Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1876-05-24
MIFFLNTOWN. PENNA.
"Ho! Lucy" he cried out; ''he might

"HO! Lucy" he cried out; she might
have fallen over the crags yOnder."
"Heaven forbid 70 CALCULATED Lucy.
But a strange stiffness came over her
as she reached thick coppice of hazel
bushes that divided the meadows from
a ravine, whose steep sides were set
with jagged rocks and clumps of ferns.
The path terminated abruptly on the
edge of this coppice, and another COM
menced, a narrow, dangerous path,
winding along the crags, where q mis-
step was certain death.
When Lucy reached the edge of the
ravine, a cloud of foam-like, golden
hued vapOr was slowly curling up from
its dark depths-and oh, horror! on a
little shelf Of rocks, not ten feet from
where she stood, lay John Appleton,
his white, rigid face upturned to the
blue April sky.
"John!" Lucy cried, standing On the
edge of the crags, with clasped hands
"JOhn, speak to me"
But John neither SPOKE nor moved.
The voice that had never spoken un-
kindly to her was silent forever. The
heart she had grieved would never
thrOb in joy or sorrow again.
''Dead!" she shrieked out, in an
agony of grief and terror.
The aged father heard the words, and
tottered on his staff, but no murmur
against the justice Of this blow inflicted
by His Divine hand escaped his lips as
his eyes fell on the dead face of his son.
Lucy's cries had brought Mr.. Gordon s
farm hands to the spot, and very ten
dsrly they raised the dead body and
bore it homeward. They found sharp
wound on the temple, where a jagged
point of rock had pierced his brain.
How he happened to fall no one ever
knew, but Lucy, sitting in her darkened
chamber, weeping bitter, bitter tears,
felt that she had driven him to his
death, and that through the blindness
Of grief he had fallen over the crags.
For months Lucy Gordon lowered be-
tween life and death. Some said it was
the shock, others that she had loved
John, but no one but her mother knew
that the memory Of her last interview
was killing her. She came to reason,
with death pictured on every lineament
of her white face.
"Carry me down to the little porch"
she said one April evening, year after.
And they carried her down, where
she met Gerald Lambert, his almost
bOyish face truly sorrowful.
'Lucy," he said, when they were left
alone, "yOu will get we'll"
'No." Lucy shook her head sadly,
then pointed to the glowing west, where
the sun shone like molten gold. "Do
you see yOn beautiful scene, Gerald
the west all barred with amethyst and
gold-the blue sky above us, fiecked
with pinks?"
eyes," breathed Gerald, gazing at
the awestruck, spiritual face.
"Well, John and l watched the sun
go down one year ago. l was young
and foolish. Irefused his love for your
bOyish admiration. And the sun arose,
and its rays kissed his dead face, even
as tomorrow morning they will kiss
NINE"
She laid her head back exhausted,
while Gerald stroked her thin hands.
''Lucy, are you afraid to die? ?"
She smiled family.
81 drove him to his death unprepared,
l go purified by suffering"
They carried her back to her couch,
and Gerald watched at her bedside until
the breath left her body. They had
been friends, needless, thoughtless
friends, and he sincerely mOurned her.
''Bury me beside John" had been her
dying words; and the two who should
have walked hand in hand through life,
now rest side bv side in death.