The Newtown bee., 1880-10-27

over the wall to see from whom it came. UnconscIously he had reached the viii lage graveyard, lonely spot by the shore, only distinguished from the sur rounding marshes by 8 few rude head stones and rugged wooden crosses, and row upon row of new-made graves. By one Ot them woman was kneeling. scratching with both feeble hands at a small fresh mound of earth, while now ana again low moan burst from her lips She was Ill, weak, emaeiated, and the doctor recognized her as woman who had suffered severely-recovering as by miracle, having lost her husband and five children. Three days before he had seen her with an infant in her arms, the only living thing left her.; now it lay beneath the ragged cloak, the last of < all her flock
 I Naulting over the low wall, the doc- tor approached her gently.
 My good woman, what are you do- 1 ing herep" he whispered, laying his hand on her shoulder.
 Let me bury my dead" she cried, fiercely, pointing to her cloak. ''Go away, and leave me with my people,"
 No, no-let me-" and taking spade that lay near, he aug grave, and rev erently placed the tiny form, wrapped in it's mothers cloak, in it.; then he cov- cred it over hurriedly, and taking the wretched mother by the arm, led her from the spot.
 Heaven forever bless you, sir," she said, bursting into tears, as she took last look at the little grave. "Now am indeed alone, the last of my name and race--father, mother, husband, children, friends, all gone," and she sank down by the open gateway, and refused to move further. Let me die | e15I. 5 E,n ,s1I. l. J loved ones. What have I done that the Almighty should leave meP"
 Siat at heart the doctor turned away. Such scenes had not been uncommon in Millbay z ring the preceding month, but he rad never witnessed anything like It, and the horror of. it was on bis mind during the weary weeks that fol- | lowed for he, too, was seized with the frightful illness, stricken down as with 8 sudden blow. For weeks he lay hover ing between life and death, and when he awoke to consciousness the first faco he saw bending over him was that of the roor mother he had seen before his illness. Day and night she had tended
 him with unceasing care, and seemed to forget her own illness and sorrow in watching over him. It was the end of
 August when he was taken ill, 1t was the middle of October before he was able to creep teebly out of doors and sit in the sunshine. Once only had he looked in a mirror, and then the reiec- tion of his scanned, scared, livid faca staggered him. On no one had the disease made such fearful ravages; yet not 8 soul who survived in the village of Millbay but blessed every seam, and reverenced every purple scar, and found a beauty in them that might be coveted
 by an angel. Surely it was their prayers and blessings, their looks of love and
 tears of gratitude, that reconciled him at last to his terribly altered appear ance. "Ifmy love was hopeless before,
 4g it1s dRHblv s9D Dq3 Dnq3qwn he @ said to himself
 wonder, of q pocz mocked heroP and yet it was all wisely ordained. My duty fay straight before me, however it may end for me-"
 It was Christmas before the doctor thought it perfectly safe to return to his cottage it Broadbay. His own had been the Inst case of the disease in Millbay ,and
 all signs of in lection had long since dis appeared. He had recovered his strength,
 too, his step was as light and free as of
 old, his voice as cheery, his smile as
 genial; but the deep discolored scars
 were still on his face, indelibly printed
 there, and 1t was only those to whom he
 had ministered in their sore need that
 saw a radiant beauty in them. For him.
 self, he had almost forgotten them.
 What was scar or two on his face to the deep, deep, sore scars on his heartf Who would care q jot whether a poor solitary country doctor was ugly or the , reverse? Snch were his thoughts as he ! drove up to his cottage, with Mrs Nor ton, the poor solitary widow, beside him , She insisted on following him and seIv' ing him, and she was so utterly alone that he had not the heart to say her nay A blue line of smoke curled from the [ chimneys, & cheery glow Of fireligh1
 danced on the wlndow-panes, the dool E stood hospitaby open, to his unboundeo surprise.
 sAh! this is like coming home. Wha
 good fairy has been at work, wonder, , he said, stepping into the light ans ] warmth.
 t "Madgie! oh, my darling, is it indeed :. youP" "Me, Philp Why of course, who els' t should it bep" Then drawing closer
 "Dear Phil, can you forgive mep" ? ssForgive you, Madgie?" he said :, huskily, < forgive you whatF" : My folly. I'm wiser now, Phil. ant
 I think I know the value of the treasur r I once despised."
 : "Come nearer to the light, Madgie | stuu lOOk at Iut. | III 1SSo ihC hCl' c than everp
 y .Phil, I wouldn't have one of thes s changed" :" and she laid her hand lightl. y on his cheek. "I would not give on > unsightly scar for the cross of the legiol y of honor. You are the hero of my hear 's now; long ago I wanted the hero of m, IS fancy and imagination. Forgive me
 Phil, and let us forget all my tolly, 10 e I'm heartily ashamed of it."
 l! Just then the bells of Broadly churcl
 rang out a joyous peal, and friend e gathered ronnd to welcome back tn Il doctor and wiring his hand heartily e looking the praises they could no
 speak. To go forth bravely in searcl 2, of honor, and return victorious, is 7. great thing; to go forth and bray le death at the cail of duty is 8 good thing 5. And as Phil Bentick glanced round a ], the kindly faces about him, he felt h y had his full reward.
 ]. A few weeks after, Madgie and Ph I were married; and when Nelli It Grahame came to pay her long promise B visit in the summer, and heard by dt le grees the whole story, she was forced t Il admit that Madgie's hero was a res Ss hero after all, and one whose :" lik ?; we do not meet with every day. lg ---