Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1876-11-25

help John keep his promise. God
would spare her for that. How long
would it be until morning2 How could
she bear the pain so long7 Oh, it
would be terrible if John should come
and find her lying there, cold and stiff.
John did love her, oh so well. He
had loved her so long. It seemed so
many years since he first told her that
he loved her it was on the mountain
side, in dear old Tennessee. How far
away it seemed. How the sun shone
and the birds sung. How dreamy and
l'bewildered her thoughts were. How
still the baby was. Yes, she could feel
his heart beat. She no longer felt the
pelting of the storm had it ceased9
Her thought was answered by a rush
of wind from O new direction. She felt
the great weight lifting off from her.
She was free. Then-something struck
her.
=
The train went snorting into Winthrop
Just at daylight. John jumped off, and
was the first to reach the ferry. He
had never seen Atchison SO quiet. With
the exception of those who had crossed
on the ferry, and few early risers who
were hurrying up the street, the town
seemed asleep ). but as he passed up the
street he saw man who was riding a
mule coming down in great haste, who
cried out "How dye, John9"
"Why, Jakel" he replied, "is that
you9 I allowed you was half way to
Denver afore now."
"We started yesterday, but we had
powerful storm on the prairie out
here last night. We chanced to be
right near to house and they let us in /;
but it sent our old wagons rolling over
and over across the prairie, and our oxen
all stampeded; I'm on the hunt of them
now."
cit don't look like it had reached
Atchison."
"No; l reckon it just took streak. I"
John hurried on down the river. The
road ran so near the bank that the steady
swash of the water seemed under his
feet. The birds were singing in the
trees, and the sunshine came creeping
down the bluffs overhead. How eager
he was to get home that morning. His
heart was full of new plans and new
purposes. He could keep his promise,
and he would; he would never make
Nancy's heart ache again by breaking
that promise. He stopped suddenly
had the storm reached Summers The
toll buildings along the wharf were
leaning roofess, one this way, another
that, as if the wind, coming over the
bluffs, had reached just low enough to
unroof them. He hsstened around the
foot Of the hill; there lay the brick
hotel, the boast of the town, in scatter
ed fragments on the ground, like q
wasps' nest scattered by the house
keepers broom. He looked around;
three-fourths of the town lay in ruins.
How was it with his honle2 He ran up
the street until he could see where it
stood. Gonel Not q vestige of it left.
And his family2 Perhaps they had es-
capped before the storm; perhaps
Scarce knowing what he did, he hurried
to the nearest house that was yet stand
ing, and without ceremony opened the
door. There was no one in the room,
but on couch in one corner white
sheet "sunk to the still proportions" of
two silent forms. Moved by some
strange impulse. he turned back the
covering that shrouded the faces
Nancy and the baby
Shocked, stunned, he sunk on his
knees and laid his face on that dear
form. Who can describe, who can COM
prehend, the utter desolation of thot
hourP None but those who have felt
it. Oh, the thoughts and memories
that crowded upon him-many of them
bitter, regretful thoughts. But there
was one memoryf for which he was thank
full; that he had not listened to the
tempter which whispered to him yester-
morn, that it would be weak and un-
manly to yield to her request.
They found him there an hour after
ward, but he asked no questions, made
no reply to their attempts at consolation,
and they left him alone with his dead.