Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1878-07-25
NO. ia.
Vales aud Sketchfs.
FOUND IN A SNOW-DRIFT.

Lost. Lost IN the snoT-storm IN the
wilds of Northern Michigan. with the
painless pine wilderness stretching miles
beyond miles, on every side. without guide
or compass. my dead horse beside me. and
the snow falling so thicky and fast that
the sky was dark with the swarming
flakes.
Two months before | had come from
New York to Pere Marquette, at the sum-
| mons of my father who had been stricken
in the midst of business by maladv that
eventually made me an orphan girl with
a small fortune, but without a relative in
the world
On one stormy winter morning they bur
led my father in a lonely burial-E lace
among the pines of the Notipecago river,
and was left alone. We all know the
desolalion of the house of death-the SOM
bre windows, the funeral gloom. the muf-
fled football and the whispered voices
and many of us. in our dumb anguish,
have felt the lowering, unobtrusive pres
ence of sympathetic friends.
But knew nothing of this. Nv father
had died in a woodman's shaniy in the
depth of the pinery, where he had been
stricken down in the strength of his Wig
orous manhood. The uncouth but kind and
very last, and did all that humanity could
do for me in my bereavement.
| II don't like to leave you alone tonight"
| he said to me after the burial "but have
a patient who is lying betwaen life and
death in our village. The storm is in
| creasng, and it is bitterly cold; so | do
| not think that YOU had better subject Your
self to the disagreeable ride tonight. ]
will send sledge for you in the morn
ing
Dr. Jones lived a mile or two away, at
some indefinite (to mel village in the pine
forest and the railroad that ran through
the place was to be my route of travel
ciiyward on the morrow. A few dreary
hours passed Nightfall came, and the
ring of the woodman $ axe ceased. Dark
ness came, and | knew by the soundless
desolation around me that the woodmen
had gone home to their distant cabins.
was not afraid | was accustomed to
the unbroken solitude of the wilderness.
But then there was a new solitude tonight
the fearful solitude of the house through
which death had stalked and left he hor-
ror of his presence upon every object
around. | missed, too, the patient figure
on the bed in the dim corner. for whose
lessening breath had been won't to listen
in the watches OF the friendless midnight.
| lit "A candle and put it high upon dress
er. that its wayering light might reach
the taitherest nook of this doleful room.
Then sat down before the stove and tried
to think. Life loomed up before me like
| a barren mountain on which the sunlight
fell not, and the birds sang not. nor the
| flowers blossomed.
The new year would come To morrow.
One year ago | had been so blessed, so
happy, now how hopeless, how miserable
| was. One year ago Alexis loved me,
and loved him. and we were betrothed.
Then my father had gone on his fatal
Western quest and a little after she came
that tigeri>h animal in her sumptuous
beauty, who lived deliciously, and whose
smile made men mad.
Alicia Lowering came with her blandsh-
ments and won the NANNY lover-tor
whom she cared less than she did for the
Jewels She wore on her breast And
Alexis forgot me; aud Alexis rode with
| Alicia in her phaetou in the morning; he
| rode beside her in the afternoon, with one
| hand on her bride rein and his adoring
| eyes upon her face he dned with her in
her luxurious apartment, he supped with
her when the music was silent and the
| dancers were weary; they sang. and
| laughed. and loved; and | was forgotten.
For Alexis was drunken with her en-
chantmentS. He loved her, and he would
have married her. And then the sequel
| came. A shabby, loathsome outlaw de-
posed with the most condemnatory proof,
| that this runaway wife was the perpetra-
tor OF an atrocious crime, for which he
had been silently convicted; and that
| woman, common thief. with these stains
upon her soul-was Alicia.
Alexis heard the astonishing tidings and
| know he suffered. / ptled him for
| loved him still-ah, yes. for woman's
| heart is weak. would have died to have
saved him from the shame OF that woman's
| foul caresses.
| never saw him but once after the aw-
| ful disclosures. 1t was at midnight, and
| met him in a lonely street. | do not
think knew what | was saying. Ii was
my heart that spoke while my pride was
dumb.
"Oh. Alexis" | cried, II don't hate
you; | forgive you
| shall never forget his look as | said
those words. | was awed by proud.
defiant something had never seen there
/ before.
| | thought then that he was angry, or
that he deSpised me, for he turned and left
me without a word. thought all this az
| sat there, that New Years Eve. in the
solitary cabin, with the pale candle light
wavering across the ghosty shadows in
the corners, and did not forget that death
had sat there with me like spectre, or
that outside the old Year was bowling in
his dying agonies. | wished it was morn
ing. and yet it was far from the midnight.
Then | grew appreheDsiye. and longed
nervousy to leave the shanty, and go over
to DIR. Jones which thought could not be
far away.
Il will 60" decided at length.
Wrapping myself up warmly, extin-
guished the candle, and. securing the door
of the cabin, went to an adjoining shan
ty where my horse was stabbed. The ami
NAL had been ailing for day or two.
Only cold" the woodman had said who
tended him. His food lay untouched be-
fore him, and he stood shivering with
dropping head. as entered the stable,
and as put the bride upon him he turned
ptifully towards me, as il pleading
dumbly against the cruel selfshness that