Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1874-01-13
NO.. H..

beautiful girl looked up at him tenderlv
and confidingly. There is wondrous
power in music for reaching down into
the human heart and awakening the
tenderer, soul-bOrn lustiness.
; Philip Bartol worked on for Deacon
Larabee through the summer. and those
who saw him work, and saw his outgoings,
were led to wish that they had help so
strong and reliable.
On the last Of August the religious So
ciety of Ashton held a picnic, and Philip
invited Clara to 60 with him. She went
with him gladly, and did not seek to con-
ceal her gIadness.
AT this same picnic party were upset
upon the lake, and two children would
have been drowned had not Philip plunged
into the deep water and saved them
Philip came forth drenched and dripping
from the lake, but he came forth hero
and the blessings which were showered
upon him by the parents and friends of
those whom he had saved more than COM
pensated him.
81 must be a sorry sight, he said. as he
stood dripping before Clara
ut was noble baptism ~ she answer
ed him. And she took his hand and there
were tears with her smiles.
And then he was ten thousand times re-
paid.
The cool days of autumn came, and one
evening Philip sought Dr. Palmer in his
private study. The doctor was plain.
practical man, upright and large-hearted
Philip stated his business fairly and
squarely. He wished to know If he might
offer himself to Clara.
81 have found in her all that can ever
I,.,,N N<~< - e
love her truly and well. She is my first
and only love. am an orphan, sir and
of relatives near and dear have none
living. My name has never been dishon-
cred, unless patient and humble toll may
be dishonor. Ofproperty have managed
to lay by enough TO purchase good farm:
or at least could nearly pay for it. |
have good education, which may turn
to account in the future. Touching my
anteceden.s, sir, have requested Deacon
Larabee to correspond with parties in
New York, and for the result ] refer YOU
to him.
The good doctor was really troubled.
This is not entirely unexpected he
said. IL saw the Deacon to-day, and he
told me what he had done at your request
Upon that point am satisfied But, sir.
| am very pOor-poorer than you think.
Even my home is mortgaged, and l can
not say that the horse which l drive is
mine. My labors here have been rather
OF love than of profit. Such labors feed
the heart but do not add to material sub
stance"
my good sir" replied Philip, with
pathos that was heart-reaching. II can
only promise you this: If you will give
me Clara for my life, and she will consent
so to be, will devote my life to her well
fare. am sure can provide at least u
comfortable home to start with. 1t has
been my darling aim to find home for
myself-a home where love and blessing
should crown my life. With your sweet,
pure-minded child for my partner be-
lieve the home will be mine"
The doctor could not find it in his heart
to say nay, and he told the youth he might
go and seek Clara.
| 1t was no uncertain errand beyond this.
Philip knew that Clara's heart was all his
own he had known it for months. But
would she consent to share his humble
home?
lie found her, and asked her the ques-
ton.
The great joy of life was hers when she
heard it; and she answered it upon his
bosom-heart to heart-to live for him,
and to love him always.
.'Will you buy farm in Ashton ?" Clara
asked. as they were planning one day for
the future
'Do you think you would like to live on
farm, Clara P"
ANY life with you, darling. Oh. Phil
ip, you don't know how love you. and
how sweet it will be to help you bear the
burden of life.n
Tears of joy rolled down Philips cheeks
as he held the dear one to his bosom.
"When we are married, my blessing,
we will decide upon our future home. /
shall wish you to select it,"
And the evening of the wedding at
length arrived. Before the invited guests
had assembled. Philip placed in Clara'>
hands large sealed envelope
1T is tor you to give to your father.
he said.
Shall give it to him now?" she
asked.
IF you look at the superscription you
will see that the present is hardly the
proper time"
! She looked and read
'For DR.. Amos Palmer. as slight token
Of love and devotion from his daughter,
Clara Bartol."
She blushed and trembled but she was
very happy.
us ii poetry?' she asked, feeling the
crumpling paper within the envelope.
mo, sweet love; it is prose"
In time the company was assembled.
and Philip and Clara knelt before the aged
clergyman. At the proper moment the
groom slipped the ring upon the brides
finger, and Clara caught. in the strong
lamp-light, dazzle and sparkle that
startled her. 1t seemed as il a living
flame had leaped from her finger. Philip
saw her start, and he caught her hand and
covered the magic gem from the light.
When the ceremony was completed, and
the happy pair had been duly saluted and
congratulated, Clara remembered the en-.
velope, and she carried and gave it to her
father.
| "Clara What is that pn he cried.
lie did not allude to the envelope. bu,
TO the stone that blazed upon her finger.
My husband put it there" she said.
DIR. Palmer was an educated man, and
he had travelled. He knew that the stone