The Manchester journal. [volume] (Manchester, Vt.) 1861-current, 1882-08-17

Yes | do; I want you. You won't &c
will ,oui Ny voice sounded very anriou'
in its weakness.
Not without mother calls me Nov 60
TO sleep
She settled the whit. coverlet about me
very carefully.
How Gid you get me here asked
presently.
\ One Of the station men helped me; aud
you were terribly heavy, II you hadnt
had anything TO cat
Ilay back on my PILLOW aud watched
her sitting there in the stiffness OF the
room. II was a picture sweet enough for
any msn---more than that TO me, for | had
scarcely spoken TO q woman for long
year excepting to receive harsh answers.
The sun that came streaming into the
window. piercing here and there the net
work OF vines. went slowly down, casting
long shadows across the Aoor, and fell
asleep.
How those two women did watch over
and care for me during the days that fol.
lowed-days in which got better very
slow-the old gray. headed. matronly
mother and her little girl What delight
fnl, dainty little meals they cooked me
with their own hands And then one
would fan and talk with me in the long
summer afternoons.
One day, when the mother was out, ]
told my little nurse my whole history
concealing nothing, and watching the
changing emotions Of her face.
You have told me every thing but your
name she said. when finished.
That is simple enough. replied. Twas
sitting up now. in the great old-fashioned
rocking chair. 1t is George Gray. And
yours?
Florence. O'Neil. My father was killed
ON the railroad several years ago and the
company gave us this house and we
watch to flag the trains If the bridge
should not be safe; the water in the river
rises very high sometimes.
She said it all very simply as il such
life was old and common enough to her
The daughter OF a railroad laborer and
loved her and was only tramp.
Not very elevated, you think. Perhaps
not, in the social scale, but our hearts
might be as true, our love as great
In the days which followed and their
tender care, grew rapidly better, until at
last l could frame no excuse for remain
ing longer But nothing could tear me
away from the girl who had saved my life
whom knew but too we'll ! loved.
never said one word OF love to her for
| was only tramp, and my love was too
sincere, to give its object needoless pain.
Deep in my heart had reslved to work
mp to something more worthy Of her, more
worthy Of myself. But, meanwhile,
should not altogether leave her, and finally
through their influence with the men up
IN the road, men who had worked with ,
)'Neil, / received position. II was only
hat ofa brakeman upon the night cx-
press. Not much, you think. Perhaps
lot TO you, my scofling friend, with your
redt at the bank, but it was everything
o me. 1t was my first step upward. aud l
relieve was prouder in that brakeman's ]
ap than ever was in my first gold and .
lack law sign in the old day OF my pro- q
ligacy and my profession. u
ran on that road--it WAS the p. ID. and
i.--for nearly two months, making every
light the trip between Plattsmouth and
Denver, rain or shine. q
Now and then ofa Sunday wonld go
own to the cottage Of 1.-THE O'Neils and /,
hus spend many pleasant afternoon in !,
alking over the events OF sickness with the :
,other or wandering down by the river n
18th Florence. my little love. l began to
ream that she loved, me. and it made me
etter man. .
One night think it was OF a Wednes- =,
awe made up our train, an unusually
Irge one, and left Plattsmouth just before !"
ark. II had been storming hard for two p
ays. and it bid fair to be stormy night. -
special freight train left All hour ahead :. !,
us, which we were to pass at Somerset. p"
The night as it grew later, proved to be
ne of the toughest had ever experience
I. The wind blew perfect hurricane
ON the north. the glare OF the lightning
as incessant, and heavy peals of thunder
,lled along the sky.
Watch sharp for red light ut bridge 10
0. 2, l heard tue train master say to the h'
igineer Of the freight train, AS his heavy 50
ain pulled out Of the yard. III
Bridge No. 2 was the one close by the ~
'Neils long one over the river was ". :.
st this side, and known as No. their ~
tile cottage was nestled in the thick woods
,tween the two. A'
just how it happened ! suppose no one 20 20
lactly knows, but it, seemed that bridge
o 2 had been swept away by the fury oi :,
10 storm. and the red lantern, placed by i,
Ireful hands to stop the advancing train,
I'd gone out in the terrible gale. The
savy freight, propelled down the steep W
.ade between the two bridges by its own W
eight, pushed with sharp scream bt
! the little cottage and took the Ia
rrible plunge into the sir. down 80 feet to kt
70 rocks below. fu
When saw il, early theneXt morning, Je
o wreck was complete with the dead ra
angled bodies Of the train.men wedged oi
to the water and crushed down by the &c
savy timber. M
And our train you ask. by
Well. III tell you all about that as it was 70
IA IN ma Vi