The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1874-04-30

! DttOlllt. HOW IL 10 anu
guessed at and commented on, shaken ant
| busted, and held up to light. Ii is not 81
pleasant to a sore heart yitally concerned
| in the matter in hand; it was like littl'
Judgment day to Ruth May. She had be
gun to distrust Mrs. Heale's truthfulness
she began now to find out the secret of he
own heart: she found too late that even
George had said all she had heard, Who'll,
nature nevertheless went out to him VIII
a love that was only not forgiveness be
cause it was love so mighty and so over
whelming that Offenses and sins were
swept under its great, glad rush, forever
and ever. And yet she was here and M
there-dyingi Five miles were a separa
ton wide as the wild wide sea for them
she had no right to 60 TO him, he coulc
not wish for her, he could not forgive her
Why should | recapitulate her slow TOR
ture? Some of us have known it, to the
rest it is a dead letter; can my words
make them understand what it is to have
few miles only lie between you and wha'
you love best on earth, and yet that briel
distance be practically the distance be
tween earth and heaven so far as power tC
pass it is granted you?
Of the two, poor little Ruth suffered
most; a raging helplessness possessed her
and more than once she decided to go tC
Hillside at all risks, see George and ask
his pardon at least before he died; but the
feminine instincts, and the restraint of the
world about her, stronger for a woman
than the bands of Orion, held her to her
daily routine that with thrObbing heart
and beating brain she pursued uniimch-
ingly in virtue of her Puritan grit; less
er martyrdom that lost its Palm for want
of a good motive. But things do some
times abate their dynamic force. PrOvi-
dence helps us when our f0OthOld seems
failing. One bright Saturday morning, as
Ruth was taking her daily walk, teverish
with represSed excitement, and taking il,
as she always did lately, down the Hill
side road. a horse and wagon suddenly
drew up beside her.
Il was gOin' after ye," said Jones, the
foreman; George is a dyin', L expect,
md he wants to see you"
Ruth climbed in without a word, and
Jones drove off like mailman. | wish
might make here a pretty, dramatic, pa
thetic scene; a scene of parting, forgive
ness, tears; pictorial death-bed of atti-
tudes and platitudes, all to end with a mi
raculOus restoration of the dear object,
anda grand tableau, but | can't must
tell the truth. at is my duty, and |
will :"
Ruth never got so far as the door, for
Mrs. Jones stood at the yard gate and
warned them off. George had fallen into
a quiet sleep; DR.. Barnes said it was the
crisis of his disease, and his life depended
on it. So Jones got down, turned his
wagon about, as if he went on egg-shells,
and, driving silently off, took Ruth back
to the Centre. But on the way they had
a very honest talk 4; he told her all he
heard in Mr.. Heale's shop, and she told
him what Mrs. Heale said, and this was
Jones's summing up:
"And you two hev jest ben twisted
round by tOnguey woman! md q tea
spoonful of common sense would ha'
Strengthened We both out. Why in thun-
der didn't one or t'other of We speak aOut
and ask what t'Other was up to? md now
he's dyin' and you'd jest as lieves your
self. Good Jehoshaphat ~ With which
curious expletive he whipped up his old
horse, and landed Ruth like a ghost in a
blue sun-bcnnet at her own door
| should stop here and recommend all
men and women (lovcrS or not about TO
quarrel to mediate on and accept JOnes's
Succinct advice; but know, in the first
place, it would be quite useless, and, in
the second place, if it could be useful what
should we poor hard-wOrking stOry-writ-
erS do for a living? Where would our
plots, our situations, our clearing-Otf fl
males, our repentant sinners, and our last
dying-Speech-a bel For
the good of the trade | fOrbear. But,
though Ruth cried herselfill. and repented
herself into abiect humiliation, she did not
die, nor did George; slowly and sadly he
came back 10 life, and endured the long
anguish of cOnvalcsccnce, but he did not
send for Ruth again, and she, who waited
trembling and eXpectant, dared not offer
to go to him. At length, one lovely day
in June, George was lifted into Doctor
BarneS's chaiSe. to take a little long
er ride than hitherto had been allowed
him. He had been as far as the store
twice, and summed himself ON the steps
there; once he had been to the minister's :;
now he SAID he was quite well, only weak,
and he must get to the shop, so the Doctor
said he should ride about a mile first, and
stop there on the way back. The air of
the wooded roadside was clear and sweet
enough to have revived the dying. BObO-
links chartered and giggled in the mead
OwS, the young grass and the new leaves
sent up their ineXpressible OdOrs all about,
the hillsides were pink with kalmia blooms,
and the south winds gentle breath was
like silent kisses on the face it caressed
After half an hours slow driving Doctor
Barnes turned into pair of bars-they
were the entrance TO Georges lot, and to
his wondering eyes arose vision; the
very little house whose timbers and boards
and shingles lay safe in the shed of his
shop. as he imagined, and its plan in the
trunk at Mrs. JOnes'si Was it really Il
house or fever-dream? He passed his
hand across his eyes, and the Doctor,
laughing, answered the thought:
''It really is house, George, and your
own. Half-a-dOZcn of the boys happened
to be out of work for spell, and they
reckOned you would like your house ready
to start with when you got round, so they
put to and run it up: 'twaSn't much of a
job; but | expect they'd like to see you
take possession, for they're all there. So |
said I'd fetch you."
They were all there to be sure, and no
less than four came out TO help George
out of the chaise and in at the door. He
was not fit to speak, but they spoke for
him.
Didn't we say we'd give you dona-
ton party?'' shouted Sam Hill "'nd
Aunt Nancy, she sent over some things
out of the Parsons garret that she said
you oughter have. and consider BILE piece
of hit-Or-misS carpetin' she wOve herself !;
so we tinkered 'em up and vanished 'em
over, and they look slick !"
Surely they did, -Four old high-backed
chairs, claw-legged stand, tall clock and
chest of drawers that had been Georges
fathers, and waited in the parsonage for
him to have a place for them; an old
splint-bOttOmed rocker that his mother
used till her death, for which Aunt So
phrony had furnished a red cushion and a
tidy; pair of brass tire-dogs shonein the
chimney, and the tongs and shovel were
dressed with punches of cinnamon roses /;
the room was so bright, so homely and
cheerful, that George felt great wave OF
gratitudeTise to his lips, and a sharp rock
of memory receive its swell and shatter it
to spray; for, where was Ruth?
Easy, boys! ~ said the watchful doctor,
seeing him turn pale. Lie down in the
bedroom minute, George"
Dear me how white and clean was the
bit of bedroom
''Thank you all-like everythingn'
George would say, before he was shut up
to rest.
"Ill come back to you in half an hour" +"
said DR.. Barnes, land the boys won't
bother you till then" George heard the
wheels go softly by on the turf, he closed