Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1880-06-19

"I say, Bill. said man who was lounginy
against the bar; cigar In his mouth and his
hands in his pockets, why in thunder don't
screecher, III bet"
And In the storm she wandered re-headed,
which was the way home? All, home! No,
she couldn't go there any more, and yet it was
ali new except the river. The river-dare she
lump? Did 1t hurt? Was 1t dreadful to drown?
All! she wouldn't speak to her,-she wouldn't
speak to her. oh! how tired she was ana cold,
she would sit down and rest but where7 All,
mere was fence and gate and steps, and back
In there was a door. She would rest minute,
no one would open the door, 1t was all dark
inside.
Halfsheltered from the storm she sat, her
arms folded in her shawl her head uncovered
but she did not feel the snow that drifted softly
down upon it. She could only see little way
before her. but there was light way ff,-who re
was it? Somebody lived there. Somebody was
going home to it-would they take her In But
no. she was too tired, and she would rest while
longer.
Was it a house like that one on the fan long
ago? She " ould find one like that II she looked
her and SO pretty, and the garden was fun of
flowers and the little brook ran along making
just such noise as that one did right back OF
the cottage when she was little girl. Why,
1t vas that brook, and there was bridge She
stepped on 1t and ran across There were
flowers there too; she mustn't stop, she must
go on, they were so much brighter on beyond:
was she on the fan and the bridges? How they
went On and on! was the flowery land over the
edge or on the other side? There was one
more, no. two,-ah! how heavy her feet had
grown-how heavy-courage! they were beyond,
such bright flowers, they beckoned-ah! she
was over at last it lcds the f1Owery land, but
no, yet another bridge,-could she drag herself
to ft-Over it? But where?
All was black at the other end but where h I'd
It gone? Surely she saw 1t,-that nght-not in
the window, oh! no, not that-a bright light,
bright. bright! There it was again-how her
feet lagged-pulled back-she slipped-one step
more-ah. how heavy she grew-One step-One;
long breath-her head dropped on her should
er and the last bridge was crossed
They found her in the morning sitting in the
closed doorway Of the old church.
The editor OF the Weekly GropetOoon Gazette
made the most Of his opportunity and every
body said it was pathetic reading when he told
how the pure and gentle hands of good women
had dressed that poor body for the grave and
put flowers in the hands that were crossed on
her breast. And how the minister preached
next Sunday from the text, 'Judge not that We
be not judged" and how it moved every body to
tears.
Lower down in the column that finished the
story was this notice.
1.-The women of the First Congregational
church. In this town, have undertaken for a
year the education and care Of an orphan In
Japan"
And below, this
"The notorious den known as THE Crows
Nest was the scene OF a terrible fight on Thurs
day night. The men escaped but two women
were arrested and spent the night In the lock-
up and paid their fines In the morning to Mr.
Blank, justice OF the peace. "-Sprt'aateld Repab-