Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1876-06-30
NO. 154.

on with giant band; sharp needle'points
OF snow smote her neck. at will be
rather sharp going home," she said shiv.
erlng and pulling her shawl closer.
In October she had come to the woods
tor autumn leaves, and the spot was, in a
degree, familiar to her. But the path
seemed to disperse and lose itself after
entering the thicker parts; and she had
to direct her way by the piles of wood that
had been cut in places where the trees
could be most conveniently felled. If
they had not said those dreadful words to
each other if they only were as they had
been yesterday when Roland loved her
she might not have felt so desperately
anxious. How was she to find him She
called again and again, but the wind over
powered her voice.
There was no sound of the axe. As
she paused, listening intently, she could
hear nothing but the dreary whistle of the
blast through the naked trees, and the
sharp, sitting sound of the snow as it
smote their trunks.
'David where is Roland ?-where Is
your master?-go and find him this min
ute te!'-impaticntly menacing the COVER
ing dog in his terror. Find your mas
ter, there's good dog" she added. in
coaxing tone of entreaty, patting the
poor animal, who stood before her with
dropping head.
Good David, good old dog"
David went on then. In the lowest
natures is sometimes enshrined the pearl
Of delicate feeling. This dog had bad
news to tell, and shrank from telling it.
He made no pretense to light-hearted
pace. He crept, halted and seemed anx-
ious to defer something.
Leading the way over freshly felled
log, then another, and turning thicket
of young oaks. that caught at Jenny's
dress as if they would fain hold her back
from painful sight, he came to halt.
There was no reason why he should go
further.
A tree had fallen in an unlocked for di-
rection; or, perhaps. Roland Hardy had
been little reckless. 1t had swept him
to the ground, and was lying across his
legs, as immovable. to him, as a noun
tain. On the rough bark, where he had
been able to reach it with his knife, was
cut, Dear Jen-," showing that he
had not intended to call her 'Jane" on
this occasion. But the fond work, which
perhaps was intended as last momento,
had ceased. His arms were lying at his
sides now. and fleet OF blood stained his
blue lips; Jenny thought it was the life
crushed out of him, but it only came OF
his long, vain struggles to free himself.
She did not scream, it was not her way.
She rushed forward to fling herself against
the fallen tree; pushing it, beating it,
bruising her shoulders against it like some
mad woman. This was her first impulse
and it availed nothing. Then she sank
down at her husbands side, wiped the
red drops from his mouth and covered his
face with kisses that might have kissed
the dead into life The kisses made Ro-
land family stir, and he moved his hand
instinctively toward the knife, which had
fallen in the snow. He was wanting to
finish his message.
"Roland! Roland p she cried in an an
guished voice, seizing his benumbed
hands in hers, and pressing them to her
face and to her warm, throbbing throat.
"Oh, if he could only speak to me once
more" she piteously moaned. "Only
once more -
"Is it--Jenny!" came struggling faint
ly from his lips.
here to die with you. my own blessed
hNHb' Cu, Cdi w IdiSlUE Ills
head tenderly to her breast. "Oh my
husband, look at me-speak to me Are
you terribly hurt ?'
But though he opened his eyes and
looked at her, he could not answer.
Then she remembered the wine; and,
filing the tiny cup at the bottom of the
flask she held it to his mouth. Roland
drank the wine with difficulty; partly be-
bn opIx hal
partly because Jenny, in her wild solici-
tude, seemed bent upon pitching the
whole down his throat without waiting
for the little formality of swallowing.
She continued to rain the tenderest ex-
began stealing something that, under the
depressing circumstances, looked like
pleased surprise. The eyes opened wild
er with look of recognition, and heav-
EN- love shone up into Jenny's terror
stricken face. He laborously flung his
arm about her neck, and murmured her
name iagain. as if he would express the
tenderness of his whole soul.
Are YOU crushed to death, dear Ro-
land?" illogically cried Jenny.
mot quite. But l am so tired.n |
have been buried under this horrible log
lucSc lOut utulS
Thank God you are not killed!" she
asprated. Tell me what | can do"
Poor, child, you can do nothing. fla
man were here with a handspike--"
His voice ceased; ceased in very hope.
lessness. The nearest man was probably
two miles off. And before the could be
found and brought even if Jenny could
find him, life might have gone out.
81 will do it, said Jenny. Tell me
where can find a handspike."
"You could not do it, child"
''But will, she returned, cheerily. IL
studied natural philosophy at school. and |
have plenty of muscle. Did not some
body say he could move the world if, if he
only had the things to do it with; lever
and that. can cut down something for
lever. Roland"
She was speaking in sheer desperation.
But desperate woman can put out an in
credible amount OF strength; and the
stake at issue was her husbands life. Ro-
land saw how full of energy she looked;
what an amount of determination her
whole a t'tude betrayed. 1t impaired some
degree OF hope even to him and ho ,o;n,