The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1878-09-26


ago, sir, q fine gentleman from France
came here hunting for . child, lost on
this coast. He'd heard of Pearl by hap
pen chances, if there is such. and came
here. When he saw the clothes, he just
tainted like a woman"
"She was related, then7"
The strangers voice was husky, but tn
sea air was growing chill.
"Her father, sir"
'He took her awayW
"He tried to. He tod her of splend-
ed 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
90, but she would not. 'Hham will come
here for me- she said, 'and he must find
me where he left me-"
ION what has she lived2"
''Sswing, sir, mostly. The cottage was
old Mrs. Goldbys, and bless you, Pearl
did not eat much more than bird, and
her dresses cost next to nothing But
there's no deny ing she was very poor
very, and yet the grand home and Zig for
tune never tempted her. So her father
came ON and on to see her, until April
An he died, sir, and left our Pearl all Ills
fortune and the grand house in New
York. But she'll not 90, 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 a shipwreck in the Pacific
Ocean, Davy, years and years ago, and
one man was saved-saved, Davy. by saw
ages who made hin slave, the worst Of
slaves! But one day this sailor saved the
life of the chiefs daughter, who was in
the coils Of a hugh snake, and the chief re
leased him. More than that he gave him
choice spices and woods and sent him
aboard the first passing ship. So the sal
lor landed in great city, sold his pres
cnts and put the gold in safe keePing.
Then he travelled till be reached the sea-
port town where he was born, and COM
ing there at sunset, heard the story of
his life from the lips of a man cutting his
tombstone
Not a word spoke Davy. Standing
erect, he sliced an immense sledge ham
mer, and with powerful blows from strong,
uplifted arm. dashed the arble into
fragments. Then, painting. with exertion,
he held out his brawny hand to the stran-
ger-a stranger no longer.
live done no etter 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. TIE neighbors drove her tt
ordering it, twitting her that now she was
rich, she grudged the stone to bel
husbands memory. So she told me te
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 fcl
ten years, that she hasn't been looking foI
you to come back. Go to her, man, and
the Lords blessing be upon both of you.
S., grasping the hard, brown nand
Hiram Goldby took the path to the little
white cottage where LIE had been bort
forty-fve years before. The sun had SCI
and the darkness was gathering, but .
little CLEAN of light streamed from thu
window of his cottage. He drew nea1
softly, and standing on the seat of tn.
poarch, looked over the hal curtain int
the neat but poor sitting room.
1t was not the grand house, PEARL
heritage in New York, but Pearl herself
was there. A slender woman, with {
pale, sweet face, and black hair smoothly
banded and gathered into rich braids a
the back Of her shapely head. Her dress
with plain dark one, with white rutfles
cuffs and an apron.
She had been sewing, but her work wa
put aside, and presently she came to th'
open window and threw aside the curtain
She did not see the tall figure drawn
closely against the wall in the narrow
poa1ch, but her dark eyes looked mourn
fully toward the sea, glimmcring in thu
half light.
My darling!" she whispered, "are 20,
dead, and has your spirit come to taxi
mine where we shall part no more2"
Only the wash of the wave oelow an
swered her. Signing softly, she said
us my darling coming2 feel him 81
near to me, could almost grasp him :
She stretched out her arms over tn,
low window sill, and a low voice answered
her pearl! Pearl!"
The arms that had so long grasped on
ly empty air, were filed then, as Hiram
stood under the low window.
"Do not move, love-" she whispered
pressing her soft lips to his; II Away
wake when you move"
"But now" he said, "you are alread,
awake See, Pearl, your trust was heav
en-given. It is myself, your fond, tru
husband, little one, who will never lcav
you again"
ut is true! You have GOMEZ Sh
cried at last, bursting into torrent 0
happy tears. II knew you were not dead
You could not be dead and my heart no
tell me-" 1t was long before theyscoult
think of anything but the happiness..of
reunion after the many years of separa
ton, but at last. drawing Pearl closer
Hiram whispered-"I walked from -
love, and am enormously hungry"
And Pearls merry laugh chased tn
last shadows from her heppy face, ant
she hustled about the room preparing
supper.
"Supper for two!" she cried gleefully
The grand old house in New York i
tenanted by its owners, and Hiram goc
to sea no more; but in the summer tim
two happy people come for quiet montI
to the little white cottage at Monkton
and have always to listen to Davy's tall
of the evening when he was cutting Hir
am Goldby's tombstone, and ended b!
smashing it into atoms.
"For," is the invariable ending OF tn
tale. "Pearl was right, and we wer
wrong, all of us; for Hiram Colby wa
lost at sea, sure enough, but he was no
dead. and he came to her faithful love q!
she always aid be would"
A Practical Sweetheart.