Weekly Trinity journal., 1878-12-14

ing about, white rs a corpse, when Hi
ram was away, never looking at the sea
without a shudder like death chill. All
through the war i. was just awful; for
Hiram listed on man o'-war, and
Pearl was just a shadow when he camo
home the last time"
after the war2"
"Yes, sir; but no made no money OF
any account, and so he went again, after
staying home long spell. Well, he
never came back. ,Twasn't no manner
of use telling Pearl he was lest; she'd
just shade her pretty head and say:
Hell come back" Not mite Of
mourning would she wear, even after Il is
own mother gave HIM up and put on
black; for, sir, it stands to reason he's
dead years ago."
"It looks so."
"Of course it does. Nobody else
doubts it, excepting Mrs. Goldby's last
words was: "I'm going to meet Hi
ram" and they say the dying knows.
But even that didn't mako Pearl think
So She wore mourning for her that had
been the only mother she knowed of, but
weeds. Weeds was 10; widows, she said,
and she wasn'ta widow"
"But the stonet"
"Well, sir, m coming to that. A
year ago, a gentleman from France came
here hunting for child lost on this
coast. He'd heard of Pearl by happy
instance, if there is such, and came here.
When lie saw the clothes, he just faint
ed like woman"
"She was related, thenP"
The strangers voice was husky, but
the sea air was growing chilly.
"Her father. sir -
"He took her awayP"
"He tried to- lie told her of splen-
did home in New York for he'd followed
his wife and child, sir, to the city they
had never reached. He was rich very
rich and lonely. lie begged his child to
go, but she would not. Hiram will
come here for me-" she said, "and he
must find me whore he left me-"
On what had she lived"
"Sewing, sir, mostly. Tho cottage
was old Mrs Goldby's, and bless you
Pearl didn't eat moro than bird, and
her dresses cost next to nothing But
there's no denying she was very poor,
very, and yet the grand home and big
fortune never tempted hor. SO her ia-
ther came off and on to see her until April.
An he died, sir, an left our Pearl all
his fortune and the grand house in New
York. But she'll never go, sir, She'll
die here waiting for Hiram, who'll never
come"
The stranger lifted his face, that had
been half hidden in his hand, and said;
There was a shipwr0cll in the Pacific
Ocean, Davy. years and years ago, and
ono man only was saved. Saved, Davy,
by savsges, who made him slave. But
one day tn is sailor saved the lie Of the
chiefs daughter, who was in the coils OF
a huge snake, and the chief released
him. Moro than that, he gave him choice
spices and woods, and sent him abroad on
the first passing ship. SO the sailor land
cd in great city, sold his presents and
put the gold in safe keeping. Thon he
travelled till he reached the seaport town
where he was born, and com ing there
at sunset, he heard tho story of his life
from .he lips of the man cutting his
tombstone"
Nota word spoke Davy. Standing
erect, he seized an immense sledge- ham.
mer, and with powerful blows from
strong, uplfted arms, dashed tho marble
into fragments. Then, painting with ex
ertion, he held out his brawny hand to
tho stranger-stranger no longer.
1--WE done no better work in my life
than I've done in the last five minutes,
Hiram. Go home man, and make Pearls
heart glad"
''She don't need it, Hiram don't
need it. You asked me about the stone.
/
twitting her, now that she was rich she
grudged the stone TO her husbands me-
mory. So she told me to cut it, but says:
"Don't put dead on it, Davy. Put lost
at sea for Hirams lost, but he'll be
found and come back TO NO." Shell
never look at it, Hiram, never. And
there's not an hour, and hasn't been in
ten years, that she's not looking for yeu
to come back. Go TO her, man, and the
Lords blessing bo upon you both"
So, grasping the hard brown hand,
Hiram Goldby took the path to the little
white cottage whore he was born, forty
five years before. The sun had set and
darkness was gathering, but little gleam
of light streamed from tho windows of
his cottage. lie drew near softly, and
standing on the seat in the porch, looking
over the curtain into Il neat, but poor
sittIng-room.
1t was not the grand house, PEARLS
heritage in New York, but Pearl was
there-a slender little woman, with a
pale sweet face, and black hair, smoothly
braided and gathered into rich braids at
the back of her shapely head. Her dress
was u plain dark one, with white ruflles,
cuffs and apron. She had been sewing,
but her work was put aside, and present
ly she came to the open window and
drew aside the curtain. She did not see
the tall figure drawn closely against the
wall in the porch, but her dark eyes
looked mournfully toward the sea, glim-
mering in the halflight.
'My darling!" she whispered. "Are
you dead, that you seem so near to me
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