Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-01-08

EeacHltlE edstWhTus IlS eat tnNtN, ""A
his face in his hands. and his golden ore
falling unnoticed in glittering mass a,
his feet, till the loud sound OF excited
voices reached his ears, coming from the
cabin. He rose and followed the voices
The rough miners made way Tor nm 70
enter his own door. And there, by tue
half-prepared dinner table. fallen IKE
good soldier at her post. lay Mrs. roster
An honorable soldier, worthy 81 com
mander's stars and straps, in that wlae
band Of household martyrs, who fall un-
knelled and undecorated by admiring ma
tons; but who surely will not be forgot
ten by the great Chief Captain OF the
world. when He makes out his true roll OF
honor.
Dead. So they call her. Dead . So the
sorrow stricken, conscicnce-smitten man.
white to his lips, said. as he bent over her,
calling her by the old, loving names, That
surely, if her spirit were still outside the
heavenly gate, would waken her to bliss,
full consciousness. Dead. And he could
never tell her his remorse-never. never
beg upon his knees for his forgiveness.
But Mrs. Foster was not dead. Slowly
did she come out of the terrible faintlng
fiji. that was like the twin sister OF death
come back out of the shadow OF the Nal-
ley. Awoke to stupor and delrum that
left her mercifuly unconscious OF another
grief that fell upon the sorely tried heart
of her husband.
Winnie was gone .
1t was some time before they thought OF
the child, so engrossed were they with the
apparently dead woman 1t was Jake
Wilder who thought of her first. He was
the first man to go, although they rushed
out at once to search for her. Mr.. Foster,
although torn with anxiety about the child
he loved so well, still stayed with his wife
of course A man was dispatched for the
doctor. twenty miles away. The rest all
dispersed In different directions in search
of Winnie.
At nighttall they came in despalring'
went out again in the solemn darkness.
their lanterns cleaning, like falling stars.
through the forest paths, and up the woody
side OF the canon. But it was near midnight
when they came upon the first trace OF
her, a scrap of her white dress torn of by
thorny bush. 1t was on direct path
that led to precipitous bluff, hundreds Of
feet high. beneath which deep. muddy
waters whirled and eddied. Arrived here,
one man, held by another strong hand,
peered over the dizzy verge holding
his lantern so he could look downward.
1t was no use, the man said, drawing back
no human power could reach her. If she
had fatlen down there. Even as the man
said this. q child's cry was borne family
upward from the depths below. They
were brave men, bred to danger, and they
would undoubtedly have faced death with
GOODNESS and bravery, but they trembled
and turned pale before that child.cry.
Again the man who had looked first, held
BY the same strong hand. peered down.
ward over the straight rocky wall. and
there he could just discover. far. far, Tar
down, amidst cluster Of bushes and
stunted trees that grew out OF CLEFT In
the steep wall, faint glimmer Ct white.
In falling over the cliff, midway to death.
these bushes had caught the child, and had
saved her. mo, no human power could
save her." the man said. shuddering as he
looked downward. They only detained
her for moment at deaths door.
At this moment Jake Wilder came up
from his search. in another direction. IL
will save her." he said, cor die with her.
Life, to tell the truth, was not over sweet
to Jake Wilder. A hundred times during
the past year, had despair urged him to
end it, throw IL down as q miserable fail
ure. Now he would give it, give 1t for
the sweet little northern blossom. the one
being in the world whose innocent little
heart trusted him. In vain his rough
mates endeavored to dissuade him from
his suicidal purposes, his vain attempt, tor
no one could save the child. No one,
they declared ii was only throwing his lie
away too.
He knew it would be impossible to reach
the child by going downward-down that
straight, steep, slippery wall. His only
hope lay in reaching her from beneath.
working his way out over the whirling,
mad waters, and then toiling up the steep
precipices, little step here, upward, toll
ing upward, with that little white form for
an inspiration. We read of men whose
to good is the work of many
years; toiling in their upward path toward
good, helped by the inspiration Of purer
soul. who leads them gently upward by
her nobler example. Learning, by the
love and patience of a human soul above
them, yet still bearing for them, some
hing OF the Divine love and patience that
shines downward upon the weakest, lowli-
est toiler. who looks upward through these
earthly mists. seeking the heavenly light.
And we read also Of those whose souls
change is the work of moment, wrought
in some crisis, some great temptation re-
sisted, some wonderful preservation, some
desparing prayer, that God has answered
in the midst Of deadly peril Who shall say
that this rough miners cry was not heard
in Heaven! His irenzied appeal that per
haps he did not call prayer; the wild cry
for Divine help, when his human strength
was failing him? The wild promise that
if God would permit him to save the child,
he would be different man. better man
And so, in the night, and in the darkness.
he worked on, struggling upward. despair
ing, yet fainting not, for love of the little,
fair soul above him. Toiling slowly up
ward, through the solemn shadows, near
to the most solemn mystery of death. up
held by the divine inspiration Of love.
1t was miracle! That was what his
wondering companions called it. as he sat
at the foot OF the preciplce, with Winnie's
little form pressed to his heart, and the
morning light family dawning in the east
The fresh. pure light of another morning
shining upon his uncovered brow. and mis-
earnest eyes bright with a new purpose.