River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1879-07-10

| AUNT Jane. slle cries. anu nv let
ter is from Lanny Blatchford, who live
next door to her.
She studies the direction no longe but
tears the letter hastily open.
''Just what we might expect, coming
on this day." she says at last. Say wha
you will, Cyril. it Is an unlucs day.
'AIore than unlucky if your letter con
tains news that suppose it does"
say, gioomlly.
How the dim years stretch away before
me as | speak-the years that 1t will TAKE
DR. CASTOR to build up is practice the
years that it will take me to build III
mine; and all the time the dear littlt
girl, of ON Nell knows nothing, wait
ing patiently in the shadows of the New
England hills / wrench myself away
from such thoughts with an effort, ano
listen TO what Nell has to say.
''Isnt it a shamel" she Is saving, wher
come to myself. "If We never loved
Aunt Jane, it was because she never gave
us chance; and if e never cared any
thing Tor us, at least We were her only
| living relations. We could hardly have
/ expected her to remember us in her will
| suppose; but the least she could have
done, for the credit of the family, was to
| die without one. T en- we should rave
| had it in the course of nature and law
But to go and leave it all to this man.
"What mans' | ask, for, as ] have SAID,
my thoughts have been wandering while
| Nell talked.
Il don't know" Nell says, consulting
her letter again. Fanny does not men
ton his name; perhaps she did not know
| it. They say that your aunt, Miss Rum
sey, has left all her money to the son of a
man whom she Tilted when she was
young. No doubt she flattercd herself
that it was touch OF "poetic Justice, y
but | must say | think the plain prosaic
Justice of leaving it to her relations would
have been nearer the right thing. OF
course it IS all left to some Cr9sus, to
whom it will be but drop in the bucket"
says Nell bitterly. That's the way things
always 90 in is world, while we oh,
Cyril, why don't you say something's Isn't
it too BAD, and isn't it an unlucky day."
Il suppose it is" / say moodily. II
confess | cannot see hoa we arc to find
any good in this"
We spend our evening gloomily enough,
in spite of our efforts to cheer up and for
get | read little to Nell from dear
old FIN, and we try game Of cribbage,
of which Nell soon tires. Anime O'Clock
we bid each other goodnight in sheer
despair.
We are little more cheerful over the
breakfast table. Things can not look
quite so bad by the mornings light as
they did in the evenings shadows. Nell
he al, H..
that to-day will not be such chain of
mIsadventures as yesterday proved, and
forbear to rebuke er. Bridget is bring
ing in the hot cakes in instaIlments, and
as she sets the plate containing the third
batch upon the table, we notice that she
is looking at us curiouslv. Evidently
she would tain speak, but respect restraints
her tongue.
''What is it, Brids Nell asks. kind
ly.
Then the Irish que breaks bounds
"Sure, miss" ST. IS, sand haven't you
heard! An WASH blessed thing IN
tirely t. at you to fdress an couldn't
90 to the picnic Ad cess to it and its
like! The mil was Just after telling
me all about it. livery one o'thim L-niver
a one saved-the purity dears O wirra,
wirra,'
Bridget is on the point of breaking into
a genuine Irish cry, but Nell's words,
quick and eager, nip it in e bud
''What do you mean, BrIdget2 What Is it,
What have you heardl''
Bridget's tale is not easy to understa nd
diversified as it is by comments, and EN-
bellished with interiectlons. BY dint of
painful and skillful queshonings, how
ever, we elicit the truth at last. That
truth concerns the picnic TO which but
for Nell's accident we should have gone.
This picnic was gotten up by small
party OF friends from our own town. We
were to have gone by rail to spot five
miles distant, there to pick up Dr. Gas
ton, and transfer ourselves to huge
wagon which was to meet US. This part
of the programme seems to have been
carried out, in spite of Nell's and my de
lection. The excursion came to an alb
rupt conclusion, however; for barely
half mile from the station, the horses
took fright, ran violently down a steep
hill and upset the wagon at the bottom.
Two of the occupants were killed outright,
so Bridget reports, but who they were
she cannot say. OF the rest not one
escaped without injuries more or less
severe.
| looked at Nell. She was white to the
lips, and her eyes looked big and wild.
Another incident of your 'unlucky
day which turns out the best of good
luck" l say, not having as yet taken in
the full sense OF the catastrophe. "Arn't
you rather glad than otherwise now that
you pulled down the wardrobe"
Cyril" cries Nell, IN a shrill voice,
which hardly recognized as hers. Glow
can | be glad. Two were killed outright
and Miles CASTOR was there
pause IN horror. Then | begin to
argue. The names of those WHO were
killed are not known. Surely rising
young physician like DR.. Castor would
be one of the first to be mentioned if he
were one of the victims. But even as |
speak my heart sinks for remember that
DR.. CASTOR and another young man were
the only two that were not from our town,
the two, therefore, whose names were
least likely to he known.
Nell seems frozen to statue She
scarcely speaks. Only her dry lips wills
per: "You will go and find out, will you
not, Cyril DEAR"
OF course | will go; but just as l reach
the door | meet DR. Castor himself rush
ing down the street from the station.
''You herel Thank God" he cries
"But Nell-is she hurt? Is she" lie
pauscs, unable to articuiate the last word,
but | hasten to put him out of his misery.
"Nell is here, all right. We didn't go
to the picnic. An accident prevented.
But youl"
Il did not go either says DR.. CASTOR.
Il was called out unexpectedly for pro
fessional visit 1t was a critical case, and
| could not leave until too late for the
tram. l only heard of the accident this
morning, and came down at once
1t is good to see the rosy glow which
chases away Neil's pallor as l usher DIR.
Castor into the dining room. 1t is good
to see the light OF love and gratitude
which shines from his eyes as he sees her.
leave them alone as catch up my hat
and make my usual frantic rush for the
train, which again as usual | barely sue
coed in catching.
Somehow | cannot work to-day. My
nerves are unstrung, my brain hangs fire.
Thoughts of the accident, wonder as to
the real state of the case, fear as to which
of our friends may have suffered, crowd
my mind. A remembrance of Aunt
James crusl will intrudes now and then
but put it away. NO use crying over