Millheim Journal. [volume] (Millheim, Pa.) 1876-1984, 1881-02-03

| IOunu loving WltC III lnC uCpti5 VI lhiE-
ery-the other that she had regained "a fond
! husband at o moment of all others when
she most needed his aid, counsel, love and
support.
"Come," whispered my friend, touching
my arm, "let us withdraw; their meeting
should be sacred from the intrusion OF
strangers"
Though deeply curious 10 know some
thing OF their history, | silently acquiesceI
in his proposal; and quietly departing, re-
turned 10 our hotel, muslng upon the un-
certainties, vlclssitndes and romance of
life.
Two days after, as was sitting on the
piazza of the hotel saw the sailor passing
along the street, and curiosity prompted
me TO address him. The moment he saw
me he came bounding up, grasped my hand,
and burst into tears.
''God bless you'll he exclaimed ina chok-
ing voice; "G0d bless you and your friend!
and so says Mary. I've been hunting you
oil over the city, sir, but feared I'd never
see you again. Here, let me pay you back
your money and will you be 80 kind, sir,
as TO accept these two rings for yourself
and friend2'
took the money-for | saw if | did not
he would feel very much hurt; but fearing
his circumstances might not justify him III
making present OF 30 much vPlue, / at
tempted TO decline the rings. Itwas of no
use-he would take no denial-and SO re-
luctantly accepted them, thanking him III
behalf of NV friend, who was absent.
then drew from him his story, which will
give in a few words
he and his vile were both natives of a
small village on the Chesapeake, and had
often played together as children. his own
father was in good circums ances. but sub
sequently lost his property and died soon
after, leaving himself and mother 10 strug-
gle along rs best they might.
Among those believed to be friends In
prosperity, but who forsook them in ad-
versity, was the father of his present wife;
but though change of fortune separated the
youth and maiden, IL only increased an at
tachment which had begun in childhood.
For years, however, they did not meet;
and during that time the narrator became
a sailor, and acquired sufficient means TO
purchase cottage for his mother, leaving
small balance on mortgage, which his next
voyage was 10 clear oil. While at home
he and his Mary again met, and discovering
a mutual passion and knowing her parents
would not consent 10 the union, bnt were
most anxious TO ally her to o wealthy sui
tor, they took advantage OF the opportunI-
ty, and were privately narried.
Charles Delaine, for such was his name,
then took leave of his wife, and shipped for
q whaling voyage, intending 1t should be
his last cruise. While absent, his wife's
parents, discovering the secret Of her mar
riage, disowned and drove har forth, and
she took refuge with his mother.
Together the widowed mother and wife
struRgled along -botl. anxiausly looking for
the return OF their only friSnd: hnt ha g., :,
not at the time expected, the mortgage was
toreclosed, the property sold, and, almost
penniless, they repaired 10 Baltimore, hop
Ing TO be able 10 maintain themselves by
the needle.
need not prolong the story-it Is an old
tale. Sickness ana misfortune followed
them; they failed to procure suttcien.
work for their necessities, and on the night
when the wife appealed TO us, they were
in a starving condition. Charles had just
returned from his cruise; aad at the very
moment when his Mary so unexpectedly
met him, he was thinking OF home, which
lie expected TO reach the next day. de had
been prudent; the voyage had been more
than usually profitable, and his share, he
said, would enable him TO start in business.
"Come what will, he concluded, IN
never leave my dear mother and Mary again
whilewe live. They're happy now, thank
God, anu it shall be the aim OF my life TO
keep them SC"
be urged me to come and see him and
his now happy family, and bring my friend;
and then invoking upon us the blessings of
heaven, he wrung my hand and turned
quickly away 10 conceal the emotions he
cared not to display.
'tAh! such is lite, in this world of sell
fish and unselfsh humanity" unused /, as
watched his retreating footsteps, till q
turn in street concealed him from my
view. We never met again.