San Marcos free press. [volume] (San Marcos, Tex.) 1877-1892, 1878-09-21

girl-and there were those reu sPols IL,
her cheek, and her eyes burning, ana
her lips close pressed! You could hear
the bees humming in the locust BIOS
SONS outside, and the air stirring the
leaves of the great Bible on the table,
but when the drops sort o. glistened ana
fell on the baby's forehead, there wasn't
the faintest rustic of silk in the room.
You could see people wiping away
tears, for every body loved Julie, and
every body knew what she was endur-
ing. Then there was the prayer-l've
said and III say it again that II was
tender and sweet as If Christ himseii
had made it over the poor child ana her
child.
We drew the baby home, and re-
member Just how the sunlight fell aslant
the trees in the Park, and on the turf,
and how it lay in door-yards facing the
west. 1t was June afternoon, you
know.
The men from Blodgett's had come
out to sun themselves on the strip OF
turf before the saloon. AS the baby's
small carriage-wheels crunched upon the
gravel, jules husband raised himself
upon one elbow and stared at us.
"Hallo, Ju!", called he; "that you,
Jup"
She didn't say word, and she hard
ly spoke all the way home. l thought
she had rather be alone, and so left
her. ..
All the remainder of the afternoon she
sat out upon her piazza, alone with her
baby.
The sun set beautifully that night, and
you know how from that place you can
see the evening purple come over the
lake, and the lights CLEAN out from the
village, and Just how solemn and quiet
it is there! Well, she sat there until
near IL o'clock, then Hammerston came
fumbling at the gate and staggering up
the walk.
"Ju," said he, "Blodgett laughed at
me about your taking the baby to be
baptized this afternoon; did you take itP
Did you, Ju HammerstonP"
"Yes, did, Jonn."
He started to strike her, but, stagger-
ing, you see he hit the baby and knock
ed it on the stone walk. .,...
Dreadful! This is life only. 1t has
nothing to do with eschatology, you
know.
1t didn't kill him, nor it didn't make
him complete idiot, but he was always
what we mothers call backward"
Hammerston laid all the blame upon
Julie and upon the church, and he
drank, and drank, and crank, until the
house was like-that place people don't
believe in nowadays.
Blodgett came around pretty soon
with security upon the house Julie had
been coaxed into giving, and your uncle
again bought it, this time taking the
deed himself. But Hammerston then
took notion that he wouldn't be under
obligations to any one, hired tenement
over Blodgett's and moved his family
there.
o, the life that he led her there! She
made me think of one of these little
sweet white violets growing in the
slough.
All at once Hammerston disappeared,
and your uncle and 1 between ourselves
said, good radiance. We moved Julie
back to her old home, and, though
whenever a sleet storm beat against
the house, or the snow drifted, or it
rained hard, along in November, she
would stand watching and signing at
the window, and though the trial that
boy was to her no tongue can tell, she
had begun to look happy and to sing
again in little snatches, when back came
Hammerston.
He looked like ghost, and said he
shouldn't trouble us long, but he did.
He lived three years, and he made his
poor health an excuse for all sorts of
outrages. When he became too feeble
to 60 out, the scenes with him were past
all description.
Seeing him upon his death-bed, l one
day tried to talk with him, Bible in
hand.
al don't want any of your blue or
ihodxy!" says he; "yOur own minis
tiers don't believe in it. I've heard them
talk. l expect to take it for while,
but shall 'stave it through. A few
years, more or less, make no great diff
ference. Ju, Ju, say!-"
He died, Julie sitting upon the bed
supporting him that he might breathe
easier, her poor thin fingers stroking his
hair, while she said:
Cant you put your trust in Jesus,
JohnP Can't you love him now, JohnP
o, John!"
But he died and gave no sign.
Your uncle had already done so much
for her that Julie now set her heart up
on earning her own and Tony's sup
port, and all the village helped her.
When Tony was IA, Mr.. Howard, the
mill-owner, gave him work.
Mr.. Howard, now, was one of those
men who incline you to liberal views,
rot much of church-goer, and no great