The Forest Republican. [volume] (Tionesta, Pa.) 1869-1952, 1874-06-17
CHAPTER II.
IL hear voice you cannot hear,
1t tells me not TO stay;
l see a hand you cannot see,
That beckons me away"

The bright sun shone as calmly
down, next morning, over wreck and
ruin, as though no sorrCwing heart,
mourning over lost homes and lost
possessions, were there to welcome
him. 1t shone also, on the pale, peace
ful features of the dead, for there was
a corpse in our little village. The no.
ble stranger Of the night before had
committed suicide lie had come to
"The Inn" only the evening before,
and the proprietor had found him next
morning lying back in an easy chair
beside the window, with his face up
turned TO the solemn sky-dead quite
dead Shot through the head by his
own hand The powerless hand, small
and delicate as woman's, had fallen
over the arm of the chair, and the re-
volver lay ON the floor by his side.
On small stand near him lay the
miniature Of most beautiful woman
in gold case, set ronnd by diamonds
of priceless value. Enough of the
bust was visible to disclose a dress of
blue satin, and there was a simple
turquoise necklace encircling the fault
less neck. The face was exceedingly
fair, with large deep blue eyes, and a
white regal brow, from which the part
ed hair fell in natural curls of rich
golden brown. The mouth was un-
commonly beautiful, and there was an
expression of angelic sweetness and in
nocence characterizing the whole face.
On the stand also, was a sheet of fools
cap paper, bl6tted and blurred, and
evidently written over at intervals dur
ing the night. 1t was as follows:
death has no bitterness like life,
Life, with a wasted heart. Miss LdndOR.
GLOW truel Unhappy L. E. L.!
But she is at rest little prussic acid
put an end to her sufierings. After
"Life's fitful fever" she sleeps well.
"The rain has ceased. Some pros
pect of clearing. Dreary enough not
withstanGiug. Dreary without, lonely
and desolate within. How tired and
bruised feel If | could but sleep /;
but there is neither sleep for my eyes,
nor slumber for my eyelids.
"Strong and well, not yet twenty
seven, and so weary of life o GCd
this intolerable weariness and restless
ness! What lifetime Of misery be-
fore me! | will not endure i'll But to
rid myself Of this accursed existence
without sin. Impossible! Only the
Creator can say: 81 lay down my life,
that might take it again. No man
taketh it from me, bat I lay it down
Of myself 1 have power to lay it
down, and | have power to take it
again" The power to lay it down,
and the power to take it again, being
equal; both rest with OMNIPO-
TENCE. To rush uusummoned INTO
the presence of God Fearful /!
Wretched man that l am. o Godl be
merciful! ANY other, and that raging
river would have engulphed him, but
no. Well, for the old people perhaps,
it is better. They at least find life
tolerable. They are together.
"How her face, pale and pitiful,
haunts me tonight! 1t looked up at
me from every flame of the fire till l
put it out; peeled over my shoulder
in the mirror; cleaned up at me from
between the blocks Of ice in the black
river; followed me through the dark
ness everywhere. There it is now,
! looking i'm at the window Hark, she