped 1t,
while l watched him sleepily, sorry he
should leave Inc. yet powerless TO en-
rice him back. There was a low, dis
tant singing in my ears, growing more
and more confused. My eyes were
closed and the snow-fakes covering
har 10
his head through the bars Of the wide gate
scattering as he did so. the snow that lay
deep On them), and pulled at my coat, shak-
ing it hastily and impatiently. l was only
dreamily conscious of his motive, and 1t was
more to avoid the worrying than to obey
him that rose with one last effort, climbed
the gate and tottered on beside my guide.
And now seemed to crawl through as well
as over the snow, that had drifted here
deeper than ont in the highway; and for
the last time l battled iiercely and deter
minedly with the lethargy which held me.
Was my faithful dumb guide leading me to
human help Iprayed aloud as stumbled
on that it might be so-prayed while could
feel that the power was still mine, knowing
it would soon desert me but fancy there
was little sound from my stiff lips
lis. help near, good dog, strong, faithful
fellow! No: all white and desolate White
hedgerows run. What a wide-solitary-
place-,o die. Good dog Brave friend
Leading me elp-and-rescue. How
it all Swims and rrembles- the-great-
wide-white-'
SECOND NARRATIVE.
> My poor brother is sleeping like an infant.
There fingers not in this sleep even a shad-
ow of suffering on the dear, worn face. l
kneel beside him, keeping my Christmas
vigil. Midnight has passed four hours: but
l can not weary Of my prayers tonight,
feeling SO grateful for my brothers ease,
feeling SO deeply in my own calm heart the
peace and promise of the Christmas morn
ing. Lean hear DO longer the crying OF the
night wind as it drives the snow before it
against my windows. The fury OF the
storm has worn itself out. Through all my
eighty years | can not remember snch &;
sudden and terrific gale before. l wonder
how long this comparative calm will last
II is broken already by a strange sound
without, a sound can not understand. 1t
is the quick. eager bark of dog. No; 1t Is
a human cry for help! No; uhat is l.! l
opened the window and distinguished only
a faint rubbing or scraping at the cottage
door. Something. surely, is wanted: some
help, perhaps which Our Lady, in her liz
finite pity, will allow me to give in her
name.
close our bedroom door softly, and pass
down the narrow stairs quickly as l can
ill nay lameness and my feeble old aga.
Without waiting Tor light, l open the
outer door, and there, in the light which
the SHOW gives, see a man living alone and
head upon the threshold. Dead, think in
Ivy first glance; but when raise him with
care and tenderness-a sob of pain rushing
up from my heart at the sight OF him
and take him into the fireless, cherries
kitchen, he opens his eyes and gazes round
him in vacant bewilderment.
stop he says, in a broken, eager wills
per. Where's the dog
| had looked around searchnglv while
the door was open, wondering whether the
man lying there in the snow had been
alone. and so l knew there had been no dog
with him. see that his mind is wander
ing. so only tell him. soothingly, that the
dog is all right.
Let HIM IN he says, moving back to
the door with piteous smile. is III your
dog! He has been very good TO me-
turn aside the question. l can not tell
him We have no dog. nor that there is no
other house near here, for II would betray
the alienation of his mind. open the door
just to satisfy him, and ne, still supported
by my arm, looks with NE out into the
silence. We can see distinctly all over the
white field that surrounds my cottage. but
no dog is there. | close the door. hastily
just as my visitor loses all power and con-
stiousness. Old as | am | can carry him up
the stairs. He is bu- slight young fellow,
with delicate, handsome face, which has
a certain courage about it, but is pale with
a CHASTITY pallor. l have seen many men
rescued after being lost in the snow. but it
seems to me that | have never seen one SO
near death as this.
His clothes are frozen: his fingers are stiff
and shrunken, with 10 sensation in them al
ALI and his eyes are tearfully bloodshot. |
carry him to our room, and undress him:
then l take my brother-wide awake now,
and troubled that he can not help me-out
OF bed, and lay the poor unconscious gentle
man IN his warm place. There is but slight
chance OF my being able to save his life, out
that chance must he tried to the utterlnost.
take my brother down in a blanket to the
old couch on the kitchen hearth; then pile
dry sticks in the crate, and soon have a
cracking tire to help me aud to
comfort him. Then | go up stairs again TO
my invalid, and taking one hand or foot at
a time out of bed. cllafe il with the snow |
have brought IN bowl. As soon as the fire
is ready and l have prepared it. dose him.
still unconscious, with cup OF hot mint tea.
He has been III bed almost an hour when
be awakes to consciousness. and starts up
with a wondering, agonized look into my
face.
Where am | ?" he stammers Have |
been to let in the Christmas
feel that the words are still the delirious
of a sick man, so l only soothe
him as best l may, and tempt him to an
other cup of the strong hot tea He rises,
with sudden, feverish strength, and gropes
for his clothes.
Il must go at once he says, speaking al
most clearly. Thank you. Dat must 90
On now home. The anxiety will kill my
wife. Has the day dawned T.
Not yet. 1t will not be daylight for three
haI1l.S Luz. tho L.