Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1883-03-15

room. Stralght up tne narrow stHirs
she goes With feet steps. and kneels
down BY the black box half hidden
under the sloping ewes. With nimble
fingers she opens its and lifts the violin
from It's coffiu-like case.
Beth feels no jealousy in her heart
toward the dumb thing. and her touch
Is gentle as bis own was wont to be as
she carries it down and lays it silently
in his arms.
As his gaze falls on It. smile of
wondrous content crosses his lips, and
he puts one hand TO touch the strings.
One instant the long. slim fingers rest
there. and then slip down from sheer
WEAKNESS.
"Not tonight" he says softly; mot
tonight"
When the elders 20 down to partake
Of the belated supper in the shady
keeping-room, Beth still watches on.
The gloom deepens In the apartment,
and there is no sound save the chirp of
the crickets in the pasture. The moon
the wide easement.
Leaning forward in the silvery light
Beth touches the brown hand lightly. It
is icy cold. The girl makes no outcry,
sheds no tears, but laying the helpless
fingers back on the dumb strings, goes
to the window and looks out over the
wide fields to the far-off silent woods
with eyes that see nothing, and lips that
say only, mot tonight, not tonight.
Not any morer'
Two years later Beth marries her old
lover. John Mansen, and goes with him
10 his ancient homestead to live. He
denies her no wish of her heart, pleased
il she but smile on him in return. Soon
little one comes to bear them conf
pany, and as time rolls on, a troop of
children play through the low-raftered
rooms.
In summer their favorite haunts are
the sunny paths bordered by rows of
tall holly and overrun by creeping
myrtle; but in winter they frolic in the
great garrett, where is stored multitude
of old relics which constitute at once
their childish wonder and delight.
One bitterly cold afternoon Beth sits
III lIOhb VI bnC OpCu ntC llSbCulu0 W buC
wind as it howls through the branches,
shaking the frosty panes with savage
fury, and watching the red embers as
they drop slowly one by one. Suddenly
there comes n rush of eager feet along
the hall, the sound of childish voices,
and the harsh twang of discordant notes.
''Look, mamma" cries Ted, the
eldest. lyon know you told us never
to touch the old leather trunk that
stands near the south window, the one
that was yours when you were girl;
but Lettie disobeyed, and look what
she found at the bottom hidden away in
long black box. See, it has strings,
and ] can sound them."
go back TO your play children"
A careful hand takes the violin from
Ted's rough grasp, and closes the door
on the small jewellers. A firm step re-
crosses the room, and a stalwart form
bends over Beth as she still sits in the
glow Of the fire.
''You need not have hidden this
dumb witness from me, Beth" John
says kindly. II know naught of music,
but the sight of this is dear to me if
only for the poor lads sake. l know
well that you loved him in the old days.
know, too, that l can never be like
him. God casts men in differeBtmoGlds,
finer or coarser as the case may be; but
he gave me heart that loves you too
well to bid you remember in silence.
Beth cannot see the embers now.
There is curious mist before her eyes;
so she looks up at her husband instead.
'You are noble man. john" she
answers softly. "How noble never
realized before. Yes, it is true that
loved the lad, and knowing that you
possess this knowledge, l will make you
no less tender and true-hearted wife"
And gazing into the upturned face
that, spite of the changes wrought by
Times unyielding hand, is dearer to
him than its girlish counterpart, John
Manscn smiles and is satisfied.