The Iowa plain dealer. [volume] (New Oregon, Howard County, Iowa) 1867-1895, 1881-06-16

that her husband was in danger, and
forgetful Of all else, flew toward him
She cared nothing for the jcers Of the
mob; before them all she flung her arm.
about him and interposed .her beautiful
Tho head that had carried itself little
proudly in the presence Of the highest ol
the land--that had seemed more queen.
like than that Of the Empress herself al
the court Of France-that had awakened
the envy Of titled English women when
the young American woman dwell
among them--tlropped itself low upon
the bosom Of the drunken wretch who
was the jeer and scorn Of low mob, and
only in love and pity, not in anger, did
she speak to him:
''Come home, Edwardl They'll hurt
you. my poor love! come home with me. y
Mad m he was-fllled with the demon
of drink, to the exclusion OF the soul
God had given him-the soft, sweet
voice, the fond touch Of the white fingers.
awakened some memory = ~ past in
the mans bseast.
'.Go You home, girlr he whispered,
I'll kill them? Don't fret. I'll kill
'em. and"
Come home, darling" she whispered
again, and he stopped and gave her a
kiss. At that the boys yelled derisively,
and flung more mud and stones at them.
One threw stone--a heavy stone, sharp
pointed and jagged. Whether he ever
intended to strike the man is doubtful.
but the missile flew fiercely through the
mir and crashed against the golden head
Of the devoted wife. A stream of blood
gushed from the white temple and poured
down upon the bosom where it dropped
never to lift itself again--never. never
more. Only with quivering shudder
Of pain She felt for the face Of the man
who had sworn to love and cherish her,
and had broken that vow 50 utterly
while hers had been SO truly kept.
"Gool-by. Edward she whispered.
II can't see you now-kiss me. Oh, be
good to baby! BE good to baby!' and
no word more.
The crowd was hushed to silence. A
soberel man bent over the dead woman,
whose hands had dropped away from his
breast, and the love and truth and ten
derness Of her heart were all manifest to
him in that terrible moment-manifest
in vain, for repentance could not restore
her to life, nor blot out the love which
had crushed her heart through all those
weary days Of her sad married life.
"What is the matter here?' cried
voice, as portly man forced his way
through the crowd. a woman hurt?'
a woman killed. said the policeman,
land that brute is the cause Of al, and
the gentleman bent forward and started
back with cry of anguish.
1T is Ruth !" he said. MY Ruth"
and fell back into the policeman's arms
in ,leathlike swoon. Forgiveness and
repentance had come alike too late for
poor Ruth Holly. Her father could give
her nothing hut a grave.
The child born amidst want and PEN
ury, nourished by half-starving mother,
pined away and died in the luxurious
home to which its grandfather bore it |;
and now, rs the old man sits alone in his
splendid home. he sometimes hears q
strange, wild cry in the streets outside,
through which drunken creature reels
and staggers, bowling ever and anon,
Ruth Ruth! Ruth!
It is Edward Holly, who ever in his
drunken madness searches for his muir
dered wife. 1t is the pitiful, horrible,
rt-breaking wreck Of the once splen-
didly-heautifnl man Of talent, who had
only ono fault-Mdyy Kyle Dallas.