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

The STONE-CulTERS STORY.
He was wkistling over his work, care
less, from leng custom, OF the solemn
sisniti ance of the letters he was cutting
in the white marble. The June sun was
nearly at tie end of the days journey,
sinking slowly to rest upon the bosom of
the broad Atlantic, whose waves washed
Il shores of the little seaport town OF
Mcnkton. A stranger, handsomely dress
cd in gray, With large, lustrous brown
eyes, came to the fence that was
around the yard where the stone-cutter
worked, and read the lettering, almost
completed, upon the tombstone:
HIRAM GOLDBY,
Aged IS.
LOST AT SEA, JANUARY, 1866.
The last six was nearly completed. A
strange palIor gath red for moment
upon TIE strangers face and then he
drew long, deep breath and said:
"1s not ten years long time to be
cutting letters on tombstone, friend2"
"Eh, sir7''
The stone-cutter looked, shaded his
eyes with his brown hand, as he turned
his face to the setting sun.
"Ihis is 1876" was the grave reply,
land airam Colby has been then years
under the waves"
"Well sir, that's the question--is he
there?"
lis he therc9 Your stone tells us he
is and has been for ten years."
"Yes, sir. so it does-so it does. And
vet she has or iercd it. She came over a
week or so back with a worried look upon
her sweet face that have never seen any
thing but patient in the long years, and
she said to me: you may cut stone,
Davy,' she says, 'and put it up in the
churchyard, and don't want to see it.
I'll pay you whatever you choose to ask,
Davy,' she says, 'but he's not dead, and
don't want tombstone 'Lor, mum.
says I, ned turned up all these years If
he was not dead But she shock her
pretty head, the prettiest ever seen, sir.
and she said: MY heart never told me
that he was dead, Davy, aud I'll never
believe it till my heart tells me So"
Ills sweetheart" questioned the
stranger.
Ibis wife, sir-his loving, faithful wife.
that's had poverty, and loneliness and
misery, her full share, and might ha' bet
tered herself"
allow was that?'
Alr. Miles. sir, the richest shop owner
hereabouts, he waited patiently for seven
.ong years, trying to win her. Then he
said that she was flee even if Hiram came
back"
''Enoch Ardcn," muttered the stranger.
GWhat did Won saw sir2n
"Nothing, nothing. What answer did
the widow make, Mr.. Miles?"
"lf Hiram's Dead said she, I'm his
faithful wife, "Maybe you are from the
city, sir, and haven't heard the story of
our Pearl?'
"What story is that2'
"Well, sir, it's been told many times,
more particularly in the last year, but
yo'Ie welcome to what I know of it.
There, that six is zone, and III leave the
Scripture text till morning. II you'll
come to the gateway and axe seat on
some Of the stones, I'll tell you, that is if
you care to hear it.'
II do care" was the grave reply; II
want very much to hear the story
MAYBE you're some kin to the Pearl
of Monkton-that's what they call Mrs
Goluby hcreaboAts. It's matter of
thirty three years back, sir, that there
was wreck off Monkton rocks, that you
can see from here, sir, now tides low.
Cruel rocks they are, and many a wreck
theyv seen, the more the pity. You see
them, sir2'
IL see them"
swell, sir, this one wreck, thirty-tl.ree
years ago, there was nothing washed
ashore but bit of girl-baby three or
four years old, with skin like lily .eaf,
and great black eyes. Hiram Goldby
found her on the rocks. He was boy OF
twelve years, strong and tall, and he
carried the child in his arms to hi,
mother. You may see the cottage, sir,
the second white one on the side of the
hill"
II see it,"
swell, Hiram took the baby there. and
Mrs. Goldby was the same as mother to
it-a good woman, God bless her soul
the Widow Goldby."
SIS she dead, then?"
AYE, sir, six years agone. The baby
| was telling you Of, sir, talked foreign
lingo, and was dressed beautiful in rich
clothes, that must have cost a power OF
money. But meyer would Hiram or the
widow sell them, putting them up care
fully in case the child was ever looked
tor. She was that pretty, sir, and that
dainty, that everybody 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 a
temper in her, though nothing to harm.
"When Hiram made his first voyage,
tor they were all seafaring men here
abouts, and there was nothing for q lad to
DO but ship, the Pearl was just little
washed out lily, fretting until he came
home again. And it was so whenever he
went, tor they were sweethearts from the
first time he nestled her baby face on
bis breast, when he picked her up
from the wreck. She was sixteen when
they we're married, as near as we could
guess; Hiram was man of twenty -four.
She prayed him to 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 we'll
as all wives hereabouts must do. But
she never did never. 1t was Just pitt
able to see her 80 about, white as 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 q
man. o:-war, and Pearl was just shadow
when he came home the last time"
"After the war;
"Yes, sir but he made no money
OF any account, and 50 went away
again, after staying at home long spell.
Well, he never came back. .Tvasnt M
manner of use telling Pearl he was lost
she'd just shake her pretty head and say
He'll come back Not mite of mourn.