The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1876-06-22

had gone TO. rest. with the sun who's
downward course he watched" I" 80 yea
i1 7'iie minister came and preached TIN
customary sermon, ranking the deaf
man with IN
'SMen whose lives g4ide 81, fke That wate
the woodlands
Darkened by shadows of earth, but rejecting an
me modest cortege moved away, snt
George Phipps was laid to rest in sol
itary beneath the murmuring
pines ON feighboring hillside. This
was done at his request, made to the
old preacher, whom he also made ac.
quainted with his story when he felt
that the end was near. Not being a
relative, | did not follow the remains to
tths zEaKe, and as LsprepaTed- to leave
the house I met q sweet, d-faced ywo-
man whom Ehad noticed approach and
gaze long and tenderly upon the form
of my departed friend, and then retire
to a remote corner of the. room weep
ing painfully. Some one said she was
stranger, others that she was a wo-
man living in the village, ard still 9TH
ers said that she was relative.
But she was not the latter, else
she would have been provided with a
carriage. We left the house together,
and as we walked down the neat gravel
path, said: . h - - d - =
"This is pretty village. Do you
live here?'' --EssVif -ae-lrl3sfi
"No, SIR" she replied. 81 live
many, many miles from here. ~ Mr..
Phipps was an old friend of mine, and
nay husband insisted that should come
to his funeral. '' lrf sRst Il
You live in Iowa, perhaps said l
gently. Our eyes met for moment,
and we understood each other.
-'E You are married, L believe, hap
PLY so, / trust," ventured, after a mo
ment. .rsr .EEF.-siE Eftr
"My husband is very kind" she re-
piled. 81 am quite content, thank you.
We have two children. y --. 20. -
81 suppose you know the whole
story" | added, after pause, "the
stolen letter, his suffering and his unal-
tered love-" -
"Yes, sir, know it all now," she
said, weeping. The good parson
who preached the funeral sermon to-
day, wrote me the sad story few weeks
ago.. 1t was he, too, who autographed
Georges, death, and influenced his
parents to defer the funeral until now
| arrived only at noon to-day. OH
SIR" she continued, eI try to think it
is all for the best pray to heaven 10
help me TO be true and good to my kind
and a1ecti0nate husband, and to make
me worthy of my pure and guileless lit
tie ones, but l sometimes fear that l
have only a shattered heart left to love
them with.n r-t r.# ... -|
We shook hands and separated, ,prob-
ably forever. | went back to my key,
she back to Iowa, her husband and lit
tie ones, and her great sorrow. And
that ends the story unless | add an odd
fancy or two of my own. -
Sometimes when the house is hushed,
and midnight draws near, l sit and
smoke and dream. Watching the
clouds as they curl upward from my
cigar or peering through the smoke
rings blow forth, see hopes and joys
| have not met, which, rs they vanish
in the haze, leave my cneeks wet And
as sit and muse anon, my mind fits
back to a quiet rustic village, and Iheal
the winds softly signing through the
pines above solitary grave on hill
side. Looking west, I see a sweet, sad
faced matron sitting beneath cottage
portico, and happy gleeful children are
about her. Then | listen to the pines
again and I fancy | hear them whis-
per-. s--- s-r- ---- .y--- -
a -" Pretty and pale and tired II ~sult
She sits in her stif.back chair
While the blazing summer sun Fr-
80 Shines on her soft brown hair, r.
And as | turn once more, see her
yet again-waiting, waiting, waiting
JouTRaI Of the Telegraph. iI7.it e.