The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1877-04-26
ne in deep illness. He was shabby

one in deep illness. He was shabby.
too.
"He has come to beg" thought the
manager; and his, "What can I do for
you?" was curt.
But Jonas cared nothing for any ones
manner now. He answered, sadly,
1 want to buy a shawl"
ga salesman will attend to you, sir, p"
said the manager.
No." said Jonas +" am too I'LL, too
broken to talk to the salesman. [ can
trust you. L want the costliest shawl
you have
GA mailman p thought the manager.
"Our costliest is $5,0OG," said he, re-
pressing q smile.
Have it put up for me, said Jonas
"Certainly mad !'' said the gentleman
to himself.
But Jonas had drawn a check from his
breast, and with trembling hand was
filling UP the blanks.
The manager examined them care
fully.
"Mr. Jonas Pray" he said, more re-
spectfully Then it flashed upon him
that he had read of fatal accident to
this mans wife that morning. It was a
strange proceeding altogether. Secret
ly be called others to look at his Gus
toner. One knew him--fnancially it
was all right.
"And the rest is none of our business, :"
said the manager, as he saw the bundle
of splendor carried down stairs after
Jonas Pray. "They spoke of him as a
miser in the paper That's pretty pur-
chase for miser"
Meanwhile, Jonas drove home. From
the door foated long streamers of black
Grape No sweet face smiled greeting
Within all was hushed. Carrying the
shawl under his arm, he went up stairs
to the darkened room, where, Under
straight folds of white drapery, seemed
to lay the sorrow of the house. A watcher
sat there. He sent her away. Then,
alone in the room, he knelt down upon
the floor beside the coffin.
"Sara," he said-ss Sara, can you hear
me ?-I loved you, Sara; but was such
a miser-such miser I've bought you
a shawl at last. Oh, Sara Sara I've
paid as much as I could for it, my dear
You shall be wrapped in it in your coffin,
but at that instant voice cried:
"Oh, Jonas Jonas, dear Oh, my
poor Jonas My poor, poor Jonasr'
And turning, he saw his wife, either in
the spirit OF the flesh, standing behind
him. His knees trembled under him.
He cried out to Heaven to protect him
but the figure came closer. It was no
ghost, but living woman. She took him
in her arms.
ooh, how i'll you look" she said.
"Did you really love me so? And it is
ali my fault I went to my sister-in-
laws, and there in a pet-oh I was so
angry, Jonas-I gave away my dress,
my shawl and my bonnet to a beggar
woman-and vowed to sit in one of Sis
ter's dressing gowns until you gave me
decent clothes to come home in. And
the poor woman-who was tipsy, too, my
dear-was killed two hours afterward,
and I never knew that she had been taken
for me until this morning. Oh such a
dirty creature, my dear, the papers de-
scribed her And for a little I was glad
that you had had fright, but I'm sorry
now I was."
For all answer he picked up the costly
shawl and wrapped it about her, and
took her, folded in it like mummy, to
his heart again.
"The miser is dead" he said. "But
Jonas Pray will show his wife how he can
cherish her."
He did and if ever afterward Sara
detected symptoms of relapse all she
had to do was to wrap herself i'll her
wonderful shawl. The sight of it inev-
itably recalled the moment when he
learned how little after all is the value of
money, and realized in agony of soul
that "should man give all the sub
stance of his house for love it would
be utterly contemned." He may, in
deed, love his money yet; but he knows
that he loves Sara more.