The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1877-01-20
small, but every portion was full of
tender association to him.


other was the cottage furniture he had
sent all the way to "York" to get to
please his bride. The parlor carpet
and substantial horse hair set had come
at tie same time, filling bin with pard-
enable pride at the preparations for his
marriage.
These white curtain Dora had made
In her first week of home life as his
wife.
These autumn leaves they had gather
ed in their lover strOlls, and Dora had
made them into wreaths and punches to
bring with her to adorn the walls of
her new home. He was but simple
farmer, not yet twenty five, with but a
meager education, and not given to
dreams or castle-building.
Thoroughly content to live as his
father and grandfather hadlived before
him, he could not comprehend the Wis.,
ions filling Dora's imagination.
He half hoped get that she would
urge him to give up his intention and
remain at home, and yet he knew that
her content with the humble happiness
he could give her, was gone.
But Dora, though frightened twenty
times a day at the success other taunts,
would not speak the words he hoped to
| hear.
Very rapidly the preparations were
made to depart, for the Others we've
nearly ready, and the little nest egg at
| the bank was all gone before John Ray
nor was fully equipped as miner.
The first realization of what she was
| giving up for a cream, came to Dora
when she stood upon the platform of
the rustic railway station, with Tom up
on one side and John on the other, the
former full of eXultion, with merry
smile and bright eyes, the latter grave
and stern, with lowering brow and set
lips.
"John |" the little wife whispered,
eff you do not wish to co.
1T Is too late Tor thatl' he said, harsh
ly, and then hearing the approaching
train, his face softencd, and he caught
her In his arms.
"God keep you, little wife," he said
hoarsely, 81 go for love of you'll l may
come back rich and make you happy.
No man will work harder for gold than
will, to bring it to you'll"
follow the others into the car, and then
Joined the gIoups Of weeping women
who had come upon the same sOrrOwful
errand as her own.
Letters came but rarely. Johns
hard hands could guide plow far more
easily than they could weld pen, and
when he wrote his epistles were brief,
though loving, AS the expedition went
further and further from the boarders
of civilization, the communications be-
came less frequent.
But from the hour when the train
carried John out Of sight, Dora's punish.
ment began. The cozy home his love
had fitted up for her was haunting re-
| proach, and the excitement OF Toms
visits over, memory began to recall all
Johns love aud the change that had
come upon him after he decided to join
the gold seekers.
1t was no comfort to cross the lots
| and go home to her old home, for there
Mr.. and Mrs. Haven bewaileI Toms
absence, and gave Dora round seedlings
for encouraging him in his crazy ex-
petition.
Like as not we'll never see either
of them again, or know how they died."
Mrs. Haven would moan, rocking her
self to and fro, "a good son Tom was,
till he got the gold fever.
"And a better husband than John
never lived" Mr.. Haven would say,
"and you gave him no peace or rest till
you drove him OIL"
And goug back to her desolate
house, Dora could gather no comfort in
the old dreams. Mamie, her only ser
want, would bring her knitting to the
sitting room, and drive her mistress
halt frantic by her sincere lamentations
for the master.
Night after night, kneeling to pray
for Johns safe return, Dora felt the
agony of self-reproach grow keener and
keener.
For it had come to this very soon,
that the longing for wealth, the hope
of being great lady, all faded away,
and the desOlate wife's only prayer was
for her husbands return.
A whole year PASSED away, and the
miners had not returned. A wee SNOW
drop of a baby came to lie for one brief
( week upon DoTa's breast, and then
| leave her. Occasionally the newspa-
pers that came irregularly to the village,
told of disaster and death in the gold
regions. but never were the names of
the party from Topham in the list, and
Dora hoped against hope.
Winter SHOWS were lying over the
farms, and fifteen months had dragged
out their weary length since John Ray
nor had left his home. A pale, wasted
shadow of Dora moved listlessly about
the farm house, and Mamie mutteTed
! often :
"She'n not be long after her hus
| band and child"
Grief and remorse were doing a fatal
work With pretty Dora, when Ons even
ing as dusk was settling into night
| shadows, there came a startling knock
at the door OF the farm house. Dora
started to- her feet, but sank back, half
fainting, into her chair, saying, with
white, trembling lips
"Quick, Mamie, 60 quick | 1t may
be John"
A tall brown bearded man stood
upon the porch, who passed the old
servant, and entered the room where
Dora, with white cheeks, and startled
ey yes, looked at him, then beyond him.