Knoxville journal. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1874-1986, 1875-07-08

nest prayers than Aunt Jemima; and, since
| he had come to the city to live her yearly
visits were looked forward TO as one of the
sunshiny days of their lives Bessie was
| warmly welcomed, as indeed she was
everywhere, for her gentle manners and
| loving heart had made for her many
| friends.
Il am so glad you have come, my dear"
said Mrs. Olmstead, "for we have an in
| valid here who gets somewhat lonely with
no young company about Perhaps you
remember my brother Harry believe he
| used to be school-mate of your sister
Maud. Well, he returned home very sud:
| denly three days ago, and the awkward
fellow slipped on the icy pavement just aft
er leaving the train, and now he has
sprained ankle that will keep him pris-
| oner for the next week"
Bessie did remember the rollicking boy
who used TO carry her sisters books for
her, and who sometimes would take her
to ride ON his sled, and always had such
splendid stories to tell her; and how well
she remembered when he used to get his
mothers permission to spend the evening
with Maud and her, how he would make
a horse of himself, and she would ride
| mounted on his back like very queen on
and handsome, blue-eyed, tawny-bearded
young man entered the room, leaning ON
a crutch. His fine, expressive counte-
nance lighted up with real pleasure as he
recognized Aunt Jemima.
q hope you are quite well, auntie-and
really you lock well You just look like
the same Aunt Jemima who used to feed
| me on doughnuts and strawberries and
cream when l was staying with my sister
at the parsonage"
Bessie was sitting where he had not OBJ
served her. She now came forward with
an easy grace and offered her hand.
You have not forgotten the little girl
whom you used to draw on your sled and
invent fairy stories for, ten years ago, have
| ysu, Mr.. Mortong'
g Bessie-Miss Goodwin, this is indeed
pleasure"
+" 1t is quite an unexpected one TO me,
Mr.. Morton. l thought you were in Eu-
| rope"
"And so have been but not all the
excitements of travel or the grandeur Of
| the Old World could make me forget
home. So, one day, when was in Liver
pool, i learned that a ship would sail the
next day for New York. did not stop to
| take second thought but went directly
| to my hotel, paid my bill, packed my lug
gage, and that night | slept on board the
good ship Petrel and here | am"
Nearly ten years ago Harry Morton, a
| boy of eighteen had been sent away from
| home to finish his education at college.
| Immediately after graduating he took up
| the study of law in a distant city, and.
studying with determination and energy,
| was admitted to the bar in about half the
| usual time Before commencingthe prac-
| tice of his profession he decided to spend
year or two in travel. He had made a
hasty tour of Europe, and had returned to
his native city to begin his life-work. His
| parents were both dead and all the legacy
| that they left him was their example for
honor and integrity.
All this time we are almost forgetting
Aunt Jemima, with whom, to Bessie's AS
| constituent, Mrs. Olmstead is conversing
| in a moderate tone, without the aid Of the
ear-trumpet But every day must have an
end, and after spending two or three hours
| in social converse, and partaking Of an ex-
cellent dinner, the visitors make their
| adieu and take their departure. Harry
Morton inwardly chated at the lame ankle
| that would not permit him to escort them
| home. That night, in her dreams, Bessie
saw pair of blue eyes smiling into hers,
| and the rich tones of manly voice seemed
| ringing in her ears all the while. All,
Bessiel Bessie! to-day has been an event
full day in your life, little as you realize it
now.
The next day Aunt Jemima started home,
| to the delight of Maud, who had been so
| badly mortified at her countritied manners (;
| and the real sorrow of Bessie, who had be-
come warmly attached to her. 1t was, to
say the least, surprising how rapidly Mr..
| Morton's ankle recovered, and how often
he found opportunities to call at MIR. Gold
wins. But what is the use in telling
about it, for it is just the "old, old story. :"
And so the winter passed away, and the
iingling of sleigh bells gave place TO the
song of the robin and the cooling Of the
dove, those harbingers of spring. And
out in the country the violets were open
| ing their blue eyes almost in time
to bid farewell to the wreaths of
snow on the north side of the hills. And
all this time the little blind god had been
busy, and his darts flew thick and fast.
| But Harry Morton did not spend all his
| time in gayeties; he had taken an Office,
and "shjngle'' bearing the inscription,
"H. Morton, Attorney at Law" was hung
over the door. But clients were slow in
coming and our young lawyer sometimes
| felt almost discouraged, for visions Of a
home of his own, with sweet Bessie Gold
| win for its mistress, had been floating
| through his brain for the past six months,
and only his poverty prevented the realiza-
ton of his vision. Proud and indepcnd.
ent in his disposition, lac would not bring
q wife TO share his poverty but would
work and wait if only the work
would come; but this waiting for work to
do was sorely trying TO his patience. One
day about this time Mr.. Goodwin came in
with an open letter in Mis- hand, and, pass.
ing hastily to the room where his wife and
daughters were seated, said:
Here il letter from Mr.. David Hop
kins, OF Elwood, the home OF Aunt Je-
NINA. The poor old lady is no more,
and Mr.. Hopkins, as her executor, writes
to say that she chose Bessie for her heir
ess. 1t seems by her industry and rigid
economy that she has acquired snug lit
tie fortune, which, on one condition, she
bestows upon Bessie. The condition is
that within three months from her death
Bessie becomes the wife of Harry Nor
ton"
Poor Bessie looked as If she scarcely
| l,na,u xrhatbor IN 1auph or cry She felt