Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1881-06-26
WITHIN FOUR INCHES OF HAPPINESS.
THE LOVERS.

THE LOVERS.
They had played together as children
on the banks of the fitful Minnesauken
The stream had both joined them and
parted them again and again. 1t was the
boundary between their homes. His
fathers farm was on the west bank, anc
spread over large tract of rough wooded
hills. Her fathers farm lay along the
eastern bank, and was in every respect
more productive and valuable estate. The
first thing he remembered was the little
girl from the Chase farm who came down
to the shallow summer river to play
among the smooth, round, yellow stones
and brown pools. Her earliest recollec-
tions were of the boy who waded bare
foot through the amber water to meet
her. Then came the school days, when
they went to the red school-house. From
playmates they grew to schoolmates, and
from schoolmates to lovers.
! The Chases were well-tO-do IN the
world, with farm clear of debt and mon
ey in the bank The Lawsons had not
prospered, for the hill farm was poor and
life seemed trife hard to them. For all
| that there was a neighborly friendliness
between them, till one summer day young
Thomas Lawson crossed the Minnesau-
ken, and boldly asked the hand of Laura
Chase. Never was Farmer Chase more
surprised. Had the children really grown
up to manhood and womanhood. ready to
ask and be given in marriage?
He could not consider it for moment.
Laura would have some little property,
and 1t was proper a husband should bring
something more than his two hands and
good intentions. As for any expectations
from the Lawson farm, the father and
mother and many children would need it
all for long time to come.
When the young man crossed the river
that day it had threatened rain; heavy
thunder clouds were now gathering dark
in the west. The stream was low, and
he had leaped from stone to stone and
crossed dry-shod. The storm burst over
the mountain while he was in the house,
and when he started for home it was
raining fast Laura met him on the
damp, dripping piazza, and she saw from
his face that things had gone wrong. She
urged him to stay until the rain ceased,
but he would not. The river, as was
often its fashion, would rise suddenly
and he would not be able to cross She
told him it made no difference in her
heart; and he on his part said he would
go away, win fortune, and come back
and claim her She cried little over it
and said she would wait-years if she
must So it was they parted, and he was
off through the rain toward home.
He was too late. The ftful river was
in passion. The mountains had sent
down sudden flood, and it was impossi-
BILE to cross at the old ford.
ga bridge is needed here. If ever am
rich I'll build one"
The improbable is generally the most
likely thing to happen. AS he said this,
there seemed not the faintest hint or sug-
gestion that bridge would ever be built
between the farms. When boy he had
Now that he was a man there was no
need of even a bridge.
He had to walk down the str cam two
miles, to the town bridge, before he could
cross, and finally reached home drenched
and discouraged and miserable. 1t was
his first disappointment. Would it break
or make him? The family received the
refusal of the son with becoming pride.
They might be poor but they were quite
as good as the proud people over
the river. Some day they might be glad
to accept Thomas Lawson as son. He
had the making of man and fortune in
him, and they should live to see it.
"That's very well, mother" said the
young man, 'sbut for once l wish there
had been a bridge over the river. had
to walk four miles in the rain to get
home''
sMy son, there will never be bridge
between the Chase and Lawson farms"
"Don't say that. mother, for some day
| am going over the river for Laura, and
a bridge would be very convenient for
the procession"
Clearly he had a good spirit. The next
day he announced his intention of leaving
home to seek fortune Thereupon there
were great lamentations, but he only
said:
"Give me a little money that I may
live while l learn trade. Then I'll take
care of myself and Laura, too"
The storm passed quickly, and in day
the capricious river showed gentler
mood. They met upon the bank, and he
dragged down some fence-rails, and laid
them from stone to stone, till he could
cross to her side. Perhaps there was
something prophetic in it, for he said,
'I'll build bridge over every obstacle to
reach you, Laura"
She was greatly pleased, and said she
would wait for him and the bridge. So
it was they parted, he going the next
day to the city, she staying at
home, patient, hopeful, and confident.
Between the families there was little
communication. The seasons seemed to
be always rainy, and the titful Mime
saukon was rarely passable for child or
lover.
THE BRIDGE.
The summer grew to winter, and win
ter changed through spring to summer
again. Once month there came a let
ter. Farmer Chase secretly admired the
young mans spirit in going off to learn
a trade, and permitted the correspond
ence on the condition that not more than
twelve letters came in a year. He little
knew the ingenuity of lovers. Every
letter contained thirty pages. With the
spring had come hint of great changes.
Surveyors had appeared with rod and
chain They had tramped all up and
down the rocky valley of the Minnesauk-
en-, and at last invaded the Chase and
Lawson farms A railroad would cross
that country, and after several weeks of
l