Litchfield enquirer., 1881-03-10

bitterly, Alice Southworth stirred it with the toe of her satin shoe-it crumbled beneath the touch, and. caught by one of the draughts ed dying through the room, flew in a cloud of black flakes up the chimney and was gone. !.
 ''So best-so best Smoke and ashes, and the last trace blown to the four winds ;-So let it be-"
 And thus unconscisusly echoing the words in which William Bradford had sealed his be- trothal, Alice Southworth closed, as she thought forever, the sweetest chapter in her book of life, and turned to the new duties and new ties she had voluntarily if rashly as- sumed. -
 1V.-PMGRIMs. a 4
 ''And you will sail with those others in the Mayhower, Master Bradford ?" said Elder Carpenter, glancing keenly at the young man, who sat looking gloomlly from the latticed window of the little Dutch ale house, where they had met for noontide refreshment. moodilY. T3.-. -
 ''And your wife and the little one ?"
 'They will remain behind-I think"
 'Does the dame consent to be so desert ed ?" .i v '-,-fs.. y l. ",
 "We have not yet spoken of it. She can remain with her mother, and come to me af- terWard, sad the younger man hesitatingly; :; and Elder Carpenter again glanced keenly in- to his perturbed face. l.'.. f.'..;.' ..I.
 'It is a grievous burden to my spirit" said he, after pause, "that am denied this means of testifying to my faith. Were it only mIne ewn infirmities and inconvenience that stood in the road, would count it naught, though I perished by the way; but must not burden you younger men with the charge of one who can at best serve but Slittle purpose in the life you enter upon, and would most likely be- come serious charge and trial. Nor can bear to abide here longer, or to lay my bones in foreign soi My night approaches, and I will getme to mine own land and sleep where my fathers sleep" .. ..t. ' ,~.
 You will return into England p asked Bradford, in some surprise.
 ''Yes. This ship has brought me letters from my daughter, Mistress Southworth. She has met with heavy afliction in the loss of her good husbands and she prays me very ear nestly to return to her, l and my daughter Mary and abide beneath her roof the rest of my days"
 Master Edward Southwortb dead !" echoed Bradford, blankly.
 'The Lord has willed it so, replied the el- der reverently. s
 'And Alice 6 widow!"
 ''Ihe widowed mother of two little children. Truly she needs fathers counsel and assist ance, unused the old man, and, lost in reve rie, he did not perceive that with his last words William Bradford had left the room
 Deep Tn that evenings twilight, as Dorothy sat flushing her child to sleep with the mur- mured cadence of hymn some one entered the room and laid two hands upon her shoul- ders from behind
 ''Is it you. William?" asked the young mother, softly.
 "Yes, wife. I shall sail with the first par ty of adventurers in the Mayfower. Willyou go with me ?"
 "Why, this is something more than sud- den!" exclaimed Dorothy, trying to turn her face toward'her husband, who resisted her at- tempt, and only repeated: =
 "Will you go with me wife?" 1''
 ''Where you go will go, you know full well, was the meek response ''But why have you not told me your will before, that might have made preparation?"
 ''I did not know it myself; and thought if went you and the child would bide awhile with our good mother here. But if you will go, Dorothy, it will be singular favor to me.">
 And now the wife would not be restrained, but rising hastily, confronted her husband with looks of undisguised amazement
 "A singular favor to you!" repeated she .Why. what words are these from you to me, William Am not your own true and lov- ing wife, no less bound to obey your lightest wish than anxious to lay down my life, if so I might please you? Why, had you waited un- til our friends were embarking at Delft Haven and then said to me, Up and follow them do you think 1 would have faltered And had you tried to go without me, William, would have thrown myself at your feet and wept and prayed and importuned until you gave con- sent to my accompanying you. Dear husband, what have done amiss that you should have entertained thls cruel thought of leaving me?"
 She was weeping now, and cllnging about his neck, so that she could not see the ashen face and haggard eyes he bowed above her, as, gently removing those clinglng arms he said ::
 "Naught amiss, naught amiss, Dorothy You have ever been as you promised to be, a true, faithful, and most loving wife, Mine is all the blame, mine should be the punish ment"
 "What blame what punishment? What do your words mean, dear William? And what makes you look so wan and distraught Have you bad news from England ?-they told me that ship was arrived with letters"
 "Peace, woman, peace The wife should not to curiously pry into her husbands will, but accept it unquestioned, for is he not her head and law ?"
 And with a laugh of bitterest self.contempt William Bradford left the room and the house.
 The next day, when Dorothy. his wife, went abroad to consult her gossips about the needful preparation for the voyage, and the new life before her, and heard of the news of Edward Southworth's death, she clasped her bands of sudden above her heart, and cried out as if in sharpest pain. ....
 'Dear child, what is it?-what ails you ? exclaimed her friend, running to her.
 ''Nothing, nothing! A sudden .pang-I know not what-as if ones heart broke but hearts do not break in sober truth. do they ?"
 ''No, not so suddenly as that, nor yet with out cause, and we all know you have none Mistress Dorothy" said the other, sharply eyeing the pallid face and trembling form of the young woman.
 ''Not whenI am leaving my mother and my little child and may never see either again ?" asked Dorothy, bursting into tears, and making her escape.
 And that day she began to die
 V.-DoRoTHY BRADFoRD's JOURNAL.
 In the month of August, 1920, the May flower sailed from Delft Haven for England. and some weeks later from thence for-God alone knew where.
 Let him who would know what human courage and human fortitude, combined with high faith a2d confidence almost more than human. are capable of, let him read the rec ord of that voyage, as told in Bradford's own and simple and earnest record, SO self forget ful and so unconscious of it's own importance that the only fault of the history is that it omits all notice of the historian except in the vaguest ,allusion.
 Had not other papers remained some pre-. cious letters, and a few leaves of a private diary inthe faint and timid manuscript of a woman this story had never been written, or had been based upon mere imaginngs, in- stead of saddest and most, undoubted fact. .,; .
 Let'us here transcribe one of these frag- mentary leaves. literally, except for the mod ernizing of some absolute phrases and the sup plying of some words ilegible from time and wear:
 At last, praise be to God we lie within sight of land, hut what a land! Stern rocks, NuYft h oSyna Iont .k