St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1882-06-23

it ever seems as if he didn't it is only
| because he is so absorbed in this thing
that will make all our fortunes by-and
| by. Only shall not be here | am
going fast.
"No, don't cry, darling l can't bear
that, and | want to speak to you.
shall never see another spring | have
felt that for some time now perhaps
| shall not even see the new year come
in. And | want you, dear, to take my
place to father. He is Il very great
genius, deary, and he has great ideas.
We must not let little things disturb
him, and keep him from carrying them
out. Promise me, my daughter, that
you will try to fill my place to him
when am gone"
''Oh mother mother ~ responded
the girls wailing cry, chow can | have
You 90 but you know | will do what
you wish"
"Remember all it means, darling. 1t
is something more than cooking and
sweeping and keeping his home tidy.
You must always put your father first.
There might come time when you
wanted something very, very much !;
| but if it went against your fathers in.
terest and his wishes, you must give it
up. Do You promise ?"
"les, | promise, mother. | would
give it up if it broke my heart.n
| do not think the mother heard
those last words her thoughts were
so busy just then with the husband she
had loved so patiently and so dearly.
She went On,-
"And, darling, you mnst comfort him
when | am gone, for he will need 60; .
| fort. You saw tonight how he loves
me tell him, dear, that | always knew
he loved me, even when he seemed far
thest off that | never, never doubted
it for moment. JVU you tell him ~
eyes, mother"
"Ah, you have made me happy now.
| can bear to die if | know that You
will care for him as have done. And
by-and-by, he will make the world
very bright for you, for he is sure to
Succeed-Sure
That night Maggie went to sleep in
her mothers arILs. 1t had come to be
an understood thing that when the
father was busy with The Invention,
he staid up stairs and took such sleep
us he found time for on the lounge in
| his wOrk-rOOm. SO the child crept
close to her mothers heart and lay
there, listening to the November rain
falling drearily outside until she went
to sleep.
Suddenly, in the middle of the night,
she was awakened. Her mother had
risen up in bed md was coughing vio-
iently and then stream, warm.
gurgling, terrible, poured from her lips
and wet the girls clinging hands.
. Remember your promise -dar-
ling. l-am going to far-coun-
! tries"
Then the voice failed, and the head
fell back upon the pillow.
Unaccustomed to death as Maggie
was, she knew that her mother was
dead; that she had spoken her last
words in this world.
The girl did not shrek, or even
weep. 1t seemed to her that some
thing inside of her had turned to stone
and lay cold and heavy where hel
heart ought to be. She noted how
steadily it was raining still. She lit :
light and put cloak on over hel
night-gOwn, and went up stairs to thai
. father to whom she had promised tC
give her life henceforth.
, Father" she said, speaking as qui
city and steadily as if she were ma.
chine, 81 think mother is dead"
Oh, the cry, the horrible, anguisheC
cry, that rent the stiffness.
"Dead! Ny Mary :"
And it seemed to Maggie that her fa
ther made one wild plunge from tn,
top to the bottom of the stairs.
, There was need enough in the dread
full weeks that followed the funeral
that Maggie Faithful should comfor
her father, even as she had promised
For six months he never once wen
near The Invention. He seelLed t.
have lost all interest in everything ex
cept his dead. Over and over he woulC
ask Maggie, earnestly as one who il
t pleading for his life
"And you feel sure that she knew
loved Ler ?"
"She told me so that last day" tn,
r girl would answer each time, as pa
tiently as if she had never said tn,
words before. "She said | was to tel
/ you that she never, never doubted i
for one moment"
7 Then he would sit for hours loobin:
r quite silently into the fire, as if h,
t sought there some phantom, whethe
t of hope or memory.
; At last Maggie grew frightened. He
own grief was heavier, it seemed t,
her, than she could bear but it hat
! been softened to her, though this sh
was hardly old enough to understand
= by the very fact that she had her ia
l ther to care for; her promise to he
2 mother to fulfil.
Was she comforting him as he
b mother would have wished she aske,
;, herself, when she saw him sitting
i through long, solitary days, just look
ing steadily into the fire and neve
e speaking, except to ask the same old
t anxious question about her mother
+ Surely to be absorbed in The Invention
e was better than this. One day sh
Il mentioned it to him timidily.
"What do | care for the thing, nov
e she is gone ?" he cried out, bitterly. %
meant to do things for her and nov
= she is out there i'll her grave"
T "But she would not have wished yo
V to feel So" Maggie persisted, tenderly
: "She was so proud of you. That yer
). last day she told me she knew yo
II would succeed. She said you were
It great genius"
o The first gleam of light Maggie ha
seen on his face since her mother die
/. came into it then.
II ''Did she, did Mary say that i? So sh
was proud of me, poor girl; and sh
It was sure | could succeed Perhap
It she'll know it, even now, if do, an
V be glad-whO knows ~
| He was a man of moods-this ma
in whose genius his wife had so absc
t lutely believed. He got up with thes
words, and went up stairs, where TIL
:. Invention waited for him: and, froI
|, that moment he was given over to i
n heart and snml and hnlN a If Lis Is-ii