Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1873-11-08

Oh 4! that terrible pain She had al
most forgotten it in her anxiety for
her child. 1t grew more and more in
tolerable. 1t seemed as though the
hailstones struck through into her
brain. What if they killed her Was
she afraid to die Visions of eternity,
of the heaven of her faith, rose before
her. Should she dwell with God and
the angels forever? Was it possible
that there never would be an end? No,
she was not afraid of death. But her
child, her husband-how could she
leave them? Not yet No, no, when
life opened before her :? She must live
to help John keep his promise. God
would spare her for that. How long it
would be until morning. How could
she bear the pain so long? Oh it
would be terrible if John should come
and find her cold and stiff John did
love her, oh so well. He had loved
her so long. 1t seemed so many years
since he first told her that he loved her.
1t was on the mountain side, in dear old
Tennessee. How far away it seemed.
How the sun shone and the birds
sang. How dreamy and bewildered
her thoughts were. How still the baby
was. Yes, she could feel his heart
beat. She no longer felt the pelting of
the storm. Had it ceased?
Her thought was answered by rush
of wind from a new direction. She felt
the great weight lifting off from her.
She was free Then-something struck
her. --.
The train went snorting into Win
throp just at daylight. John jumped
off and was the first to reach the ferry.
He had never seen Atchison so quiet.
With the exception of those who had
crossed on the ferry and a few early
risers who were hurrying up the street,
the town seemed asleep; but as he
passed Commercial street, he saw man
who was riding mule, coming down
in great haste, who cried out, elbow d'y,
John ?"
why, Jake!" he replied, sis that
you ? L allowed you was half way to
Denver afore now"
"We started yesterday, but we had
a powerful storm on the prairie out
here, last night. We CHANGED to be
right near to house and they let us
in; but it sent our wagons rolling
over and across the prairie, like
patch of tumble-weeds, and our oxen
are all stampeded I'm on the hunt of
EN-"
cit don't lcok like it had reached
Atchison."
" No /; I reckon it just took a streak. {"
John hurried on down the river.
The road ran so near the bank that the
steady swash of the water seemed un-
der his feet. The birds were singing in
the trees, and the sunshine came creep
ing down the bluffs overhead How
eager he was to get home that morning.
His heart was full of new plans and
new purposes. He could keen his
promise, and he would he would never
make Nancy's heart ache again by
breaking that promise. He stopped
suddenly-had the storm reached Sum
ner? The tall buildings along the
wharf were leaning roofess, one this
way, another that; as if the wind, COM
ing over the bluffs, had reached ust
low enough to unroof them. He hasten
ed around the foot of the hill there
lay the brick hotel, the boast of the
town, in scattered fragments on the
ground, like wasp's nest scattered by
= the housekeepers broom.
He looked around; three-fourths of
the town lay i'll ruins. How was it with
, his home? He ran up the street until
he could see where it stood. Gone
Not vestige of it left. And his family?
Perhaps they had escaped before the
7 storm; perhaps -. Scarce knowing
hot ha hn ,al b. Io L
l house that was yet standing, and with
t out ceremony opened the door. There
; was no one in the room, but on couch
| in one corner, white sheet "sunk to
{ the still proportions" of two silent
$ forms. Moved by some strange impulse,
Z he turned back the covering thatshroud-
ed the faces-Nancy and the baby
= Shocked, stunned, he sank on his knees
D and laid his face on that dear form.
s Who can describe, who can comprehend
I the utter desolation of that eour None
but those who have felt it. Oh, the
S thoughts and memories that crowded
q upon him-many of them bitter, regret.
+ full thoughts. But there was one mem
r ory for which he was thankful; that he
= had not listened to the tempter which
WHispeIeu W Hlm yeStermOrn InaG II
D would be weak and unmanly to yield tc
). her request.
/ They found him there an hour after
: wards, but he asked no questions, made
2 no reply to their attempts at consola
e tion, and they left him alone with his
/ dead.
a There was "hurrying to and fro" il
: Summer that day, for many were
g left homeless, many bruised and Grip
t pied by the storm. And the mourners
o who wended their way up the long hill
+ to the burying ground were as sad al
i though the silence had been broken by
/ the tolling of solemn bells. s.-Kan8a
r MonthEg.