Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1876-08-17

Aud smile in hope-ah, God, who raised
Those breakers wild and white,
And babe the tempest to arise
And rage that livelong night,
And smotc that little quiv'ring bark,
And tore the planks III twain,
Deal gently with the broken heart
Of her who all in vain
Poured ont her soul i'll fervent prayer,7
Her love to see again.
No, not in vain The morning dawned,
The sunshine glittered fair,
And bathed in light q battered corpse,
A CLEAN of golden hair
God only heard the cry Of her
Who found him lying there.
MISS ERISM'S CODlCIL.
Miss Rebecca Erism, yaletudinarian
Of sixty. lay dying at her house in
town. She had held so tenacious Il
grip upon life that it was difficult for
the two young people to realize
the end was so near. These young
people were Gerald Erism, her
nephew, and Miss Luane Williams, ner
companion and nurse.
Gerald had seen the young woman
every day for the three years she had
lived with his aunt, but never until
that moment had bestowed a serious
thought upon her. He did not even
know the color of her eyes. till his
aunt gasped out a sentence that caused
him to look at her attentively. Then
he found them shining UNANIMOUSLY in
the sombre gloom of the sick-chambcr
and something therein forbade him to
hate her, although the sentence his
aunt had uttered was to the effect that
she had ;eft Miss Williams all her
money.
IF you expect to pay for that horse
for Emily Thorpe to ride with the
money YOU get by my death, said the
dying woman, you're mistaken.
II don't understand began Ger.
aid.
1T was an infamous transaction,
said the old lady, land what l call
post.obit. l found out enough about
it to make me put codicil to my will.
That rascally householder lose his
money after all, and Emily Thorpe
shall tlaunt none of her tinery ut my
expense. I've left every penny to
Luane Williams!''
1t was then that Gerald looked ut
Luane but his aunt suddenly stretch
ed out her hands to him pleadingly,
and finding gray pallor spreading
beside and took her cold withered hand
in his own.
eff the horse had been for any one
but that Emily Thorpe =" faltered the
poor old lady.
''Oh, aunt said Gerald, IF you'd
let me explain
II would if l had time" she said
"but l must die now
In ten minutes it was all over, and
Gerald went out Of the house with
great ache ut his heart. He was very
sorry for his aunt /; she had been very
kind to him-too kind for she has rear.
ed him for the useless life Of 4 drone,
when now it appeared he must work
for his living like all the rest of the
bees. 1t had hitherto been something
of 4 bore to him merely to spend
money, and the fact began to dawn
unpleasantly upon his mind that to
earn it must be infinitely more weari-
some.
Walking aimlcssly OH. his feet took
mechanically familiar direction, and
he found himself pausing before fine
house in a fashionable quarter of the
city, from whence shambled 4 some
what bent and awkward figure that
presently disappeared in a brougham
before the door.
Gerald recognized the man as Mr..
Badger, the millionaire, and involun-
III
that of the fortunate soap dealer. lie
was. however, so absorbed with the
direful news he had to tell Emily that
before she came into the parlor he had
forgotten Badgers existence.
1t was singular that her remarkable
beauty and brilliant toilet did not ap-
pail Gerald at that moment, that the
fact of his no longer being able to
grace that lovely hand with BETTING
gems did not prevent him from Selling
it in both his own and kissing it rap.
turOusly. But for that enchanting
moment he was allowed to forget the
gloomy chamber where his aunt lay
dead, and the woman that waited there
for the money he had been taught to
consider his own.
1T seems to me that you are very
beautiful this morning." was all that
he could say.
Emily drew her hand gently away
from his caress.
''Gerald,' she said, Il have some
thing to tell you.'
Her accent was cold. There was
something in her manner that caused
him to step back and look at her with
dim premonition of what was to
come.
"You know" she continued, show
bitterly opposed is your aunt to your
affection for me. She has told me her.
self that she will never consent to our
happiness. Gerald, l am too fond of
you to wreck your whole life. There
was but one way to end it all
She paused. He leaned forward, and
still kept his eyes, now wan and bag.
gard, upon her face. Then she sank
pale and trembling into a chair, and
covered her eyes with her hand. She
was moved with pity, perhaps, or a
vague regret. At last she spoke.
MARRIAGE ,# =.
From Badger cried Gerald, and
walked to the door. ''Your prudence"
he added, standing upon the threshold,
"haS served you we'll. You have Just
got rid of me in time. My aunt died
this morning, and has left everything
she had to her nurse and companion. !"
Then he got out into the street, and
walked along with q faltering, stagger-
ing STEP. His eyes were wild, his face
lividly pale People turned to lcok at
him as he went by, and two or three
wondered what was sending that man
to the devil.
He went home and stood by the body
of isaunt. There was singular fas.
cination about this death something
very wonderful and tempting in that
mysterious and absolute rest. Sudden.
ly he became master of himself, of the
bitterness and despair of the moment.