The Fremont weekly journal. [volume] (Fremont, Sandusky County, Ohio) 1867-1877, 1873-08-22

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He did all he could to comfort her,
but in vain.
'You have stolen my love, and
( cheated me out of my heart" she
said; 81 shall meyer be happy again,
no. never"
Then he asked her if she did not
love him more than anybody in the
world, and if they had not been the
happiest couple in the whole village?
She could not deny this; but
nevertheless, she remained sad and
miserable, notwithstanding all he
could say. So he thought, Let her
cry herself out-to-morrow she will
be herself again" But she was not
herself again; for the next morning
though she certainly had ceased
weeping, she was sadder and graver
than ever, and pOintedly avoided her
husband.
Every attempt at reconciliation
failed; nearly all day she sat gloom
lily by herself, starting whenever her
husband came near her.
This state of things continuing
some time, he also began to grow
melancholy, fearing he had altogeth-
er lost his wife's love. Silently he
moved about the house, thinking
how to cure the evil; but no idea oc-
Cured to him; so at noon he went
out into the village, and loitered
carelessly through the fields The
rich, ripe corn waved like a golden
lake, and the birds sang sweetly
enough. but his heart was full of
sorrow. In the distance stood the
old Dreaming Beech, queen of the
forest it lowered toward Heaven. It
seemed to beckon him with its green
waving branches to come nearer like
a good old friend. He went and sat
beneath its shade, thinking of DAYS
gone by. Five years had passed
since he, poor miserable wretch,
had rested there for the first time,
and dreamt that pleasant dream.
How pleasant! for it had lasted five
years, and now-all gonel all gone!
for eVer-and ever.
Then the beech began to rustic
again, as it had done five years be-
fore, and to move its mighty branch
es; and as they moved there fell, as
then, the golden glittering sunlight
across its leaves, and through the
boughs peeped ever and anon the
deep blue sky. Then his heart grew
calmer and he slept. Soon he
dreamt that dream again of five
years ago. The woman at the table
and the little children at their play;
but now the faces were the faces of
his own dear wife and children, and
she looked at him with her large
brown eyes so kindly, ah, so kindly!
And then he awoke and found it
was only dream! More sorrowfnl
than before, he broke of a small
green twig from the tree, and went
home and placed it in his hymn
book.
The next day was Sunday, and as
they went to church the leaves fell
out at his Wife's feet. He turned
scarlet as he stopped to pick them
up and put them into his pocket.
But the wife had seen it and asked
what it was.
"Only leaves from the Dreaming
Beech, which is much kinder to me
than you are. Yesterday Twas rest
ing beneath it and fell asleep. 1t
wished 10 console me, for dreamt
that you were kind to me again, and
had forgiven everything; but it is
not true. The good old beech,
though tits noble tree, knows moth
ing about the future"
The wife gszed at him, and it was
as if ray of sunshine had crossed |
her face.
"Husband, did you really dream
thas?"
"Yes," he answered, positively.
And she knew it was the truth by
the twitching about his mouth, like
one who has difficulty in restrain
ng tears.
Sand 1 was really your wife?"
'RealIy your own true wife," and |
she fell on his neck, and half suf-
located HIM with kisses.
THANK God," she said, "now it is
Ill right again! I love you so dearly
how dearly you can never know.
And all these long weary days 1
nave been in such dread, lest was
wrong in loving you, and that God
meant me to have another husband,
and you another wife, for you GER
Iainly did steal my heart, you bad |
mani and there was deception at
irst-yes, you stole my heart, but
It did not do me much good, for you
1now things must have happened
ust as they did whether we would
or no." Then, after a pause, she
Promise me never to speak
of the Dreaming Beech |
lgain?"
Il never will, for ] believe in it as
much as You do, depend upon it,
though in a different way, perhaps.
And now let US paste the leaves in
the beginning of our hymn-book so
that they may not be LOST
Chambers Journal