The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1881-07-20

honestly believe she would have frozen to
death il she had been left In the cold station
until the way train could call for her. And
when had left her safe in charge other aunt
| saw by the old kitchen time-piece that it
was ten o clock.
''Polly will think have slipped back into
the Slough of Despond," said to myself,
with half smile; "but III give her an
agreeable surprise /"
Flowing down amid the snow drift through
a grove of pine trees that edged ravine at
the back of my house, sprang lightly on the
doorstep the door was shut and locked. l
went around to the front. Here effected an
entrance, but the fire was dying on the hearth,
and little BERTHE, tucked up in his crib, called
out
"Papa, is that youp"
.Where is mamma, my son 9'' said look
ing eagerly around at the desolate room.
'Gone out with the baby in her arms to
look for you," he said. "Didn't you meet
her, papa?"
l stood minute in silence.
'Lie STILL Bertie," said /, in voice that
Il win go and bring her back"
And | thought, with dismay, of the blind
ing snow storm outside, the treacherous gorges
which lay between there and the White Black
bird, the trackless woods through which it
was difficult enough to find ones way even
in the sunshine of MONDAY, and--worst of all
the lonely track, across which an express"
shot like a meteor at q few minutes before
midnight. Oh, heaven what possible doom
might not have brought upon myself by the
wretched passion in which had gone away
that morning.
The town clock, sounding dim and mufied
through the storm, struck eleven as hurried
down the hill. Eleven--and who knows what
a length of time might elapse before l could
find here And like fiery phantasmagoria
before my minds eye, l beheld the wild rush
of the midnight express, and dreaded--I
knew not what. For all that could realize
was that the storm was growing fiercer with
every moment, and Polly and the baby were
ont in its fury
AS steady as I could, l worked my way
down toward the track, but more than once
| became bewildered, and had to stop and re-
fleet before l could resume my quest. And
when, at length, came out close to ruined
wood and water station on the edge of the
track, knew that l was full half mile be-
low the White Blackblrd.
And in the distance heard the long, shrill
shrek of the midnight train.
Some one else had heard it, too, for as
stood thus saw. family visible Through thu
binding snow, a shadowy figure issue from
the ruined shed and come out upon the track,
looking with bewildercd unce.tan air up
and down-the form of Polly, my wife, and
| heard the train coming with a rush
and rattle that nearly took my breath
away.
"Polly ?" cried, "Polly speak to mer'
She turned her wandering gaze toward me,
with her vague eyes that seemed scarcely to
recognize me.
s'Have you seen my husband ?" said she !;
"One Jacob Cotterel, brakeman on the local
express ?"
"Polly little woman don't you know
me 9' gasped.
sand / thought, perhaps" she added, va
cantly, "you might have met him. It's very
cold here, and-and-"
And then she tainted in my arms.
The long, long brain fever that followed
was sort of death. There was time when
they told me she would never know me again,
but, thank God, she did. She recovered at
last Aud since that night never have tast-
ed drop of liquor, and, please heaven, |
never will again. The baby, bless its dear
little heart, wasn't harmed at all. 1t lay snug
and warm on its mothers breast all the while.
But if hadn't happened to be close by them
at that instant the night express would have
ground them into powder.
And the white stripe came into my hair mp
on the night of that fearful snow storm.
That's how it happened, sir