The true northerner., 1883-06-01


Did il ever seem to Mercie Browne
during all these days that it was cruel
dispensation of Providence which COM
PEELED her thus, at 10 years of age, to
exchange all her bright dreams and
pleasant anticipations for these hard,
stern duties? If it did, She made no
outward sign, but bravely took up her
allotted task and worked on, meeting
always her reward, the reward of q
heart at peace with itself. through q
consciousness Of duty faithfully per-
formed.
The time came, however, when she
knew when she could realize, with an
intense thankfulness, that it was "all
for the best"
For two years she heard nothing ut
all from Percy Harrington. Then there
came vague rumors of the fast life he
was living, of his often going to his
home in the small hours of the night,
grossly inebriated; then of the seizure
of his goods and chattels by the exc
cutioners of the law; lastly, of the sud-
den death of his gentle, patient heart
broken young wife. Then his name
ceased to be mentioned, and he dropped,
as it were, entirely out of her world.
Another year dragged its slow length
along the stream of time, bringing into
Mercie's life but little of its sunshine
and sweetness. BY dint of unceasing
industry and patient economy, she had
managed to keep the wolf from her
door. Nay, more, she had kept her lit
tie family comfortably clothed, and
| - ,oLAo1 ,f ha t;,,1n
Mile was now II years old, Jack g.,
and little Herbert 6.
But hard work, anxiety and constant
confinement were making sad inroads
on the once robust constitution. The
erewhile rosy, blooming country lass,
was now pale, leaden-eyed, care-worn
woman. Would her strength hold out :?
1t must, it must 1t was only the
spring weather making her feel so weak
and exhausted now. She would ask the
doctor for tonic. She would ask her
employers for couple of weeks vaca-
tion in June, and she would run down
to G., her native town, and get a
smell of the wild roses and taste of
the sweet, fresh air, which would be
sure to bring the color into her cheeks
again, and strength into her limbs.
Alas alas for all her little plans.
The doctor decided that the tonic would
do little if any good, without rest and
quiet, and her employers utterly refused
the much needed vacation, ION account
OF stress Of business, they said. So,
with the hot, unshed tears hanging
heavily under her eyelids, and her limbs
xuaolxnr lnu Mnrntn
worked on.
But when fragrant, breezy June had
given place to the burning, sultry skies
of July, there came cessation of it all.
She was returning to her home one
evening, after buster day than usual,
feeling almost too tired and i'll to care
much whether she lived or not. In at
tempting to cross the street, she became
aware that q furious, runaway horse
was dashing directly toward her. A
sudden weakness came over her; a
swift darkness closed in around her.
She knew she was falling; knew she
was under the very feet of the frantic
animal, and then all was blank.
When she came to herself, she was
lying on arudely-improvised conch in a
small grocery store, surrounded by a
! crowd of gaping spectators. Her head
was pillowed on the arm of tall man,
whose face was covered with long,
brown, silky beard, and who seemed to
be anxiously regarding her. She raised
her head and attempted to speak, but
fell back with groan
THANK heaven, she lives!" exclaimed
the brown-bearded man fervently.
Doctor do your best now. Let her be
removed to some place where she can be
taken care of, and provide good nurses.
1t was my horse that caused the dam
age, and / will foot the bills. Let there
be no expense spared.
Take me to my own home" moaned
Mercie.
And where might that be, little
woman?" the brown beard interro-
gated.
Mercie gave the name of the street
and the Dumber of the house. Then
she was lifted in the arms Of strong
men, placed upon a hastil CONSTRUCTED
litter and carried to her home. Before
they reached it she had tainted again,
and her unconscious form was borne in
and laid upon the bed amid the dis
tressed cries of the frightened children.
While the doctor and the women who
had been summoned, were caring for the
unfortunate girl, the brown-bearded
stranger drew the children into the lit
tie kitchen, told them all about the ac-
cident, and elected such information as
he could concerning their circum
stances. Mile proved to be rather re-
ticent, but from the boys he gathered
the facts of their orphanage, of Mercie's
relation to them, of her failing health,
and of her employers refusal to grant
her a holiday when she needed it so
much.
What was your fathers name?" he
asked at last, mainly for the sake OF say
ing something TO hold their attention.
David Browne"
The stranger ted curiously "Your
mothers name?"
"Susan Browne" was answered just
as promptly.
He was getting some What excited
now. where did you live before You
moved here?"
"In the town of G., in the south
ern part of this county"
"AIy dear cbildre1 I" he exclaimed