Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1881-05-20

all my life there would be nothing for
mo but the memory of q white stone in
n church-yard the grave where would
lay my broken lily.
| Up and down paced, up and down
in tho blazing sun, till the very sound
of my own footsteps on the tagged plat
form seemed to be driving me mad. At
last stopped, and, pushing back my
hat, pressed both hands to my aching,
throbbing head. | would not think
What was the use of thinkingp Nelly
was dead, and was going back to her
funeral. shut my eyes and tried not
to soc the white face with the awful
look of agony imprinted on IL; but II
was of no use. saw it yet-the hor-
ror-stricken face, the arms stretched
out for the help that never came. oh,
could live with the memory of that
sight to haunt meP
The time crept on slowly; every min
ute seemed to bean hour, and the hands
of my watch appeared scarcely to move.
The heat was dreadful. There was no
shade-nothing but the dazzling sun,
which was now high in the heavens;
but still walked backward and for
ward, unable to rest, trying to keep
calm outwardly, to withstand the awful
temptation that would come again and
again when contemplated my lonely,
heart-broken future. Would one o clock
never Gomez
Suddenly caught sight of the poor
little bunch of flowers that Nelly had
given me--her last thoughtful, loving
act. 1 broke down then. Hot tears
rushed to my eyes; and, leaning my
arms on the low wall bounding the
station, gave way entirely. kissing the
unconscious flowers passonately, and
realizing how much l had loved and
priced the treasure had lost, while the
mercless sun shone down hotter and
fiercer, scorching and drying up every
thing.
With swelling heart l placed the
fading flowers carefully in my pocket
book and then, lest any one should see
my emotion, drew my hat low down
over my forehead and resumed my soli-
envying Nelly, who was at rest. Her
agony was only for moment, while
mine would be for years and years--as
long as lived.
A quarter to one. The train would
soon be in. Those last fifteen minutes
were the longest of all; time seemed to
|
afar off the rumble of the coming train.
The station began to get little more
animated, and then the long cattle-
train appeared In sight and drew up
slowly at the station. ! went up to the
engine-driver.
'Here is sovereign. Will you let
me go on the engine as far us Morleyp"
Jump up. sir, and welcomer' was
his prompt reply.
1t seemed as though they never in
tended TO start that train. l thought
they would never stop shunting wagons
: and running the engine up and down.
!, 1t seemed as if we were an hour wait
, ing; but at last the train glided slowly
away; and soon l had seen the last o
the hateful station where three of the
most miserable, the blackest hours o
, my life were spent.
The cool air tanning my brow calmet
8 me. Motion was pleasant-anythins
t was better than waiting; and yet tn,
two hours on that engine seemed in
. terminable. But finally we drew neare
Y and nearer to Morley. Afearful fascina
0 tion seemed to attract my eyes to tn,
t fatal spot. Setting my teeth, looked
: long and steadily at the place. A littl
t crowd had collected on the bank. The
i. had found her then, all that o
l Nelly! And kind of faintness cam
over me for moment.
: When alighted at Morley felt tel
2 wears older than when had left it onl,
!, q few hours before. The first thing m,
eyes rested on was the hamper 0
:. plants still standing there; and tn
l sight of them almost unnamed me.
| A gentleman, friend of mine, cam
e up and put his hand on my arm; but
:, breaking away before he could utter
v word, left the station, and walke
hastily along the scorching, dusty road
g scarcely able to drag my limbs along
! and wishing could just lie down an
it die. Over the little bridge l went, an
y across the lawn that we had traverse
y together that morning. The door wa
wide open-the dogs welcomed m
y noisily; but their joyous barking an
/ caresses Jared upon me, and re
q PEELED the animals. In the dining
room found Mr.. Sinclair, the rector
e sitting silently and gravely at the table
ii He started when he saw me, and too
t. both my hands in his without speaking
"Where is sheP" asked, hoarsely
d "Up-stairs," he said, gently. "Bu
you must not give way like this. Cali
u yourself before you go upstairs"
1T The door opened, and Mrs. Sinclai
4, came in, with her face showing th
Il sorrow and pity she felt
"My husband has told you thenP
70 she said.
ID "Yes," 1 answered, bowing m
ut head; 81 am going up to see her.
Slowly went up the stairs, treadin
SO softly, as though feared to wake hi
le from her last slumber. paused wit
u my hand on the handle, and struggle
for calmness, then opened the dot
I'd softly and went in with dreadful fee
le ing of awe and 'strange, hopele
in misery.
Sc The room was darkened, and the su
70 shone softly through the closed ven
lp tans; all was dreadfully still. I'll
le curtains of the bed were drawn, and
paused again ere with trembling har
,e | drew them back. Nerving myself,
;" raised my eyes with an effort, and sa
ur % Heaven, was'I dreamingP Was
as but cruel mockery, delusion, or W
ur it really Nelly lying sleeping calm
and peacefully, with the warm blot
of mantling her cheek and the waves
lie brown hair, damp and wet, pushed {
ey the peaceful browp
With beating heart / bent forwa
n. and, STOPPING, kissed her. Yes-sl
'rt was breathing; my darling was not de;
u after all! The dear eyes opened, and
loving voice said: "Frankl"
y clasped her tightly to my brea:
and felt as though she had been Civ,
at back to me from the dead; then, hol
Ii ing her warm, soft hand in mine, sal
be down upon my knees, and thank
he Heaven for preserving my darling.
did not know how she was saved;
oe was enough for me to know that S
oy was alive, to hear her voice again, al
nd to look into her eyes, which filed wi
S. tears when told her what l had f