Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1883-09-19

again. but little less wildly this tire
David almost asked her another Sunday
night. Then she had made up the pearl
colored silk. She used to 90 and look
at it fondly and admiringly from time
TO time; once i'm while she would try
il on and survey herself in the glass,
and imagine herself David's bridc-a
faded bride, but a happy and beloved
one.
She looked ut the dress occasionally
now, but a little sadly, as the co .yiction
was forcing itself upon her more and
more that she should never wearit. But
the sadness was always more for David $
sake than her own. She saw him grow
ing an old man, and the lonely uncared-
for life that he led filed her heart with
tender pity and sorrow for him. She
did not condne her kind Offices to the
Saturday baking. Every week his little
house was tidied and set to rights, and
his mending looked after.
Once, on Sunday night, when she
sped rip in his coat that had grown
long from the want of womanly fingers
constantly at hand, she had COOL cry
after he had left and she had gone into
her room. There was something more
pitiful TO her, something that touched
her heart more deeply, in that rip in her
lovers Sunday coat than in all her long
years of waiting.
AS the years went on il was some.
times with u sad heart that Maria stood
and watched the poor lonely old figure
moving slower than ever down the street
to his lonely home; but the heart was
sad for him always and never for her.
self. She used to wonder at him a little
sometimes, though always with the most
to lead the solitary, cherries life that he
did, to go back to his dark, voiceless
home, when he might be 50 sheltered
and cared for in his Old age. She firmly
believed that it was only owing to her
inlover' incorrigib slowness, in this as
everything else. She never doubted for
an instant that he loved her. Some
women might have tried fastening mat
ters little them selves, but Maria, with
the delicacy which is sometimes more
inherent in n ste ,dy, practical natu re
like hers than in more ardent one,
would have lost her self-respect forever
If she had done such thing.
So she lived cheerfully along, corded
her boots, though her fingers were get
ting stif, humored her mother, who was
getting feebler and more childish every
year, and did the best she could for her
poor fool, ii old lover.
When David WAS seventy, and she
sixty-eight, she gave away the pearl
colored silk to COUSINS daughter who
was going to be married. The girl was
Young and pretty and happy, but she
was poor and the silk would make over
into a grander wedding dress for her
than she could hope to obtain in any
other way.
Poor cd Maria smoothcd the lustrous
folds fondly with her withered hands
before sending it away and cried little,
with Il patient pity for David and her.
self But when tear splashcd directly
on to the shining surface of the silk, she
stopped crying at once, and her sorrow
full expression changed into one of care
full scrutiny as she wiped the salt drop
away with her han lkcrchief and held
the dress up To the light to be sure that it
was not spotted. Apractical nature like
Maria's is sometimes great boon to its
possessor. 1t is doubtful if anything
else can dry tear as quickly.
Somehow Maria always felt little
differently toward David after she had
given away her wedding dress. There
had always been little tinge of con
seriousness in her manner toward him, q
little reserve and caution before people.
But after the wedding dress had gone,
all question of marriage had disap.
peorcd so entirely from her mind that
the delicate considerations born of it
vanished. She was uncommonly hale
and hearty for woman of her age; there
was apparently much more than two
years difference between her and her
lover. 1t was not only the Saturdays
bread and PIC that she carried now and
deposited on David's little kitchen table,
but openly and boldly, not caring who
should see her, many warm dinner.
Every day, after her own house work
was done, David's house was set to
rights. He should have all the comforts
he needed in his last years, she deter
mined. That they were his last years
was evident. He coughed, and now
walked so slowly from feebleness and
weakness that it was matter of doubt
to observers whether he could reach
Maria Brewster's before Monday eve-
ming.
One Sunday night he staid q little
longer than usual-the clock struck ten
before he started. Then he rose, and
said, as he had done every Sunday eve
ming for so many years: "Well, Maria,
I guess it's about time for me to be
goin'."
She helped him on with his coat, and
tied on his tippet. Contrary to his usual
habit he stood in the door, and hesitatcd
II minute, there seemed to be something
he wanted to say.
"Alaria."
"Well, David?'
"Pm gittn' to be an old man, you
know, an I've allus been slow -goin'; ]
couldn't seem to help it. There has been
Il COOL many things haven got around
to-" The old cracked voice quavered
painfully.
"Yes, l know, David, all aboatit; you
couldn't help it. wouldn't worry a Bit
about it IL 1 were you"
" You don't lay up anything agin me,
Maria?"
I" No, David"
Goodnight, Maria"
Good night, David. Twill fetch you
over some boiled dinner to morrow"
She held the lamp ut the door Till the
patient, lettering old figure was out OF
sight. She had 10 wipe the tears from
her spectacles in order to see to read her
Bible when she went in.
Next morning she was hurrying up
her house work to go over to Davids-
somehow she felt little anxious about
him this morning-when there came
loud knock at her door. When she
opened it boy stood there, painting for