Helena weekly herald. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1867-1900, 1875-12-09
Helena, Montana, Thursday, December 9, 1875.

was leaving behind me, and l chose my seat
in the car so that could see the great build
ing as we passed it, and perhaps catch
glimpse of her. AS we neared it there seemed
to be a great hustle and confusion-people
running hither and thither, women screaming,
and the clouds of steam and smoke that usu-
ally foated around the building seemed in
creased hundredfold. A curve in the road
brought us full in front of the mills, and in a
moment / saw that the largest of them, the
one where my little Pearlie spent her weary
days, was on fire. Dense clouds of smoke
mingled with tiny tongues of flame were is
suing from the windows, frightened opera
tives were rushing from the burning building,
trampling each other under foot in their mad
haste and the whole scene was one of unut-
stopped. In moment we were all on our way
to the burning mill, among the first. All!
Jack, think what l felt when heard a terror
stricken group of men crying out: where
is Miss Smith She is nowhere to be found!'
She was known to have been in the Office
when the alarm of fire was given, and had
not been seen since. One prayer for safety
from lips all too unaccustOmed to such exer-
else, and was in the midst of the burning
building. Up the stairs rushed like a mad
man, burst through the door Of the Office, and
there, with her hands clasped and her head
lying on the open page of her ledger, lay the
girl | loved. In moment l had my coat off,
wrapped it over head, and, elapsed her as
closely as l could lest those demoniac darting
tongues of flame and falling cinders should
touch her, carried her down the burning,
cracking staircase safe into the fresh air.
What a cheer they gave us, Jack. Then
there was dull, runibling sound, crash,
and myriads of sparks went shooting up like
stars into the smoke-clouded air. One of the
walls had fallen. But | do not remember
anything further until woke up and found
myself in bed, with little blue-eyed nurse
bending over me with tender hands, one of
which l kissed and captured and never lost
sight Of until had decorated it with we'd
ding ring. One day, Jack, when we were
first engaged, asked her why she made no
the cry of Fire. What do you suppose she
told me? That l had gone away, and she
thought it would be easier to die there in the
fire than to live her life without me. Think
of it, Jack just fancy the fair Judith al
lowing herself to be burned to death because
her lover had left her. All, my little wife.
my country daisy! l wish you could have
seen her when brought her home, so fright
ened at my munificence, SO OvcraWcd by the
-visaged Dutchmen looking down from
their pcrches on the drawing room walls. l
was obliged to reassure her by telling her
that if she persisted in being so frightened
should have to dispose of my ancestors as
Charles Surface did. Fancy the first settlers
knocked down at auction, so much per hcad!"
''But the imperial Judith h?'
''rhe fire had burned all recollection Of her
out of my head. The pride of the knicker-
bockers had also disappeared in the flames,
and when learned my little Pearlie's sad
and simple history think ! loved her all the
better for her humble, nameless birth. Her
mother was farmers daughter, who married
a strolling vagabond by the name of Smith.
She afterwards had reason to think the name
was assumed, but she clung to him faithfully
until he was found drowned under the mill
one day; and then she died herself, just after
Pearlie, or Margaret, as they called her, was
born. Judith, friend Jack, still retains her
maiden estate, though she replaced me in two
weeks by French Count. Now, if you are
looking out for wife,
s'Don't, my boy. Are there no more burn
ing mills in New England? Those blue eyes
haunt me. Hark! isn't that a baby's cry:"
''Of course it is; bouncing youngster be-
longing to wife and l"
''Lct's 90 and take look at him."
Arm in arm they 60 up stairs, where little
woman who is not Knickerbocker kneels
in maternal alteration before the cradle of a
young tyrant who is.