The Wellington enterprise. [volume] (Wellington, Ohio) 1867-188?, 1883-10-31

into sitting posture, and gave him the
two biscuits, turning her eyes away, so
that he might not see their hungry long,
ing. BE was as warm and happy as
possible after his long nights rest, but
Jenny was too cramped and wearied to
move much. Her very lips refused TO
open when she first tried, and when
words came they fell feebly from her.
But by and by, when the child grew
fretful. she had strength left to gather
him up into her weary arms, and whis-
per softly to him until he grew content
again.
''Sing, Jenny" he cried, imperiously.
She turned her eyes vacantly upon
him and tried to speak. but she was
shivering in the bitter wind, and numb,
and no words came. Then she tried to
smile, but it seemed as IL she had for
gotten how. Slowly, one by one, the
tears rolled down her cheeks, because,
for the first time, this child had wanted
her, and she was too weak to answer.
Philip thought she was asleep-so fast
asleep that he could not awaken her.
And then, in a moment, the mist rolled
away, and the sunlight fiickered upon
the waters Just as it had done the day
before. And they were quite close to
land-so close that John Smith, who
was rowing along the shore, searching for
the Swallow, came out to them with q
few quick strokes of his oars. Men had
been searching for the missing ones all
night, and John Smiths lusty shouts
brought them together very swiftly, but
they ceased shouting when they stood
with little Philip, looking at that still
form that the Swallow had brought
home. Sir Philip, pale and anxious,
came down to the shore, and 1t was he
who took Jenny out and laid her on
the sand, covering her with his coat,
and forcing brandy between her lips.
ssThe lassie's deid," the neighbors
said solemnly to one another.
But Sir Philip knew better.
ssShe is not dead" he said. sI will
carry her to the house myseh-but she
is overcome by the cold"
He knew the whole story instinctively
when he looked from his little sons
flushed face to the still fair whiteness Of
Jenny's sharpened features. For the
moment he was almost tempted to
think. with these rough fishermen, that
the unspoken question of Jenny's sad
eyes had been answered at last But
she awoke at last-delirious.
For seven days she hovered between
life and death; but even in delirium her
love for little children was strangely
visible. Hour after hour Lady Wynne
sat patiently beside the bed on which
the long straight form left so slight an
impression. Sometimes she held the
restless brown hands; sometimes she
sang nursery rhymes softly. But
Jenny never knew her. She would
push her hands away. and murmur
softly to herself about the waters, and
the boat, and the rocks, and the terri
BILE biting wind But at last the delirium
wore itself out, and the great sad eyes
looked quietly out from beneath the
short tangled locks. Jenny was hardly
sensible even now, but she was violent
no longer.
1.-The Swallow will get home soon,"
she said. 81 am cold and tired-tired." :"
Presently the baby cried in the inner
room, and the sound reused her. So
they hushed him to sleep and Lady
Wynne brought him in herself and laid
his little round head close 10 Jenny's
shoulder. She wrapped her arms tenderly
about him and laid her cheek to his, and
then there was silence in the room for q
.sShe is sleeping" Lady Wynne said
TO the Doctor. But the Doctor shook
his head.
s 1t is mere exhaustion, not sleep"
he said. sit is possible we may never
rouse her again."
So Lady Wynne sat down beside the
bed once more and took the baby on
her own knee. And she watched, with
tears in her eyes, the little life that had
been sacrificed to Philip slowly flicker
| ing out. By-and-by the children came
in from their walk and battered by the
door on tiptoe on their way to the day
nursery.
Jenny opened her eyes feebly and her
face flushed.
LET me goI'' she cried, stretching
ont both her arms. "The children want
mer'
She threw the coverings aside and
tried to rise, but Lady Wynne held her
gently back. She struggled feebly for
q minute and then lay still-so still that
her quick, uneven breathing seemed to
| fill the room. Then once again her eyes
opened-sad no longer, but unutterably
happy. ;,
she said.
The desire was fulfilled at last. The
other life had opened out before her.
She had gone where the children
"wanted her."
They built lighthouse out among
the rocks and wrote Jenny's name up
on the corner-stone-not because they
feared they would forget her. but be-
cause her undying memory was as a
light to Philip Wynne, far above the
storms and tempests of this work-a-day
world. Geraldine Butt, ia Youths COM
| pdnion.