American citizen. [volume] (Canton, Miss.) 1864-1890, 1880-10-16


edge of my duty; and, though it did
seem to me that only II miracle could
prevent the apidly-increaSing flames
FROM overtaking Us. | begged the dea-
con to clasp his arms tightly around my
waist that l might drag him, if possible.
to place of safety. He would not
consent at first. but when assured him
that | would not 20 and leave him, he
consented. And wonderful strength
did seem to be given me, so that we
struggled beyond the heat of the flames
and out upon n broad wall formed of
fallen stone and timber But we were
Il story above the ground, and the fire
was already stretching out around and
below. us. Then l saw the throng of
people outside; those who had escaped
the explosion and those who had come
to our assistance, and they were work
ing hard To save the rest of the mill
hands who were still in the ruins. We
were discovered, and then a wild, glad
shout rent the air. and l felt my head
grow dizzy and all my strength fail me,
as the deacon'S hands fell down from
my waist.
''Just opposite us rose another wall,
formed of fallen stones, like tue one we
were on. If we could but reach it, it
would be an easy matter to climb down
to the ground. But, between it and us
stretched a fiery furnace, and the red
flames were shooting continually higher
and higher.
"Suddenly, from out the excited.
eager crowd below, a young man sprang
and disappeared around the building.
He must have climbed like a cat,
through fire and darkness and smoke,
for he soon stood beside us, and, in less
time than l can tell it, he had seized
upon long piece of timber, and had
cast it across the chasm of fire. The
flames Immediately began to lick, greed
lily. about it. There was no time to be
lost; to reach the opposite wall before
the plank was consumed seemed i'm
possible. i mad sunk down, and was
trying hard to recover strength and
courage to move again. l felt like one
paralyzed, and the scene, the noise be-
fore and about me, was like a dreadful
dream.
".Take Catherine heard the dea-
con say, and then l felt the young man
endeavoriug to lift me.
but | could not leave the helpless
deacon lying there. There might be
other escape for me, l could still walk.
At any moment the great wall might
come crashing down, the plank would
be consumed, and there would be no
possibility of saving him. l would not
permit myself to be carried over, but
arose and stood upon my feet, and then
the brave fellow, seeing my determine
ton, turned, and without Il word gath
cred up the helpless deacon, and bore
him to a place of safety. Another
great, glad cry rose high upon the air;
and, as it died away, L saw the young
man place his foot upon the burning
plank to return for me. 1t was too late;
stone rolled from its place. a great
hungry tongue of fire sprang high, and
the narrow bridge parted, broke, fell,
and was lost in the pit below. Then,
Aunt Jane, 1 called again upon my
Father, and before the prayer had died
upon my lips, there was a violent rock
ing to and fro of the wall; it opened and
once more | descended into darkness.
when 1 recovered consciousness
again, was in my own little room. where
am now writing, and kind friend,
were bending over me, and the surgeon
was dressing my arm and side. When
the wall fell, as by 4 miracle, had been
thrown through an opening into the
open space beyond the fire, and so
saved! The deacon lies in critical
condition; hope he may recover for
his mothers sake, and for the sake of
the many to whom he has always been
such kind, and generous friend.
''Ought | not to be grateful beyond
expression, my dear Aunt Jane, for my
wonderful preservation? Does it not
seem as though l were good for some
thing that God lets me live? l shall,
know, hereafter try to make myself
worthy of such care.'
Here Aunt Jane folded up the letter
with tender fingers. and slowly took of
her moistened spectacles.
''She is a little heroine!' exclaimed.
''No wonder, Aunt Jane, you feel that
nothing is too good for her. Is Deacon
Martin so supremely selfish that he does
not appreciate the girl who risked her
own life for hisp"
Il calculate he can't forget it, re-
sponded my aunt, tersely. '.But he's
so powerful wrapped up in them 'specy-
mems o hisn, he ha'n't no eyes for her
needs, Sarah. He allus was movin'
round an bendin' over books, an
want nowise like the rest O the boys
of the village. He isn't so drefful old
now, not day more'n thirty-iive, but
he's got so kind o. keerless; an artcr
he bought out an interest in that there
onfornit mill, he had to give up roam
an it made him powerful irritatin'.
declare to goodness if don't believe
he looks on the ruination O. the con-
Germ as one O. his special providences,'
cause it leaves him free to stay to hum
awhile, an poke in the woods an fields,
an hang about the housed"
"Wiil he rebuild the factory?' 1
asked.
MARCY. yes. They're at it now; an
must confess Deacon Martin has ways
o gettin' round things to be done for
q shiftless man-that's amazin' to me.
But, on the hull" continued the soft
ened old lady, standing her ground, lit
isn't right for folks to be too depend
in. Our strength is given us to use
in the active sarvice O. the Lord, an
He's goin' to hold us accountable for
it. l ha'n't really no patience, to speak
of with the deacon's ways, and l do
hope Catherine has taught him u lesson
such as he can't forget. I'll go over
there a spell. L can't keep my mind no
longer, if he don't have more feelin' for
her goodr
A little later in the day, the old lady
called me, in a shrill, delighted voice,
from the porch where her knitting
needles, more lightning-like than ever,
flashed in and out the stocking-heel.
"What is the sudden matter for re-
joicing, auntP" asked.
at does beat all! What do you think,
Sarah?'
@. L don't know, I'm sure, Aunt Jane,
unless it is another one of Deacon Mar
tins special providences,' respond
ed nv mind naturally returning tn nv