San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1878-12-21

there's no denying she was very poor
very, and yet the grand home and big
fortune never tempted her. 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 waitin' for Hi
rum, who'll never come
The stranger lifted his face, that had
been half hidden in his hand, and said;
"There was q shipwreck in the Pacific
ocean, Davy, years and years ago, and
one man only was saved. Saved, Davy,
by savages, who maie him q slave, the
worst of slaves. But one day this sailor
saved the. life of the chiefs daughter,
who was in the coils of huge snake,
and the chief released him. More than
that, he gave him choice spices and
woods, and sent him aboard the first
passing ship. So the sailor landed in a
great city, sold his presents and put the
gold in safe keeping. Then he Travelled
till he reached the seaport town where
he was born, and coming there at sun
set, heard the story of his life from the
lips of the man cutting his tombstone"
Not word spoke Davy. Standing
erect, he seized an immense sledge
hammer, and with powerful blows from
strong, uplifted arms, dashed the mar
BILE into fragments. Then, painting with
exertion, he held out his brawny hand
to the stranger-a stranger no longer.
"I've 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"
"You will prepare her, Davy?"
"She don't need it, Hiram-she don't
need it. You asked me about the stone
The neighbors drove her to ordering it,
twitting her that, now she was rich, she
grudged the stone to her husbands
memory. SO she told me to cut it, but
says: Don't put dead on it, Davy. Put
lost at sea; for Hiram's lost, but he'll
be found and come back to me- She
never looked ut it, Hiram, never. And
there's not an hour, and hasn't been i'll
ten years, that she's not looked for you
to come back. Go to her, man, and the
Lords blessing be upon you BOTH"
So, grasping the hard brown hand,
Hiram Colby took the path to the lit
tie white cottage where he was born,
forty-fve years before. The sun had
set and darkness was gathering, but a
little CLEAN of light streamed from the
window of his cottage. He drew near
softly, and standing on the seat in the
porch, looked over the curtain into the
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 Il
pale, sweet face, and black hair, smooth
ly banded and gathered into rich braids
at the back of her shapely head. Her
dress was a plain dark one, with white
ruffles, cuffs and apron. She had been
sewing, but her work was put aside, and
presently 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, glimmering in the half light.
my darling!" she whispered. "Are
you dead that you seem so near to me
tonight? Are you dead, and has your
spirit come to take mine where we will
part no more?"
Only the wash of the waves answered
her Signing softly she said: as it
my darling? I feel him SO near to me
that I could almost grasp him."
She stretched her arms over the low
window-sill, and low voice answered
her: Pearl! PEARL"
The arms that had SO long Srasped
empty air were filed then, as Hiram
stood under the low window.
do not move, love- she whispered,
pressing her soft lips to his, Il always
wake when you move.
"But now, he said tendcrly, you are
already awake. Sec, Pearl, your trust
WAS Heaven given. 1t is myself, your