News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1882-08-24
SAVED BY LOVE.

JAMIE oAbhlEL oOSE41As
SAVED BY LOVE.
With o roar and a rattle the 6 O'CLOCK
express train rushed across the bridge
that spanned the narrow river near Der
went farm, and Alice Derwent, the
farmers pretty, dark-eyed daughter
stood under the vine-shaded porch,
looking after it with an unconscious
sigh.
$50 many come by you, so many &c
by you, out into the great, wide, beauti
full world" she thought, as she gazei
over the fertile valley farm and our
through the break in the blue noun
tains, from whence a trail of white
smoke came floating back. 81 wonder
If you will ever bring me anything, OF
carry me away, or must 1 live my life
out to the end shut in by these quiet
hills ?'
"Supper ready, mother ?" called out
the hearty-looking farmer, hating in
the glow of the bright freight on the
open hearth, as he came in from fodder
ing the stock, followed by his son
Thomas, who was the living, breathing
"image of his SIRE"
"To be sure it is" replied his bustling
little wife, who had just such eyes and
hair as bonny Alice, and just the same
sweet smile. "Isn't it always ready,
father, when the train goes by? Come,
Alice 20
s.Alice is out there looking for her
fortune, mother" said Tom. SIT is
coming by that train. 1 know all
about it."
Alice smiled and shook her head at
her saucy brother, rs she took her seat
at her fathers side.
"Tve worked hard all day long,
Martha, and Tom has kept pace with
me, and we both said as we came home
that we were too tired to eat. But this
is comfort 1t would be hard to see
anything much pl~easanter than this
tidy kitchen, and just as hard to find
any of their French cooks that can beat
you and Alice, my DEAR" said Elihu
Derwent, glancing thankfully at the
blazing fire, the table laid so neatly, the
tempting meal of batter-cakes and
wheaton bread and golden butter and a
large dish of cold beef and vegetables
that was placed before the two hungry
men.
Mrs. Derwent poured out the tea
strong, hot and fragrant.
"Old Seaton, up in the big house
yonder, don't often get such tea as this,
with all his servants" said Tom, look
ing across the valley to the brick and
stone palace of the one millionaire OF
the village.
"Peor man p sighed Mrs. Derwent,
at do pity him I His wife and daughter
dead, and his only son so wild and will
full and a wanderer all over the world.
Only last week he told me, with tears in
his eyes, that he had heard of his boy, and
that he had been seen lately in London
intoxicated and poorly dressed. Yet
when he wrote there to him-and wrote
kindly-he had disappeared. If it was
our Tom, Eihu, 1 should just break my
heart. Tom, if you eyer do grow un-
steady and u away, like Philip Sea-
ton, you will give your mother her
d~eath-blow. Remember that !"
"Thank God, it isn't Tom, Martha !
I'm sorry, too, for the man and for the
boy. Mr.. Seaton owns that he turned
him out of his house in London in a fit
of anger, and that the boy swore he
would never enter his doors again. Bad
temper on both sides, you see !; and
So Why, Martha, what on earth is
that? ?"
Farmer Derwent might well ask the
question and rush from the tea table to
the door, followed by his wondering
wife and children.
A procession of four of his neighbors
was coming up from his garden gate.
at the gate stood a horse and a light
wagon, and from the wagon the four
men had lifted an inanimate body and
were bearing it toward the house.
"The 6 o'clock express has III of
the line, a mile or two up the valley"
said Farmer Jones, as he and his two
sous ard his brother-in-law reached the
porch with their senseless burden.
"Ever SO many people hurt, but able
to go on as o as they got Iighted.
But this poor fellow Ia no nearly dead
that we thought we had better bring
him here, being as it was the nearest
house, and send for the doctor. We
knew hat your wife could nurse him if
any one could, Mr.. Derwent."
"You're right there. Bring him
right in" said the farmer.
His wife led the way to her best bed
-room, next the parlor.
Tom sprang TO b back of his swift
sorrel colt and set of for the doctor.
Half an hour later the supper table
was cleared, the supper dishes were
washed and put away and Alice Der
went sat pensively by the kitchen fire,
while her mother and father were busy
with the doctor in the spare ROOM, and
Tom, hurrying to and fro on then
errands, stopped once or twice to in
form her that the stranger was young
and handsome, but dressed like a labor.
er and that the doctor said at was 6
near chance whether he lived or died"
Two weeks passed on.
The doctor came and went each day,
the neighbors far and near volunteered
their services-all except Squire Seaton,
who lived his usual secluded life in his
great mansion, buried in his books, and
knew nothing of the stranger who lay
at deaths door.
"Poor boy Alice, 1 wish you would
go In and sit beside him awhile" said
Mrs. Derwent, on the first evening of
the third week of illness. "He is asleep
now. If he awakes you can call me.
If we only knew his people I would
SEND for them. I fear he will not last
long,"
Alice crept in, and took her place in
the nurses chair.
Tears of pity dimmed her eyes as she
looked at the wasted figure in the bed
the pale, thin face, the fast-closed
eras the hnlIou tapoDIaz ro5.