The spirit of democracy. [volume] (Woodsfield, Ohio) 1844-1994, 1878-04-16
Wissreua,,ln n :.
Thestory ofaLctter.
&C HAnv letter for me to.day ?''

Il
Thestory ofaLetter. ~ II
"Any letter for me to-day p M al
The old postmaster took down a
bnnch of letters from "Box A." and
looked them over slowly. He always
did when Maggie asked for letters, al |
though he knew well enough--sympa.
thetic old man that he was--thats there
was none for her, and that s"no" must
be the answer, let him defer it as long
as he, could. Ha3nt she come regular.
ly every day, rain Or shine, for the last
six months, with that same question up
on her lips, that question to which q
negative reply Was alEays given. al j
Poor Maggie Austin! Every one said
two years before. when gay. dashing
Hugh Austin led her to the alter, that
the young scapegrace only courted the
girls property, and when he had obtain
ed that would not hesitate to cast the
sweet, trusting wife aside to suit his con-
venience Hugh Austin was poor
Maggie was an orphan and rich. Hugh
embarked in an unsuccessful speculation
and lost all--Msggie said, "Never mind
Hugh, we can work" And she smiled
just as sweetly as when she said year
previous, II am yours, Hugh"
But poverty was stinging, and the crv
Of "gold, gold," came from the far-off
mines of California. Hugh Austin went.
Every one said he meant to desert his
young wife and baby; that he had left
them unprovided for, and what would
they do2 Every one said that hand
some and winning and pleasing as Hugh
was, he was rascal after all--"every
one" said so, and "every one" believed
lit, except Maggie, who with noble wo-
mans trust, scorned alike the imputa-
ton and its supposed fabricators.
"Writing home, eh p
| Hugh Austin yawned, wiped the ink
from the pen upon his black curls, and
then replied;
eyes" ~ ~
"To that dear little wife OF yours, eh,
Hugh"
"Yes again, you inquisitive Charlie"
Linguistic, am II Well, I'll earn the
cognomen then. Pray, how many let
ters have you written the charming little
lady since you've been heres"
A crimson flush crept over the hand
some face. ~,
"I'm ashamed to own it, Charlie, but
this is the first."
"Firstp' Charlie Summers brought bis
!, hand down emphatically. "First! why,
you're a wretch most objectionable
wretch, mon cher"
"If it wasn't you, I'd strike yon for
saying that" replied the handsome
young Hugh Austin. "But I'll tell you
how it was; when arrived here, was
so busy, and hated letter writing 30 bad,
; kept putting it off day after day, week
after week, until was ashamed to write
without sending something besides
, words-they won't always pay the baker
and butcher, you know. Well, 80 /
waited and waited, and all I could do
was to lun clear myself; board high,
: and the miserablest luck in the world"
"And yet at single stroke you made
five thousand iollarsr' p
~ know it-wait, Charlie-I am a
wretch-I know it! As you say, at q
single stroke made ave thousand. In
one night ] lost it all. I was going to
write to Maggie the very next day.
, Then / was passing gambling hell--
went in. drank, played, lost and was beg
CARED! Could / write to Maggie then ?
Dared write her after ! had been in
! California six months and not send her
cent? So I waited, and KEEP. waiting
, until Just now. But when she gets this
letter she'll be q hundred dollars richer,
lpoor little puss-and then she'll forgive
me for my long silence, and che cant
help it."
She ought not to forgive you, Hagh.
"No, / know it; but, dear child, she
. loves me devotedly-and /, we'll, l be-
lieve I worship the very ground she
, walks on, Charlie" .
\. "MRs MAaaIs AUSTIN"
California postmark, superscription
Hugh Austin's we'll known hand. Was
; it possiblep The little old postmaster
read the address over and over-there
was no mistake, the letter had come.
"Won't she be glad-won't her eyes
shine3 o, will be worth hundred
! dollars to give this to her." said the old
postmaster to his wife.
II don't see why she don't come
said the little old postmaster, as the Of
]. lternoon wore away and the evening
Z came on. "You take the letter over
!. Hannah-poor thing, may be she or tht
lbaby's ILL"
e Rap, rap, rap.
q The winds were whispering softly
n among the lilacs in front Of Maggie Aus
t. ltin's window. The stars we're up in th'
o sky, and the moon looked down will
pale, sad face upon the little lame post
j. master as he stood at Maggie Austin'
door. R 81
= Rap, rap, rap. as J.
oo But there came no answer. at can
= = be that she's asleep"
III Ah. but Maggie was asleep! Heavel
: forgive her-for those who sleep thu
= never waken. Life had beentoo weary
, o, Maggie. with your dead baby claspe'
. upon your breast!-O, Maggie. if vol
had but hoped but one day more! =
: "Any letters for me today"
= Hugh Austin asked the question.
y "a strange handwriting-ah! m,
.! own letter, and two locks of bright hair
IS What can it mean7 Hugh Austin's fac
! y was very white, as he read in the hand
j. writing of the postmaster:
IS "Take back your letter-it came to-
" late; they are both dead! Heaven fol
II give you; your negligence killed them
10 Here is lock Of your wife's and baby
z hair. They are buried in one grave
g Heaven forgive you! o, If your lette
N had come one day sooner, or If Maggi
had but hoped and waited one ds
a more2"
#, ~The Boston Journal says: &c.
er New York banker estimates that S75
le 600, 900 Of our bonds held abroad hav
Id been returned and sold in the Unite
I'd States during the last four months.
he this be true, the country may be consit
to cred richer by that amount. and that Il
g LII 80