Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1877-05-23

With these words, [ drew the precious
little treasure from it's hiding-place, and
put it in her hand.
Yes, this is MabePs delicate writing
She knew, it was best that she should
leave. She is now quite we'll, and SEEM
ingly contented. [ hear from her regu-
larly; she has never once mentioned the
meeting between two"
81 shall not ask where she is; but T
pray you, guard my darling tenderly
God pity and help me-my life is now
blank"
After some further conversation. T
babe Esther Ingraham goodbye, leaving
my address with her.
Days glided into weeks, weeks took
upon themselves the form of months
added themselves to the great addition
table of time, until three long, sad and
weary years, stood out dark and grim
upon the tablets of Father Time. I wan
dered-knowing not, caring not, where
my journeying might lead me. Ny bus
mess as an engineer and architect suffered
during my absence; but what cared I
for that? L had private resources of my
own. Nervous, wretched, expectant-I
was awaiting what? For the voice of nv
Mabel, my delicate rose, to address me
once. At last the summons came-only
these words:
"Come to Flower Dale immediatezy.
ESTHER"
Again it was June, that queen month
of the year, Again was the air redolent
with the delicate aroma of a thousand
flowers; again did the arrowy lines of
golden sunshine mark hill and dell, and
rest with lingering touches upon the
many beauties of Flower Dell, as with
trembling hand I touched the bell
Scarcely had the faint echo died through
the hall when Cousin Hettie-Wearing a
look of sadness about the dark eyes and a
suspicious trembling about the usually
firm mouth-appeared at the door, and
taking my hand in hers, whispered gently,
"ComeW
Up the broad staircase she led me, and,
reaching the door to the right. she
opened it, and, in a few trembling words,
babe me enter.
"Be firm!" she whispered as she left
me.
III large easy-chair near the window,
where the fragrant June breeze found it's
way in gentle breath and the golden
siftings of a June sunset, glinted the
bright pillows of hair, with snowy fingers
clapsing cluster of pink sweet-brier,
and brown eyes gazing eagerly towards
the door, sat my Mabel-more beautiful
than any dream Of the imagination.
With noiseless steps / reached the chair,
and knelt at her feet. Two white arms
were folded about my neck, and
her beautiful head fell upon
my shoulder. No word was spoken
What need for words-weak, expression
less ayords? Ow hearts were speaking to
each other. Half an hour passed thus.
Then, far off, gentle and fute-like, came
the words, "In heaven, darling, where
there is neither marrying nor giving in
marriagep' And her lips sought mine.
Yes, my Mabel, in heaven!" And
our lips scaled the pledge with our first
and last kiss; for the beautiful casket
was tenantless. The soul had fled to
heaven!
In secluded spot in the churchyard
of Roseberry is a small enclosure-a
delicate iron trelis-work, with clinging
sweet-brier. A marble cross, pure, spot
less, bearing the simple inscription,
"MABEL," stands within. When day is
marrying itself unto the night, [ enter
the grounds, and, gathering delicate
sprays of her loved flower, weave them
into a garland, and place it upon the
cross. "No cross without a crownp'
And my MabePs is respondent with the
amaranthine flowers of eternity; while [,
in the silent twilight hour, with her dear
eyes of beautiful brown keeping watch
upon me through the heavenly gates
ajar, weave this simple token of my love
from her favorite flowers weet- brier."