The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1881-11-23

SATISFY nv wire, Tor am Ike JONI, dHO
won't believe in Laddie), when, sud.
denly, | hear a shout in front of me,
and see Donald, who has all the time
been keeping close to Laddie, drop on
his knees, and begin digging wildly in
the snow with his hands. We all rush
forward Laddie has stopped at what
appears to be the foot of stunted tree,
and, after scratching and whining fof
a moment, sits down and watches, leav-
ing the balance to US. What is it that
appears when we have shoyelled away
the snow? a dark object. Is ita bun
die of rags? Is it-or, alas was it-a
human being? We raise it carefully
and tenderly, and wrap it in one Of the
warm blankets with which my wife's
forethought had provided US.
bring me the lantern" )" | say huski-
", and John holds it over the PROSTATE
form of, not as we might have expected,
some stalwart shepherd of the hills,
but over that of a poor, shrivelled,
wrinkled, ragged old woman. | try to
pour little brandy down the poor old
throat, but the teeth are so firmly
clinched that cannot.
''Get her home as quickly as may be,
sir; the mistress will know better what
to do for her nor we do, if so be the
poor creature is not past help" says
John, turning instinctively, as We all
do in sickness or trouble, to woman's
aid
So we improvise a sort of hammock
of the blankets, and gently and tender
ly the men prepare to carry their poor,
helpless burden over the snow.
II am afraid your mistress will be in
bed," 1 say, as we begin to retrace our
steps; NJ
triumphant glance at John; "the
mistress will be up and waiting for us.
She ken Laddie dinna bring US out in
the snaw for naething."
"TIl never say naught about believ.
ing dog again" says John, gracefully
striking his colors. ''You were right
and l was wrong; but to think there
should be such sense in an animal passes
me-"
As we reach the avenue gate | dis
patch one of the men for the doctor,
who fortunately lives within stones
throw of us, and hurry on myself to
prepare my wife for what is coming.
She runs out into the hall to meet me.
"Well?" she asks eagerly.
"We have found a poor old woman,
saw: "but [ do not know whether she
is alive or dead. "
NY wife throws her arms around me
and gives me great hug.
"You will find dry things and jug
Of hot toddy in your dressing-room,
DEAR" she says; and this is the re-
venge she takes on me for my scepti-
cism. The poor old woman is carried
up stairs and placed in a warm bath
under my wife's direction and before
the doctor arrives she has shown some
faint symptoms of life; SO my wife
sends me word. DR.. Bruce shakes his
head when he sees her. "Poor old soul,
he says, chow came she out on such a
fearful night? l doubt she has received
shock which, o. her age, she will not
easily get over"
They manage, however, to force g
few spoonfuls Of hot brandy and water
down her throat, and presently faint
color fickers on her cheek, and the pool
old eyelids begin to tremble. My wife
raises her head and makes her swallow
some cordial which DR.. Bruce ha
brought with him, and lays her bacl
/ Al.
81 think she will rally now" say
DIR. Bruce, as her breathing become
more regular and audible "Nourish
ment and warmth will do the rest; bu
she has received a shock from which,
fear, she will never recover" And 81
saying, he takes his leave.
| By-and-by l go up to the room, AM
find my wife watching alone by tn
aged sufferer. She looks up at me wit
tears in her eyes. "Poor old soul, sh
SAYS, 81 am afraid she will not rail-
from the cold and exposure.
| l go round to the other side of tn
bed and look down upon her. The age
face looks wan and pinched, and tn
scanty gray locks which lie on the pi
low are still wet from the snow. Sh
is very little woman, as far as l ca
liudoe of her in her recumbent position
and | should think must have reache
her allotted threescore years and ten.
"Who can she be ?" | repeat, wonder
ingly. ''She does not belong to any {
the villages hereabouts, or we shoul
know her face, and | cannot imagin
what could bring a stranger to the moo
on such a night.
As speak change passes over he
, face the eyes unclose, and she lool
inquiringIy about her. She tries
speak, but is evidently too weak. M
wife raises her and gives her spoonfl
of nourishment, while she says, sootl
ingly, ''Don't try to speak. You al
among friends, and when you are be
f ter you shall tell me all about yoursel
: Lie still now, and try to sleep.
4 The gray head drops back YEARLY
the pillow and soon We have the sati
! faction of hearing, by the regular resi-
t ration, that our patient is asleep.
a "You must come to bed, now Jessie
: l say. Il shall ring for Mary, and s.
can sit up for the remainder of t
e night.
t But nv wife who is a tender-heart
soul and born nurse, will not desc
Y her post so | leave her watching, a.
retire to my solitary chamber.
: When we met in the morning | ii
0 that the little woman has spoken fl
IS words, and seems stronger. "Come
{ with me now, says my wife, "and let
q try tofnd out who she is" We Fl
d her propped into a reclining Postu
: with pillows, and Mary beside her fee
ing her.
a HHow are you nowT asked Jess
e bending over her.
IS "Beetter, much better, thank 20
It good lady" she says in a voice whi
v trembles from age as well as weakness;
d "And very grateful to you for yo
b goodness.
Ie Ihear at once BY the accent that s
is English. Are you strong enouI
d to tell me how you got lost on the mo
3 and where you come from and whe
it YOU are going ?" continued my wife.
10 sAh I was going to my lad, my po
n lad, and now I doubt ! shall never
d him more, says the poor soul, with
long sigh of Weariness.
ETyKyE Z. ,v-.,,, lad and how far ha