The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1881-11-03
IFrom the Living Age.l
MY FAITHFUL JOHNNY.
CHAPTER ".

i L
now-now that once more things have
begun to happen, and all the peaceful
children who cost me nothing but
pleasant cares have grown up and are
setting forth, each with his or hel
more serious complications, into indi-
vidual life-it seems to me like long
howery plain Of peace. [ did not
think so then, and no doubt from
time to time questions arose that were
hard to answer, and difficulties that
cost me painful thought. But now
all seems to me a sort of heavenly
monotony and calm, turning years
into days. In this gentle domestic
quiet six months went by like an af-
ternoon, for it was, [ think, about six
months after the first meeting [ have
just described when Ellen Harwood
rushed in one morning with scared
face to tell me Of something which
had occurred and which threatened to
break up in a moment the quiet of
her life. Mr.. Ridgway had come
again various times-we had daily in
tercourse at the window, where, when
he passed, he always looked up now,
and where | seldom failed to see him
and give him friendly greeting.
This intercourse, though it was so
slight, was also so constant that it
made us very fast friends; and when
Ellen, as [ have said, rushed in very
white and breathless one bright spring
morning, full Of something to tell,
my first feeling was alarm. Had any
! thing haDDened To John?
"Oh, no. Nothing has happened.
At least, | don't suppose you would
say anything had happened-that is,
no harm-except to me, Y Esaid Ellen,
wringing her hands, Except to me!
Oh, do you recollect that first night
he came to see you, when you were SO
kind as to ask him, and | sang that
song he is so fond of? [ took fright
then, [ never could tell how-and
now it looks as if it would all come
true"
"As if what would come true?"
Somebody" said Ellen, sitting
down abruptly in the WEAKNESS of her
detection, somebody from the office is
to go out directly to the Levant. Oh,
Chatty, dear, you that are learning
geography and everything, tell me
where is the Levant? It is where the
currants and raisins come from. The
firm has got an establishment, and it
is likely-oh, it is very likely, they all
think that John, whom they trust so
much-John-will be sent"
She broke off with a SODA gasp.
She was too startled, too much excited
and frightened, to have the relief Of
tears.
"But that would be very good
thing, surely-it would be the very
best thing for him. | don't see any
cause for alarm. Ny dear Ellen, he
would do his work well; he would be
promoted; he would be made part
"AhI She drew a long breath: a
gleam Of wavering light passed over
her face. Il said you would think it
no harm" she said mournfully, mo
harm-except to me-"
1T is on the Mediterranean Sea-"
said Chatty over her atlas, with great
many big round "O's'' of admiration
and wonder, where it is always sum-
mer, always beautiful. Oh, Ellen, |
wish I was you! But you can send US
some oranges" the child added philo-
sophically. Ellen gave her a rapid
glance of mingled fondness and wrath.
You think Of nothing but Or
anges!" she cried (quite unjustly, |
must say), then putting her hands to-
gether and fixing her wistful eyes up
on me, Il feel" She said in the same
breath, "as if the world were coming
to an end"
"You mean it is just about begin
ning-for Of course he will not go
without you-and that is the very
best thing that could happen
"Oh, how can you say SO? 1t cam
not happen; it is the end Of every
thing" Ellen cried, and I could not
console her. She would do nothing
but wiring her hands, and repeat her
plant, 1T is the end of everything"
Poor girl, apart from John, her life
was dreary enough, though she had
never felt 1t dreary. Music lessons in
the morning, and after that continual
attendance upon an exacting, fiery in
valid. The only break in her round
Of duty had been her evening hours,
her little walk and talk with John.
No wonder that the thought Of Johns
departure filled her with a terror for
which she could scarcely find words.
And she never took into account the
other side Of the question, the solu-
ton which seemed to me so certain,
so inevitable. She knew better-that,
at least, whatever other way might be
found out of it, could not be.
Next day i'll the evening, when he
was going home, John himself paused
as he was passing the window, and
looked up with sort of appeal. an
swered by beckoning to him to come
in, and he obeyed the summons very
rapidly and eagerly. The spring days
had drawn out, and it was now quite
light when John came home. He
came in and sat down beside me, in the
large, square, projecting window
which was my favorite place. There
was a mingled air of eagerness and
WEAKNESS about him, as if, though ex-
cited by the new prospect which was
opening before him, he was yet alarm
ed by the obstacles in his way, and re.
luctant, as Ellen herself was, to dis
turb the present peaceful conditions
of their life. Il do not believe" h,
said, "that they will ever consent.
don't know how we are to struggl'
against them. People of their ag'
have SO much stronger wills than w
3 have. They stand to what they want
- and they have it, reason or no reason.
''That is because you give III; yoI
do not stand to what you want,
said. He looked away beyond me int