Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1882-07-12

SGIOuS, udISH GOHos, now IuIl OF sup
pressed passion, " [ suppose ye think
it fine to laugh at a mitherless baby at
niver harmed ye turning to go-"ye
nah think it fune moo, an We NAH think
different sumo day, when yer ain BARNS
are nitherless.
The men parted right and left, without
word, leaving lane to the door. When
it closed behind him, two or three, who
had laughed among the loudest. looked
after him, and remembered afterwards
how as he turned the corner and disap-
peared in the drizzling rain, Jenny,
whom he still held, suddenly put an arm
around his neck, as if to steady herself.
ALI the merriment was over. Jansen
made an uneasy attempt at a joke, as he
folded the monkey pattern; but no one
laughed. The common feeling was ex-
pressed when Jim Barker blew from his
mouth quid with some violence, and
said, -
{" Pm burned if ever L laughs at them
two again.
All no! no one would laugh at them
again!
"Dinna mind it, jimmy" said her
father, as the two neared home.
"No, father" answered Jenny; yet
her lips quivered as she said it.
Meantime the rain grew heavier, and if
possible, wetter. By the time they
reached the bridge they were drenched.
The swollen river was roaring below,
beating against the stone piers with a
deep, angry growl.
Donald Craigie examined the timbers
closely, almost inch by inch; and it was
with troubled face that he said to Jen-
ny, on entering the house,
"I'm thinkln' there'ull be trouble.
my BARN, if the water gaes on risin'."
Indeed, his anxiety was SO great that
Jenny quite forgot her recent grief and
the two ate their evening meal in silence.
It was five in the afternoon when they
reached home; in half an hour the east
bound freight train passed, at six o'clock
the express, and after each one Craigie
made careful and minute inspection of
the bridge.
There was to be another train at
eight o'clock, then no more till mid
night
Jenny, tired out, fell asleep at last by
the fire. Her father put her on the bed
without undressing her, and settled him
self for short nap in his chair. Buthe
could not sleep. The noise of the storm
grew louder, the cry of the river sharp
er, and an anxiety possessed him that he
could in no way control.
Twice, lantern in hand he went out,
crossing and recrossing the long
gloomy bridge. All was safe, however,
and he called himself fool for bis
pains. Still he could not rest; and at
quarter of eight o'clock he started for a
third trip.
Some noise he made woke Jenny, and
she asked if the train was gone. "Not
yet, my BARN; but I'm gaein' DOT to see
that as safe"
So saying he bent over Jenny and
kissed her. Chow wad We like it, jim
ny" said he, 9" to gaze where there'd be
nae trains by night, an nae brig, wi the
water swirlin'?"
"Why .father!" said Jenny, with
wide-open eyes, "wad We like it, yer
sell p"
"Im nae sayin' that" he answered;
"but we'll think of 1t, we'll think of it,
my BARN." And with a final kiss, he
went out Into the storm.
Jenny, fattening her face against the
window, watched the lantern bobbing in
and out, till it disappeared. By this she
knew he had entered the bridge.
Half minute perhaps, slipped by,
when all at once her heart gave bound,
then seemed actually to stand still, for
above the noise of the storm, dull,
grinding roar met her ear-then a thud
then the rush of the storm once more.
1t took but few minutes for her to
reach the bridge and call "Faither!"
forgetting that even If all were well, he
could not possibly hear her In that ele-
mental din.
No voice, no light, came through the
rain to meet her, and hope died in her
heart; she knew she should see him no
more. But-the train! At that thought
her scared senses came back to her.
There was no time to cry. She must
take her fathers place as far as possible,
and try to stop the train.
She hurried back to the house. and
with grave, unchildish forethought, took
off her shoes, for fear of slipping on the
wet timbers, tied shawl firmly around
her, and lighting another lantern, started
again for the bridge.
Once within it, she advanced eau
tiously, throwing the light of the lantern
before each step. It was only too easy
| LIZ" w oOC WIdU ldDp0IGus Lie
middle pier had given way, carrying with
it in its fall both beams and planking.
Between the two halves of the bridge,
there now yawned black gulf, but
feebly spanned by ragged, shivering
timber, whose length had secured it a
momentary hold. The whole structure,
indeed, was trembling, and the other
piers might any moment follow the first.
Imagine it che shaking bridge; the
tremulous flare of the lantern against
the darkness; the long, wet beam span
ming black chasm up through which
came the growl Of the wild river, down
to meet which came the stormy rush of
the wind; and in the midst of it ala
mere speck in space-the child.
There was but one thing to do, and
she did it. Unsteadily balancing herself,
and clutching the lantern tightly, she
began to cross the beam. Her little bare
feet chung to it like fingers. Step by
step she advanced, though the wind