The Hickman courier. [volume] (Hickman, Ky.) 1859-current, 1877-01-19
LOIS BRANDS CHOICE.

Lois Brand stopped on the bridge anC
leaned over the low railing, watching tn,
ripples on the water and the little min
nows darting about in that restles,
fashion of theirs, which made her think
of the shuttles flying through the warp
in the weaving room at the factory.
As she stood there on the old bridge
thinking in an idle, spiritless kind OF
way of what a pleasant thing life must
be when there is no such drudgery, no
such terrible monotony in it as had
wrapped hers in from childhood, shutting
out everything she had hoped for most,
like wall, a step upon the creaking
planks aroused her.
She turned and saw that her compan-
ion was Richard Evans.
To him she was the one woman in the
world.
"Good morning, Dick" she said, in
tired kind of way. care you going to
the mill? What fool am to ask you.
though. 1 might know that there's no
other place for such people as we are to
go to. When we get into the mills once,
We never get out. It's for life or death,
1 don't know which. I don't think
should care much, If Il wasn't for Fan
n.y."
''I don't like to hear you talk in that
way, Lois, he said, in that grave, gentle
way of his. "There's no need of YOU
killing yourself at the loom, as you're
doing. It's only for YOU TO say Yes
Lois, and you know there's nothing I'd
be more glad to hear
"I know" she answered, little more
tenderly, but with much bitterness in
her voice yet, q am sure l could be
happy, quite happy with you, but there's
Fanny. 1t wouldn't be right for me to
marry, and bring you such load as two
women, and one of them as helpless as a
baby would be. 1 could help myself
and you, but with me you'd find your
hands full when you come to think of
poor Fanny, and you nothing but your
two hands. l can't say Yes Dick,
thinking of that. It wouldn't be right
for me to-"
Didn't l know all about Fanny when
1 asked you to marry me?' Dick said,
earnestly. eff 1 hadn't been willing to
work for both of you, do you s'pose I'd
have asked you any such question? You
know better, Lois I understand the
case, Lois, and am willing to run the
risk of the consequences. Poor Fanny
wouldn't be half the burden to me, if you
were to marry me, that she is to
you. Besides, a man can work so much
easier if he thinks he is working for some
oneswho loves him-if he has a home of
his own. Don't you know that, Lois?
1t puts life and energy into him. III
knew that you were waiting for me, after
the days work was done, in a home of
oul own, the hardest job would be
pleasant one. The thought of the kiss
you'd give me when l got home would
help me more than the promise of better
place or extra wages. You'd better say
Yes Lois"
"There's the bell," she said drawing
a long sigh, as she turned. " 1 don't
think I'd better say Yes Dick. 1t
wouldn't be right"
"Think it all over before you decide"
he said, walking along with her through
the street leading up to the factory.
"Don't let the thought of Fanny or the
hard work I'd have to do, keep you
from saying Yes If you love me. Lois
1t was toward noon when her en-
ployer, Ralph Leyerson, came up to her
loom.
"Lois, 1 want to talk to you," young
Leversan said, by-and-bye. 81 suppose
you never thought of such thing as
my caring for you, butt do, Lois. I've
watched your face for long time, and
Fve grown fond of it. It's face that
tells how much your life lacks to make
it pleasant. Let me bring the lacking
pleasure, Lois. VIII you be my wife ?''
A confused vision of pictures and
flowers, of rich dresses and books, and
the sound of music went whirling and
surging through her brain to the accom-
paniment of the grinding, pitilcss
wheels,
81 can't think now" she cried, put
ting up both her hands to her throbbing
brow. "DoR't ask me to answer you
now some other time I'll tell you"
" You are killing yourself here" he
said, tenderly. Ky to think favorably,
Lois"
She put on her bonnek and shawl and
went out into the cool am Oh, which
to choose (which to choose The
words made little verse of themselves,
and set themselves TO the monOtonous
hum of turning spindles and the slick
claeking of darting shuttles. She went
toward home in slow, roundabout wayA,
Suddenly the factory bell smote the
air, there was cry of fire, and all at
once great black cloud of smoke broke
from the upper windows of the building.
She turned about and went back.
A great cry rung out from the crowd.
At the windsw of his Office, up stairs,
was Leverson's frightened face. He must
have been asleep, and undreaming of the
awful danger SO near by.