The Iola register., 1882-10-06

weeks she could remember that had not
seemed one half as long! Sometimes
some one, thinking to comfort or rouse
her, suggested that cit was not as
though it was her own child" and per-
haps it was not; but remembering the
little grave in the green shadow of the
Plymouth hills, and the little face tha.
faded so early from earth, she said So
berly that "there could be no difference
she kne,o by experience" But she
did not remember what twas that soft
ened the first sorrow. and made it, look
ing back through the sanctifying vista
4 of years, seem so much less bitter than
this. Viola was lost; her baby God had
taken, and she was safe. This was the
secret-the secret that makes a living
sorrow SO much harder to bear than a
dead one, always. He had done it.
One, two, three days, and so up to a
week, and the mystery that shrouded
the child's disappearance remained still
unsolved. The shores of the river had
been dragged, but nothing had been dis
covered The police had taken the
usual measures, but all their search had
been utterly and entirely fruitless. No
such child had been seen, either alone
or in company, on any train, boat or
vessel leaving Detroit that morning.
See seemed to have disappeared as COM
pletely as if the earth had opened and
swallowed her up, as in their amaze
Elent the Andersons almost believed it
had.
I'VE cannot wait here much longer.
Myra," Mr.. Anderson said, uneasily, to
his wife; "these hotel bills run up terri
bly,, and you know we've got barely
enough money now to buy the farm Tom
has bargained for. 1 never did get in
debt, and don't like to begin by doing
so in a strange place."
"But, Ben, it seems terrible to 60 on
without knowing something about her."
she said sadly.
Il wish we never had started" in
terrupted Ralph. impetuously. Il am
sure shall never like it out there, and l
| don't want to go now she isn't to be
with u.s. the frank, boyish face grow
ing grave and troubled.
ats my opinion that its no use a.
waitin' here. It's hard thing to say,
neighbors, but l don't believe she's any
where, dlire, now," Bradlee said, his
jovial face graver than it ever was be-
fore. "Still, if you say so, why We II
wait, if it's all summer. / wouldn't
vally every dollar l have got-which
amt many, to be sure-goin into Cor
don's pocket, if only there was the
slightest chance of her comm back, or
our findin' out ANYTHING about her, poor
little Hummin' Birdr'
There was two or three days more of
dreary waiting and suspense, and then
the journey was resumed, Mr.. Gordon
promising to inform them Immediately
if anything whatever concerning the
lost child came to light.
The '.beautiful West" of which Tom
Arnold had written in such glowing
terms to his sister, seemed now to that
sister like some dreadful ignus fatuus,
growing wilder and more titful as they
shot away from the city where it still
which had crept so into her heart, was
yet somewhere hidden. All, how DESC
late and.gloomy looked the half-broken
forest farms, scattered here and there
along the way! What curious, squalid-
looking huts, with four small papes of
glass doing duty for windows, and nev-
er shingle or clapboard, or bit of white
paint anywhere about them. And how
solemn and lonely looked the great
shadowy forests, in their dead, unbroken
level; so little like the airy hills of the
East, where the leaves toyed with the
clouds, and caught the sunshine in their
green palms. But now and then there
glimmered through the trees pretty
white villages. as they hurried on, and
at last Chicago was reached--Chicago,
the Wicked, if all the newspapers say
can be relied on. But am not inclined
to believe all its traducers say of it. 1
remember some very pleasant things of
it, and l believe there could be quite
respectable remnant found who have
mot bowed the knee unto Baal," even
in these degenerate days.
Tom Arnold. a little older, little
stouter, but still the old, genial, true
hearted Tom, grasped their hands the
instant their feet touched the platform.
"Oh, Benz grasping his hand,
"and Ned Bradlee, as 1 live! Well, if
this isn't jolly! And Myra, my dear
girl" holding her in his strong arms
and kissing her fondly. ''and this is
your boy?-this great fellows holding
Ralph's arm and looking admiringly at
him. "Aren't you delighted to see your
worthy uncle, when, it is said, you
are so fortunate to resemble in certain
fine traits of character?" he cried, with
laugh. "But where is the wonderful
little exotic you wrote me such an ex-
travagant account of, Myra9" he asked,
looking round, and pausing to take
breath.
..She is lost, Tom," Mrs. Anderson
answered, gravely, the smile fading
from her lips.
''Not deadr' he exclaimed, his face
SOLDERING.
1--WE do not know and as they |
went into the station she told him the |
story of Viola's strange disappearance.
.'And that is why you are so far be-
hind? l have been here week, waiting
for you, and yesterday wrote to find !
out if you had left Massachusetts,. l !
believe L was getting rather nervous.
But this is an odd affair! Don't you be-
lieve the child ran away on purpose?
You say she didn't like the idea of
coming?"
IRAN away! - our Violar' cried !