The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1880-08-26
drawing round, sweet notes the length
of his bow-'Yes, I'm dogoned sorry,
but she knows mel"
III.

There should have been an answer to
the letter in about two weeks if she was
like other women. But two, yes, three
weeks and more passed by without q
word. The fire died out on our hearth,
as the hot summer came on swiftly, and
was not renewed. March surrounded
US and revealed wonders to the limited
New England experience which barely
becomes acquainted with the sun Of the
extreme Southern States. April came
and, going out into the past, left thirty
perfect days behind. Lower Texas
bedecked in suit of green, not laid on
as a remnant, but with lavishness al
most wasteful, smiled in your face at
first and then laughed aloud, her notes
of joy bubbling from thousand throats.
Animal life, concealed before, crept out
and basked on the glazing stones. The air
was in constant hum, unnoticed by
some, but intense to those whose ears
were attuned to it. The very earth at
our feet seemed to throb with life
It was Just opening May when came
from the postoffice one evening and laid
down before jackson the letter he
had mailed weeks before. It came from
the Dead Letter Office-that morgue OF
SO many hopes-and in the same mail
was a paper from what had been his
home town, together with letters for my
self. He was playing on his violin when
l came In, but stopped at once.
1 do not think that at first he felt SO
deeply sorry that it had miscarried as I
did, but he was perplexed all the even
ing long, and could not understand why
the letter had not reached her. He sat
several hours turning the letter over and
over, noting the different post marks,
but not offering to re-read what he had
written, and evidently trying hard to
grasp the situation fully. He gave
deep sigh at last, and, without getting
up from his chair, laid the letter by,
though still in SIGHT. He then took the
home paper and scanned its meager col
umns carelessly, looking first, as one
aways from his former home does, at the
list of deaths and marriages. They were
few and of no special interest to him !;
but as he glanced over another column,
devoted for the most part to small town.
talk, he must have seen this paragraph,
for he fell forward on his face like one
about to die if not already dead, crush
ing his violin beneath him, its deep
moan joining discordanEly with the
mocking hoot Of the screech- owl far out
In the darkness.
We regret to learn just as we go to press to-
day that Mrs. Henry T. Goodwe1, wife Of our
esteemed townsman Of that name died last
night after q brief illness of three days. The
circumstances Of her death were peculiarly
painful and most distressing. Mrs. Goodwe1
has been married less than year, and will be
remembered by many Of our readers as Miss
Esther Barton, who lived until she was mar
ried at the home Of Thomas jackson, brother
of the late William Jackson, Sr. She was q
lovely woman, and the grim destroyer has in
deed smote heavily. Our heartfelt sympathies
are with the husband In this his dire extremity.
his hour Of trial.
",
Several months later I talked with the
writer of the above lines, in his "sanc-
tum," as he frequently called it. I
found him shrewd Yankee who made
matters to his benefit, and the chest
county. I questioned him some as to
Miss Esther's marriage.
"She'd been goin' with the jackson
you speak of, as you say" he answered.
"But I'd knows there was anythin' be-
G"eou Ineu. y poSIn Luo1S "aSS = "ou-
an can't wait forever for man to spit
it out, and he want much to wait for
anyway. Iguess he was honest ennuff
star as that goes, but no great shakes. !.
as they say here he was always hitch
in on to some one. Besides, Tom
that is, Thomas Jackson-got poor and
hadn't place for her, and in short it
was marry or go among strangers.
Times WAS hard and It had to come to
what it did, though she hesitated-hesi-
tated more'n you could ask, perhaps" +"