Northern Ohio journal. [volume] (Painesville, Ohio) 1872-1896, 1874-03-14

hangs ever the home of Ernestine Mon
tresser? Is the minister making the
family a visit? Are the women-folks
cleaning house? Won't the Kitchen
stove draw? Has Il mother-in-law ar
rived, or has the old gent been brought
home as usual on a shutter? No, noth-
ing of the kind. The angel of death is
lowering around and taking a birds
eye view of the premises. The fair
Ernestine is lying on a bed of sickness.
For years she has been at the point OF
death. (This is the affecting part of my
story, girls.) Ever since the night she
sent the unhappy Rodolpho out into the
cold world with Il broken heart, and
worried down that half dozen fried, she
had been ailing. For months now she
has not tasted food.
IT. said she one day as her kind
mother was bathing her feyered brow
with cold cruel, 'if Rodolpho were only
here: if ! could only gaze once more
upon those fair inaments and hear that
carrion voice before | die, I might get
better, and perhaps, dear mother, l
might put myself outside of a little
sausauge meat them. Please send him
postal card; it will only cost cent
x 4
Time rolled on, as it usually does, and
the chilly days of March were approach
ing. The leaves had all fallen from the
trees, and the buttercups and turnip
vines had gone TO rest. a violent storm
is rising. The wind whistles MOURN
fully through the heavy foliage and
plays solemn requiem eminently be-
lifting the hour of departure of one of
earth's fairest spirits. The angelic Er-
nestine is breathing her last. Her
friends are all gathered around her bed
side, and she is bidding them goodbye,
commencing with the Oldest. She has
nearly got around, when suddenly the
noise of carriage wheels was seen aD-
preaching in the distance-nearer and
nearer 1t approaches-a knock is heard
i'll the stable door-then the rattle of
dishes and bottles is heard ia the pantry,
and the next moment the door is flung
open and Rodolpho st. Henry bursts
into the room OH a hop and skip as ac-
tors do on the stage
oh. Ernestine, my Ernestine,' he
whispers in a loud voice as he rushes
slowly toward her, do | really behold
you once again-luok up. Ernestine,
am your own Rodolphy-do not die,
promise me you will not: live, oh live
for my sake, and | will Eever leave yon
more
New life seemed TO be impaired to the
dying girl. In a few moments that
flush of health came hack to her wasted
cheeks. Her pulse which had gone
down to zero. now rose to 80 i'm the
shade, and ere five minutes had elapsed
she had gained twenty pounds i'm flesh,
and soon after she expressed desire to
struggle with some cold yictuals, if
there were any left in the house.
But little more remains to be told.
The timely arrival of Rodolpho had
saved the life of Ernestine, and i'm few
months she was able to take Il little
Cruel and walk around the race-course
two or three times days daily. By care
tul nursing she eventually recovered:
and then, one bright morning in spring,
when the ivy and the cactus were in
bloom, Rodolpho led her to the altar.
which accounts for her altered condi-
ton in life.
Our story is ended, and now, if the
moral which have so carefully drawn
will only have the good effect fol which
it is intended, shall indeed be as hap
py as | am surprised.
THE END.