Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1878-05-15


had once been brown and bonny
the eyes, which to-day are sunke
and pale, had looked out like lucer
beryls from under dark lashes
time ana toll and trouble ha
robbed the satin skin of its fin
texture, and scanned it with man
a line; little of youth remained i
her but heart alive to generou
impulses, and the color that sti
burned in her cheeks in spite of tn
frosts of her 40 odd winters. Yes
Miss Bertha had had her hayday
Miss Johnson, the Squire's daugh
ter, who lived in the finest house il
Great Harrington, and wore silk
that could stand alone, and sabl,
cloaks reaching to her heels, wht
ate off French china every day
and had never known what il wa.
to suffer from hunger, cold, or ia.
tigue, who had never had a sorrow
or lover-even she might have
envied poor Miss Bertha those hal
cyon days when Angus Aiken loved
her, when they walked together in
the moonlit garden in their English
home, and sat beside the fountains,
and listened to the silvery mono
tone, like some sad and gentle voice
complaining. No doubt Miss
Johnson would have bartered all
her dry goods and imported finery
for an experience as rich as this of
her elderly seamtress, about whom
no romance seemed to linger. To
be sure, everybody in Great Her
rington knew that after the vista
ton of the smallpox, Parson Chap
ell bad invited Miss Bertha to share
his temporal blessings, which con-
sisted of a small salary and four
mischievous boys with torn jackets
and dirty faces.
"The parson wanted a house.
keeper" the neighbors agreed. "Of
course man of his age don't fall
in love like a boy-with an old |
maid too! Seems as though she
must have thought he'd ask again
with a house all carpeted from gar
ret to cellar, and the gentry in his
gates, so to speak! l wonder what
Miss Bertha expects-at her time
Of life, too-when offers of marriage
aren't as plenty as wrinkles"
But Miss Bertha expected moth
ing. There was that in her history
which she would not exchange for
The Kingdoms of the earth and the
glory thereof; the dust of twenty
vears had in no wise furnished the
of it. She had her an
liversaries of half-guessed happi-
less days full of sunshine and the
music of the spheres dark and
ruel days, when the clouds that
threatened showed no silver Innings. |
IN such a morning, so many years !
go, Angus and she had gone ont {
D gather spring flowers, and the G
rood had been full of spicy odors, i
nd the pale bloodroot was waiting I
or them, its petals all in tiptoe at 9
UGH another date they listened to t
be nightingale's futing, while the /
tars stole out as if to listen with a
hem, and the moon hung a golden I
ow low in the heavens, and she s
ad asked, "Do you never wish by e
he new moon, Angus 7" "Never," I
g had answered "but l shall to- b
light; ! shall wish that you may b
I'VE me for ever and ever" And a
hen he had kissed her, and "the 9
ightingales kept fluting." There Q
'as that day in June which should h
ave been their wedding day; and e
ne time when he kissed her last, r
nder the golden laburnum-tree
nd then, that dreadful morning :,
hen her father came home, black Z,
thunder-cloud, and swore she .
hould never marry the son of a
IAN who had ruined him, who had
obbed him of the invention into !
he perfection Of which he had put y
II his money, his hopes, and his \
nergies for years. Bertha had re- 7
used to renouDce her lover on ac- il
cunt OF her fathers wrong; there 8
ad followed a scene; then her y
ither had seemed to soften, and q
raveled to London with her to talk 4
he matter over with lawyer. She Il
ad been glad enough to go, for "
'as not Angus somewhere in the n
reat throng of London at his n
'ork ! would she not he sure tn i
beet himi But the day after they v
cached the big, noisy city, her a
lthar had faLo, her a..4 a.. -