The Worthington advance., 1880-09-30

The awe-struck maid looked up afraid,
Az one wh0hears q sound
That rends the whole astOnished air
From caves OF guilt profound;
Then low replied, with eyeballs wide,
To him who would carouse:
The lemon is forbidden here:
We keep temprance houso"
-Harpers Magazine.
A SHOWER OF RAIN.
Down came the rain in pelting, mer-
ciless shower. At one crossing a NINA
ture lake had formed, several feet in
length and breadth, and three or four
inches deep; its shores on every side were
mud, black, slippery mud.
1t was amusing to see the hurrying
people, drenched, chilled, uncomfortable,
impatient to be home, come to dead
stop at this one crossing and hesitate,
with faces expressive Of disgust and
dismay.
What chance had Ethel Thornton's 8
poor little weary feet, SO miserably clad,
in such slough as this2 She glanced
a!ound despalringly. The next moment
she found herself lifted in a pair of
strong arms, carried high and dry over
mud and mire, and set down on the 9TH
er side, while her rescuer, raising his
dripping hat, with q pleasant bow and
smile, passed quickly on his way.
She stood where he had placed her as it
turned to stone, following his fast d,sap-
pearlng figure with her dark eyes. Her
hands were clasped convulsively, and
the color was flaming N her cheeks un-
der her wet black veil.
ut was F:ank!' she gasped. ut was
Frank himself, and he held me in his
arms and never knew me?''
A quick sob burst from her lips. Oh,
hard, hard fate! To meet thus-so close
and part without word. Her lover,
her promised husband of one short wear
60.
Just then her foot struck against some
thing hard. She stopped and picked it
up-a large pocketbook.
'Frank's!'' she said, quietly and hope
lessly; then she wiped it tenderly with
her handkerchief, pressed it to her lips
and slipped it into her bosom.
As she did this she threw her veil aside
and tears and rain together nearly blind
ed her.
Idoubt if Frank would have recog-
nized her. even if he had seen her tace,
1t was so worn and weary looking, and
so stained by the wet black veil.
Not much resemblance there to the
pretty, piquant, blooming girl whose
love he had 50 eagerly sought one year
ago; not much in her appearance just
now to tempt any man to WOO her. So
thought Mrs. Benton. the landlady, as
drenched condition.
Glad indeed was Ethel to reach the
quiet of her own room, glad OF the cup
Of tea her mother gave ler, glad to lie
down and rest.
She groped blindly to her little desk,
and put the pocketbook away.
"To-morrow,'' she whispered to herself.
"His address will be inside. I'll send it
back tomorrow" Then sinking back
wearlly on her bed she murmured, "Mo-
ther, feel so strangely. 1 wish-now-
that I had taken your advice and stayed
at home to day"
The words came family, in low, broken
gasps from her parched lips.
She lay still without speaking for some
time, and then articulated:
II failed again-no work-no hope
Her eyes closed, her voice ceased, she
fell back, burning and shiver1ng. The
poor child had contracteda a serious ILL.,
ness in that merciless shower Of rain.
Meantime Frank Merri6eld was an
athematizing his ill-luck In losing val
liable pocketbook with bills, receipts and
money-all sorts Of important matters in
it.
ut must have been when. carried
that girl over the muddy crossing. had
it the minute before and missed it short
~ afterwards. Confound my quixotic
follyl Why couldn't l mind my own
business and let her alone2 Poor little
thing, she looked so vet and miserable,
and Something about her somehow re-
minds me Of"
He paused and leaned his head upon
his hands in painful thought.
"Why can't I ever forget her2 Poor lit
tie frail false heart, why can't let her go9
Why does her sweet face haunt me every
where,-not bright and sparkling as I
used to know it, but pale and reprosch-
full looking? Reproaching mel All, Eth
el, how much I loved you! How hap
py we might have been to-day had you
been true.
He arose with an impatient gesture, as
one OF who, by an effort of will, puts
vain regrets aside.
"How to recover the pocket book
that's the present question. There is mon.
ey in it; the finder is welcome to that.
The bills and papers are what want,
and-her portrait. Yes, there's no use
denying it to myself, I sm fool enough
to care for that. I'll advertise it in the
papers. Confound that shower of rain!'
"Three weeks, mammal Three weeks
lying here dellrious9 Why, what could
have made me 90 illa My head is so
strange-1 seem to forget everything"
Mrs. Thornton gazed anxiously on the
poor girls wasted face-almost as white
az the pillow on which it lay.
"You got badly drenched and chilled,
my love, in shower of rain-''
"a shower of rain2''
The weak voice rang out clear and
strong, the dark eyes flashed excitedly;
she clasped her hands, while a vivid
crimson suddenly died her cheeks.
"Oh, I remember it all now. Please
reach me my desk.''
Then she told her mother her adven.