The Hartford herald. [volume] (Hartford, Ky.) 1875-1926, 1876-03-29


Alas poor young wife, not for her
husband : She felt n0duubt about his
fate From the moment that she had
heard her fathers words, a deadly GER
tainty that she should see him no more
alive, took possession of her. They
had parted in anger fer the first time.
and she felt sure that, by one OF those
strange fatalities, they would never
meet again.
The sun shOne brightly rs ever, a
bird sang gaily in mighbormg tree,
and her kitten was Ilaying happily
with floating featheE But life was
over for her. Edmund was dead,-
those kind dark eyes closed forever
that loving heart cold and still! The
clock-a wedding present from her IA
ther-ticked gaily on, and chimed the
quarters three times unheeded by her,
before the garden gate creaked, and
her father, with slow, reluctant step,
passed up the gravel path. She stood
still, merely turning her pale face and
dreamy eyes on him as he entered the
room. The tears stood in his ewes as
he put his arms gently round her, and
the hand that took her cold one, trem-
bled violently.
agnes, my poor child" he said in
broken tones, 81 can give you no hope.
The bodies are not all recovered vet,
but he is not among the wounded or
safe, and he was seen to enter the train
some minutes before it started. Hea-
ven help you, my child 1t is fear
full, fearful blow 7"
Agnes spoke nOt-a shudder ran
through her whole frame, and she
raised her head and shook it, rs if try
ing to shake off some bewildering
weight. Her eyes were dry, though
the tears fell fast from her fathers,
and she turned her gaze once more on
the gate, as if expecting somebody
else to come. Alas poor young wife!
was she looking for that dreadful pros
cesSiOn that was to cOme-the shutter,
with its CHASTITY burden, 50 stiff and
still beneath sheet or cloak, that hid it
from tho public -zasO2 ------------a
1t was long before her father could
get her to quit her dreadful post of si>
lent watching. but when she at length
threw herself on the sofa with wild
cries of agony, it was still more terri
bic to see that white, despairing face,
as she raised it, tear stained and con-
vulsed, to her fathers saying, through
the choaking sObs:
"And we parted in angerI"
Oh, careless words, so lightly spo-
ken! what agonizing fruit were they
bearing now! Poor Agnes! they
could not induce her to go to bed
through that long, weary night.
ooh, no, no !" she sobbed, Il must
still stay up till-oh, Edmund, Ed
mund" and the shuddering pause
spoke more plainly than words could
speak.
But few such nights could come to
any woman, and, thank God. in His
mercy, such agony can last but one
night in lifetime. The arrow may
remain in the wounded heart year after
year, but the fearful thrill of its en-
trance can come but once.
The dull, gray light broke at last.
The rising sun tinged the soft gray
clouds with rose and amber; the little
birds twlttered gaily, blithely once
more among the dew.spangled trees,
and life proceeded on in its accustomed
way, taking no heed of that weary,
widowed young heart-that future
robbed of every hope!
Agnes threw up the window, that
the fresh morning breeze might cool
her aching, burning brow, and leant
out to gaze with heavy, swollen eyes
on the lovely scene before her, though
all unconscious of its loveliness. Her
father, worn out with sitting up hour
after hour, in vain endeavors to soothe
her wild agony of grief, lay sleeping
heavily on the sofa, his wrinkled face
looking more wrinkled, and his gray
hair grayer in the clear light of the
early morning. ... ...
Oppressed by the dull stupor that fol-
lows excessive weeping, Agnes stood
leaning against the window, listening
to the whistle of the passing laborer,
or the clang-clang of the gardeners
sharpening scythe, as he moved the
lawn, unconscious that the master
was a mangled corpse, and his mis-
tre>s Il widow, for he had left his work
before the sad report had reached his
servants ears.