The new dominion. [volume] (Morgantown, W. Va.) 1876-1904, 1878-10-05

called her Pearl, though she was not
like our girls, but afraid, always deadly
afraid of the sea. / have seen her
clench her mite of hand and strike at
it, for she had bit of temper in her,
though nothing to harm.
when Hiram made his first voyage,
for they were all seafaring men here
abouts, and there was nothing for lad
to do but ship, the Pearl was just lit
tie washed-out lily, a fretting until he
came home again. And it was so when
ever he went, for they were sweethearts
from the first time he nestled her baby
face on her breast, when he picked her
up from the wreck. She was sixteen
when they were married, as near as we
could guess; Hiram was a man of
twenty-four. She prayed him stay at
home then, and he stayed year, but he
fretted for the sea, and he went again,
thinking, s'pose, that his wife would
get used to it, as well as all wives here
| abouts must do. But she never did
never. 1t was just pitIable to see her
60 about, white as a corpse, when Hiram
went away, never looking at the sea
without shudder like death chill.
All through the war it was just awful,
for Hiram enlisted on board man-o'-
war, and Pearl was just shadow when
he came home the last time"
After the warp
Yes, sir; but he made no money of
any account, and so went away again,
after staying at home a long spell.
Well, he never came back. 'Twasn't
no manner of use telling Pearl he was
lost; she'd just shake her pretty head
and say: He'll come back Not
mite of mourning would she wear, even
after his own mother gave him up and
went in black; for, sir, it stands to rea-
son he's dead years ago."
1t looks So"
"Of course it does; nobody else
doubts it but Mrs. Goldby. Old Mrs.
Goldbys last words were-' Pm going
to meet Hiram and they say the dying
know. But even then that didn't make
| Pearl think so. She wore mourning for
her who had been the only mother she
knowed of, but not weeds. Weeds was
for widows, she said, and she wasn't
widow"
" But the stone."
"Well, sir, Pm coming to that. A
year ago sir, fine gentleman from
France came here hunting for a child
lost on this coast. He'd heard of Pearl
by happen-chances, if there is such, and
came here. When he saw the clothes,
he just tainted like woman"
"She was related, them"
The strangers voice was husky, but
the sea air was growing chill.
Her father, SIR"
He took her away7"
" He tried to. He told her of splen-
did home he had in New York, for he'd
followed his wife and child, sir, to the
city they had never reached. He was
rich and lonely. He begged his child to
go, but she wonld not. Hiram will
come here for me- she said, and he
must find me where be left me-"
ooh what has she lived p
" Sewing, sir, mostly. The cottage
was old Mrs. Goldby's, and bless you,
Pearl did not eat much more than a
bird, and her dresses cost next to moth
ing. But there's no denying she was
very poor-very, and yet the grand
home and big fortune never tempted her.
So her father came o IF and on ~ see her,
until April. An he died, sir, and left
house in New York. But she'll not 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 shipwreck in the Pacific
Ocean, Davy, years and years ago, and
one man only was saved-sayed, Davy,
by savages who made him 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 abroad 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 sunset,
heard the story of his life from the lips
OF man cutting his tombstone"
Not word spoke Davy. Standing
erect, be seized an immense sledge ham,
mer, and with powerful blows from
strong, uplifted arms, dashed the mar
BILE into fragments. Then, painting
with exertion, he held out his brawny
hdhuo W euc ne1d'SoI-d Stranger no
longer.
GIVE 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-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 upon it, Davy-put lost at sea
for Hiram's lost, but he'll be found and
come back to me- She never looked at
it Hiram, never. And there's not an
hour, nor hasn't been for ten years, that
she hasn't been looking for you to come
back. Go to her, man, and the Lords
blessing be upon both of YOU"
So, grasplng the hard. brown hand,
Hiram Colby took the path to the little
white cottage where he had been born
forty-five years before. The sun had
set and the darkness was gathering, but
little CLEAN of light streamed from the
window of his cottage. He drew near
softly, and standing on the seat of the
porch, looked over the hail curtain into
the neat but poor sitting-room.
1t was not the grand house, PEARLS
heritage in New York, but Pearl herself
was there. A slender woman, with a
pale, sweet face, and black hair smoothly
banded and gathered into rich braids at
the back of her shapely head. Her
dress was plain dark one, with white