Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1878-02-28


happiness; days full of sunshine aud the
music of the spheres; dark and cruel days
| when the clouds that threatened showed
no silver Innings. On such a morning Sc
many years ago. Angus and she had gone
out to gather spring flowers, and the wood
had been fun Of spicy odors. aud the pale
bloodroot was waiting for them. Its petals
all on up-toe; at such another date they
listened 10 the nightingale's futing while
the stars stole out as II to listen with
them, and the new moon hung a golden
bow low In the heavens. and she had
asked, do you never wish oy the new
moon. Angus" Never" he had answer
/ ed; but | shall tonight; | shall wish
| that YOU NAV love me forever and ever"
| And then he had kissed her and ''the
! nightingales kept futing" There was
/ that day in June which should have been
| their wedding dav; and the time when he
/ kissed her last. under he golden laburuum
tree; and then that dreadful morning
| when her father came home. black As \
thunder-cloud, and swore she should new
er marry the son of the man who had
/ ruined him. who had robbed him Of the in
vention into the perfection OF which he
/ had put all his money. his hopes and his
energies for years. Bertha had refused to
renounce her lover on account Of his
fathers wrong there had followed scene;
iheh her father had seemed to soften, and
had travelled To London with her 10 talk
the matter over with a LAWYER She had
been glad enough to go. for was not An.
gus somewhere IN the great throng OF
7 London st his work? would she not be
sure TO meet him: But the dsy after they
reached the big noisy city her father had
taken her ont and on board ship. sight
seeing; aud suddcnly. while she looked
and listened aud wondered and talked
with the captaiu-who was in the secret
suddenly the shore, the masts. the stCeplc.
began to recede. and they were standing
out 10 sea. bound for America. Oh. what
long and hateful voyage It was how she
longed for the sight of Angus, 10 say lust
one parting word. 10 tell him il wa no
fault OF hers, and she should love him for.
ever aud ever What terrible DAYS they
were which carried her farther and farther
from England. The fine weather seemed
wasted without Angus. When storms bore
down upon them she only shivercd AZ the
thought OF DYING apart from him. But a.
they drew near the New World, her "a.
iher, weakened hv 4 long sud useless
struggle with fortune, and broken utterly
By this 'urkiUd",i cut" gave mp the ron.
test and lay down to die
Promise me. Bertha. he begged
promise that YOU will never write to that
rnan son. that YOU VIII hide Yourself
froui him. Promise me. or stall not r..t
In my grave. Promise. child. and shall
die easy, willingly. Can you refuse thi,
last reques;-' And amidst grief and dis-
traction. poor Bertha promised. And shr
had kept her promise for twenty wears ana
better. Never one word for Angus had
crossed IA" water 10 tell him whether .he
lived or died. though longing thoughts
and wishes went out TO him on every wind
that blew. though night aflcr night her
pillow was wet with bitter tears. though
he had never been out of her mind. waking
or sleeping. AZ first -hc had comfortel
nor .,t. bi,,.,,r -. - ~, ho would duh |
hope faded aud dnfeaI. dnfaI aSh ~ wTag gY9Ssfh,IHS
burial How should he know that she had
proved true, that she had loved him Oh
aud on: Why should he not suppose that
She had left him of her own choice, be-
cause she scorned the son OF hi. father:
No doubt he had taught himself to unlove
her had almost forgotteu the old fonGncss
the old hurt had married some good wo
man. and was happy by his own tiresidc
with his children. She hoped he was hap
py; a. tor that good woman. she did no.
care TO think Of her overmuch. But daily
she pictured him in the midst Of his family
pictured him young and handsome. with
the color in his smooth cheeN, the bronze
shade in his waving hair, the sparkle in
his eyes. forgetting that twenty years had
robbed him OF youth and its beauty.
When her father died there had not been
enough money left in the purse to take her
home 10 England. though Captain Sey
mour would gladly have carried her back
without ii If she would have taken him
back for better or worse. Aftersard she
had parted with her trinkets one by one
for her daily bread, till she could earn
with all but tie shining rin2 that Angus
had given her. and which was now worn
quite thin. though the odd Legend engraved
within was yet plainly legib,e
Though he seek till he be gray.
Love will find out the way
But in an these twenty years she had
never saved enough from her necessities to
pay her homeward passage. Ii perchance
she GOT few dollars ahead. some poor
SOULS greater need appealed TO her; and It
Was now fifteen years since she had grayl-
tated TO Great Herrington and cast anchor.
but no one in all the place dreamed that ro
nance had ever touched so plain and old
and commonplace a body as Miss Bertha.
who was doubtless made 10 sew. 10 tend
the sick. and stew gruels and broths and
mustard plasters, leaving the poetry Of life
for her younger Eeighbors. She had been
out. toward the last of January, watching
all night. and as she stepped into the frosty
air, and began TO remember that she was
hungry and drowsy. she suddenly encount-
cred DR.. March coming round a corner.
Speak of angels and you hear their
wings" said be. Il was thinking of YOU,
Miss Bertha. this very minute"
Don't turn my head, doctor"
Well. you see. the brig Abby JrHe came
in last week. She's whaler-been of
these two years. Most of the crew belong
IN Great Harrington. and the deuce take 1t
if they aren't all down with the ship-fever;
came ashore as well as you are too. Now
the bother is. some have families to look
after them, and some haven't; and all the
people as scared as they were in the small
pox panic, and nurses can't be found for
love or money-at least not enough. I've
been up myself these two nights with one
poor fellow who's wild as hawk. and I'm
ready TO drop. not to speak of my other pa
tients, and | can't find any body willing to
look after him; and / didn't Know
thought TO myself, there's Miss Bertha,
she's always ready TO do a good turn. and
she isn't afraid Of man, the devil, or the
small pox-"
And so you'd like me to go to him."
Exactly. He'll die If you don't. It's
missionary work, Miss Bertha. I don't
know as the man has a sou to pay a nurse"
said she.
That's lucky. Come home with me and
drink cup OF Mrs. March's coffee, and then
I'll take you to the Harrington Arms.
There's where our patient put up when he
| came ashore. Looks as IL he'd no kith or
kin in the place, and don't remember his
face In these parts
Poor fellow! poor fellow!" Miss Ber-
tha had forgotten that she had been up
overnight and was breakfastless.
II thought. to be sure" she mused, dur
ing the next nights vigils-"I thought, to
be sure, he was young man; but he is
grayer than am. wonder il his wife is
looking for him home soon. He isn't wealth
er-beaten like a sailor; his hands are white
and soft and we'll kept. like a gentleman's
don't believe he ever tarred the ropes be-
fore this. Perhaps he is reduced in circum.
stances, and went whaling to seek his for.
tune. | wonder II he will die" But the
disease left her little time Tor idle refiec-
4 A.