Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1880-07-22
lait his hand on Toms shoulder and
said
Il arrest you, SIR
For what?' | cried.
FOR murder

II or Wnat L crleO.
For murder
The floor seemed gliding from
beneath my feet, but | caught q,
the flood to steady myself and
looked at Tom. At that instant
the officer uncovered his lantern.
and oh, God there Was blood on
my husbands hands
Ali tbs rest is blank. When |
came to myself again, / was in my
room, and kind, ccmpassio nate faces
were around me. 1 asked for Tom.
He was in prison waiting his trial.
There had been quarrel at the
tavern, and Tom had struck his
antagonist. The man wasn't dead
though they thought be was at first
but he was badly hurt about the
head. But if he reccvered-well, it
would not go SO hard with Tom.
arose and went to the prison !;
but they would not admit me. No
one was to see my husband until
after the trial. Another day erept
by, night, and when the morning
came | went down to the door and
opened it, with vague feeling of
expectation which always accom-.
panies several affections, and looked
out. The sun was rising grandly
and brightly over the black stone
Jail. The frost hung thick aud
| sparkling over everything, even
over the scrap OF folded paper that
lay at my feet. stopped and
picked it up idly, as we catch at O.
straw or twig sometimes without
any motive or power of voIition.
The superscription caught nv eye,
1t was my own life, it was my own
name and my husbands hand writ.
log. | tore it open and road:
DEAR Lucy 81 have broke out Of Jail, and
am gone-wel, no matter where. | didn't
strike Hastings with an intention to kill him.
| was intoxicated and ii was more his fault
than mine; but he may die, and then-but at
any rate it is better for you, Lucy for me to
60. | never was worthy of your love. Now
you can 60 back to your father, and forget
me and be happy. You will find the bonds
for the money have in the bank, in the
desk it is enough to make you and the child
comfortable. Forgive and forget me, Lucy.
God bless you-you and the baby. Tom
This was the end This was the
reward that my CROSS word pur-
chased for met Truly, the wages
of sin is death We Shall not need
one pang of corporesl punishment,
one spark of real fire to perfect our
torment If we are lost. Conscience
is all eufficient-remorse, that worm
that never dies. 1t is not for me to
talk about what ! suffered in those
days that followed the morning
Words could not express it, save to
one who had passed through the
same furnace of affection. But |
lived, for sorrow aud death rarely
walk in each others steps add
nursed my baby, and did the work
my hands had TO do l did not go
back to nay father. [ remained at
Toms home, and kept his things all
about M, even bis cap hunging on
the wall. Forgot hia ? Does love
ever forget?
Hastings did not die He re-
covered and made g public state
mont. He was moro in fault than
Tom was. Then he put notice
in all tbs papers, telling Tom to
come back bnt be did not come.
The winter passed away with
long, long nights of bitter rsmorse,
and tender recolcctions of the dear
busband whose strong arm had once
been my stay end support /; the
spring came-the summsr-another
winter; three years went by-crept
by.
My child. Toms little baby, grew
to be fair little thing, with blue
eyes and golden hair and a tongue
that never wearied of its childish
prattle. All day long she sat on
the door step, where the evening
sunbeams slauted in, lisping to her
doll, and listening while | told her
of the father who would come back
to US some day. For surely he
would come. Most surely Gods
mercy would vouehsafs compensa>
tiou, some pardon for such repent.
ance as my soul had poured forth.
The third spring was peculiar !;
somehow tbs far,off sky seemed to
drop down in nearer, bluer folds;
the sun wore softer radiance; the
trees, the grass, the flowers, d.
viuer, senderer beauty. | rose every
morning and looked out of my win.
dow at the kidding beauties of the
morn, with feeling of strange,
tremulous expectation. seemed
to feel the shadow of some great
event that winged IS light above
me-sne prayer of my heart sesmsd
about to be answered.
One evening oh, that evening !!
A May sky, soft and blus, hung over
. green, bloisemipg earth F; the tur.
tie dove cooed in the distant wood
aud the robin tsittered TO hsr
young brood amid the milky bloom
of the orchard. Gods love shone in
the golden brightness of the west
ward going sun. My child, little Eff
fe, sat on the door step taking to
her doll and watching tho birds. All
at once che olsppsd her dimplsd
hands and bounded to her feet.
NANNY shssried glsefully, pap.
py cemin'-pappy csmiH'; Etfis go
mset.'
The words stirred my heart to its
utmost depths ; and dropping my
work / followed her out of the door.
A man was coming up the garden
path-his garments tattsrsd, his
steps slow and uncertain. A bsggsr,
no doubt. | called Elite to come
back, but she ran on, needless of my
command. Toms little spaniel, that
1 had petted and taken care of for
his sake, darted from his kennel with
peculiar cry, such as | had never
heard from it before.
What did it all mean? Ny heart
throbbsd aud my knees trsmbled
Little Effis ran on, holding out beth
dimpled hands, her golden curl:
blowing all about her rosy face
'How-de-do, pappy? Is'e your Efie,
she lisped as she reached the man;
feet.
He stopped and raised her in biz