The Columbian. [volume] (Bloomsburg, Pa.) 1866-1910, 1882-08-18


come to this wretched place Will you
do me great favor2'
II will try to; confde in me. What
do you wishY"
"Cut off my hair first please, and
then | will tell you who | am"
Mrs. Currier took the scissors from
the stand and gathered up the rich
tresses. Her eyes filed with tears; she
hesitated, and holding the scissors half
open, she feelingly asked:
"Do you really wish me to cut oft
your hair?'
81 do" answered Mrs. Lowell, firmly.
"There il is off, and / am sorry"
said Mrs. Currier, laying the hair down
on the bed.
The sufferer gently raised her hand
and tenderly smoothed the disheveled
locks, exclaiming in childlike man.
ner:
"How much | used to think of you |
and dear grandma, she loved you too I!
And how he worshipped your beauty
many times his delicate fingers have
fondled youl"
Mrs. Lovell's voice became choked
with weeping. She pressed her small,
shapely hands to her forehead and
groaned aloud.
Mrs. Currier exerted all her influence
i'll soothing the poor woman.
81 do believe could die in peace if
! could tell my sorrows to some one"
81 deeply sympathize with you, said
Mrs Currier.
II appreciate your Kindness" said
Mrs. Lowell; "and l will trust you with
my story"
Mrs Lowell looked wildly around
the room. For moment she seemed
greatly excited With an effort she
partially controlled her feelings, and
speaking in low tone, said:
II was born in Manchester, England.
My parents died when l was an infant.
My grandma cared for me. She gave
me beautiful home, where lived very
happily. l loved her, and yet l wrong,
ed her. 1t is just two years ago to.
morrow that | was married to an Amer
lean gentleman. | was 16 years old.
All! how my dear grandma cried when
l told her | was married. She never
liked my husband. In three weeks time
he was obliged to return to this country.
He promised to come back in two
months, and said we should never again
be parted. The two months at last ex-
pired, but without bringing the beloved
one. Oh, how anxiously | watched for
him, and how dear grandma tired to
comfort me. Months passed, and no
tidings came of the wanderer could
bear the suspense-the dreadful wait
ing-no longer. stole away from
home, came to Amerc.., and searched
everywhere for Harry. All my trouble
has been in vain.
GAS last resort to find my dear
husband | inserted an advertisement in
the Herald's personals, and so worded
it that if it meets his eye he cannot fail
to recognize it as coming from his wife.
| hope he'll come before | die. | must
see him once more and learn from his
own lips why he has deserted me. Oh,
| would like grandma to have my hair.
Please write to this address, and say
that am sorry for the heartaches /
have caused her. Tell her that my
great love for Harry made me more
wretched than happy. Do not let her
know how wretchedly l die
Mrs. Lowell was very much exhaust
ed by the exertion of talking. She
closed her syes and gave her hand to
Mrs. Currier, who assn, ed the poor
woman that she would carry out hel
request, and would also have her prop
erly buried if she died. AT this moment
the door was hurriedly pushed open
and gentleman quickly walked up to
the bedside.
Mrs. Lowell started up, and screamed
out in wild, frantic tone, "Harry
my Harry and threw herself into the
gentleman's arms.
He held her close to his breast, fond
ly kissing her brow, cheeks, and lips
and then smilingly gazing into her pale
face, he exclaimed in loving tones:
dearest Fanny, o, forgive me.
have not seen one happy hour since we
parted. Tell me, darling wife, that you
forgive me and love me still
Suddenly the gentleman grew pale
he stared wildly at the sufferer, and
quickly laying her back on the pillow,
he cried out:
"Great Heaven! she is dead!" He
turned to gaze about the dismal room
when his eyes glared wildly, his face
became nore pallid, his whole body
shook with fright. There stood his
gentle wife a witness to his crime-th,
living and the dead-victims both
there they were before him to appal his
guilty soul.
Mrs, Currier was shocked, grieved
and absolutely terrified. In second
all the sunshine of existence was for
ever darkened
The golden tresses again crossed thu
ocean, but when they arrived in En- G
land the old grandma was dead.
Mrs. Currier never reproached he
husband with words, but her pale fac,
ana wasted form censured him more
than language could have done, an,
when in six months time after this SAD
exposure Harry Currier laid his wifi,
away to rest among the dead, his hear
bade farewell to all happiness. He still
lives surrounded by wealth, but NJ
riches can erase from his memory tn
evil that he has committed, He oftel
repeats to a near friend who knows hi
history, ''the wages of sin is death"
| CsEFUI. KNowLEDGE.-To an oil,
i :. Z 1 L