The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1883-11-08
A NIGHTS BATTLE.
BY LILY NJ. CURRY.

Without, the wind, signing softly,
fingered in the iron lattice and at in
tervals brushed the windows with a
faint spray of rain. Within, the shadows
ACKNOWLEDGMENT from the corners,
gradually closing up over all the cen
trail barrenness of the room and shield
ing the woman who had thrown herself
despairingly across the bed.
She lay very quietly in the darkness !;
but it was the quiet of bodily ex-
haustion. She could still think, and
her thoughts were passionate multi
tude.
A month before, she had believed
herself reconciled-aye, even content
to walk the weary treadmill of linked
days and hope no more. She had
ceased to care if she grew roundshoul-
dered as other girls, and pale -and
pinched from the routine of the dusky
factory-office, from which she could
only see the sweet sunlight creeping
into the street along the forenoon's
stretch, and creeping out again upon
the gray buildings opposite, where the
afternoon shadow rose like strong
sea-tide. She had even striven to go
cheerfully to her work morning after
morning and to put into it what little
heart was left her out of all the tragic
past. She had learned to measure off
the hours by certain infallible sounds
of the city; at half-past 9, the bell
ringing for the opening of the ware
houses; at IL, the same bell for the
closing at II, the news-boys, shouting
the noon edition Cat she had a half
hours noon-time); at 2, again the ware
house bell; at 3, the early evening
paper NOW the sea-tide shadow crept
toward the third-story window; of 5,
q later edition; and at came the end
of the long day, when the whirr of ma
chinery was done and the Glands" in
the shipping-room back hushed their
jargOn and departed, when she, too,
tired-eyed and with aching chest, might
creep along to her lonesome fourth
story lodgings.
What starved, stunted existence
had been hers since she had come to
the city! With what keen anguish she
remembered the sweetness of the old,
:affluent days, past forever! For, stand
ing up to battle with the world, she
bore, besides, the awful, burdening
recollection of parents disgrace.
Death had come upon her swiftly,
'crushingly, that terrible night when
her father had cut the knot of his
'dilemma-insolvency and betrayed pub
lie trusts-with single pistol-shot and
so-escaped. She had loved him too
well to reproach him, dead, for desert
ing her-for not having prepared her,
at least, to work. But all else being
gone, she, too, had fled from the old
town and flung herself into the whirl
of the city. God only knew how hard
it had been, and she so weak, so mex
perienced! Had she been but fitted,
as men fit their sons (but not daughters,
alas y with a profession, or even n
trade This had been her only lament
in darkest hours.
Nevertheless, she had found work at
last; hard, inexorable, poorly-recom-
pensed. For every working day, a
single dollar wherewith to purchase
food and shelter, clothing and cleanli-
ness, peace and virtue, and the thou
sand trifes of life. Those who paid it,
thought it an excellent price.
And all the sitting summer she had
toiled on, silently, uncomplainingly,
only at last to lose even this foothold,
without wage or warning, at an en-
ployer's caprice.
That was fortnight since-and ever
since she had been hunting other en-
ployment. Tonight she was penniless
and in debt for rent
She wondered what would happen
now. Was it beggary or starvation ?
The river, ora charitable institution
Of the two, she chose the river.
When the shadows had conquered,
some one struck match in the long,
outer passage, and the hall gas-light
shone through the transom. Still she
lay silent and listened to the beating of
a banjo-patient and persisting-in
another apartment of the great build
Ing. The sounds Jared upon her in
fretful continuity. And she was so
tired, so hopeless, that she rose but
slowly when some one came knocking.
She rose but slowly and lit the gas she
smoothed her hair YEARLY, and stood o
second in thought. In the flash of un.
steady light, her figure was pitifully
fragile; her beauty-for beauty was not
wholly wrecked-strange awsome, with
olive-pallor, hectic-spotted and sharp
lined profile.
She opened the door, at length, and
so stood face to face with man whose
bearing and attire bespoke prosperity
Less surprised than annoyed, appar.
emily, she gave him scant welcome.
"Nataliel" he cried, reproachfully,