The daily Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1878-1???, 1879-10-15
| try to tho old comfy ,own Of midland
shires, bearing q his lone man come

back to die.0
, Come back to die? lie, with his tai
form, broad chest and bronzed face9 He
with the years still young upon his head
Yet nature, which, dlsown her a.
|. We may, compels us to yield t.
' her demands, nature had cried ou
"Home," and he had yielded. Better &c
die there than with strangers, unknown
perhaps unburied. I'm
And yet, when spring has clothed the
land again in all her beauty, it scarcely
seems the time to die. Still, I would
rather die in the spring time, and draw
my last breath of untainted air, to lie at
last beneath some young, fresh budding
tree, than to leave the earth in her term OF
darkness and chilly wintering. Some such
must have been felt by the king, stern
ruler though he has been, who could not
die within palace walls or clustered abbey,
whose soul demanded that his eyes should
look upon nature in her beauty, it
could not out cot door or window"
As he neared the village of his home he
asked himself, in doubt and irresolution,
why had he returned9 And he answered
himself, that time had thrown doubt
upon words which, when he had heard them
uttered, seemed to bear but one meaning.
Now he asked himself if he had not with
jealous soul hastily placed upon
them a construction they were not meant
to bear. Was his the error? Better far to
solve the question-to forgive, and fenced
be, to be forgiven.
When, toward the close of that May.dav,
the train reached its journeys end, Gerald
Edwards, for it was he, looked once more
upon the wel-remembered scenes.
As the chaise bore him from the station,
and he turned his face toward the village
home he had left in such great bitterness of
heart, who shall say what feelings, what
emotions passed through his breast! Was
the old anger dead9 Was the hope OF life
quite gomez
The chase ratified onthrough the deepen
ing gray Of evening, and the traveller passed
through old and well-remembered spots to
his home. Did recollections of old and
happy days come crowding in upon HIM
like troops Of friends to welcome his re-
turn!
Welcome! From whom! From-not--
not from her---she was dead, he knew-but
from his brother.
So he had returned to sec the old place,
to hear once more the voice that had
laughed with his in childhood, and, dying
to lie near her who even yet he found filed
the one place in his thoughts and in his
heart, and the tress Of whose bright golden
hair laid upon his breast still breating for
love Of her.
And now, when the. chaise has reached
his village home, he fears the coming meet
ing at the farm, and dares not think it NAV
be happy there. He leaves the chaise at
the corner of a lane that leads away up to
the quiet old village church, and bids the
driver 90 slowly on, forgetting for the mo-
ment where it would lead hip-only wish
ing for the respite Of few minutes and the
quiet of the evening he walks on until he
stands under the grand old trees 10y the
dear old church, and finds around him white |
heading quiet graves dotting
he green churchyard. Beneath him lies
he village, and be can make every turn of
Wv ''"'"S ~ olpAiS uSuIlN ~ lijt
other corner OF the chuIchyard. Would it |
have its old red glow of freight in the
kitchen, blazing through the windows, win
er or summer!
Actingupon the impulse of his thoughts,
le crossed the churchyard towards the
ther side, trembling, not from the ghostly
imness of the place, but from very eager
ess. He was weak he knew, and the ex-
itement he thought would pass off. But
efore he could reach the point he had pro-
osed TO himself; before he could view the
arm, the home to which he was returning
ow, he stopped as though struck.
There before him stoodthe box-like stone
Which marked the entrance to the Rutland
aut. 1t came upon him so suddenly, and
ct he knew II so well, but had not
bought, that he staggered as though he
ad received heavy blow. The memory
nd the presence Of the dead came before
i'm, and ne stood spell bound transfXed
y the terrible charm of deaths monument.
The trees waved in light, leafy canopy
YER the sacret place and all around the
ght and quiet air seemed to be. To him
seemed that the statute angles guarding
he corner Of the vault were indeed angles,
nd shed around that grave-her grave, he
housht-'heir holy light Only when the
caves rustled at last the spell upon him
eemcd loosened, and then he staggered for.
yard.
Ida, Idam he cried aloud, "Why did l
yer leave you?"
Gerald, Gerald whose fault was that"
aid voice close to him. :
Raising his head separated from him on
y 10y the stone, he saw his brother.
And so they met. There was no anger
MY anguish, in Gerad's mind.
Take me away, Frank" he said. "This
too much for me now. ! have come back
o die"
mo, not to DIE Gerald. You will be
letter soon and She"
Hush, hush, for PHYS sake Take me
way from here. Take me home-your ,
lome, if you will" Gerald said.
MY homer Both our homes--the old
Iome, Gerald" ''
"Harks" said Gerald, as they turned to
he gate. "Harkw fu ~..u. =
Below them the sound of voices coming 7