The Middlebury register and Addison County journal. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1883-1885, 1883-03-23

L VIII IlTOW OIL lne SndChlto' ho
God hears me, l will be a different
man. ] cannot bring my darling back,
1 cannot live my life over and fulfill
the VOWS L made her at the altar,-O
God, would that l could-but l can do
what she would wish me to do if she
could speak to me. 1 will never touch
liquor or dice again, no, never, never,
never"
Pacing nervously to and fro, Myron
thought of the lonely, loveless life
before him. He was firm in his resolve
to break loose from all degrading asso-
Citations, but it occurred to him that, If
he registered his solemn VOW on paper,
it would be an ever-present reminder
of the pledge.
81 will put it down in black and
white" he said, "and it shall never
leave my body"
So he drew out little drawer in the
table, wherein his wife had kept her
writing materials, and rummaged
among its contents for suitable
paper. The sight of letters inscribed
with her dear name, and a glimpse
now and then of her familiar hand
writing, almost overpowered him. lie
caught sight of the wished-for paper,
and drew it out from beneath pile of
envelopes. Another sheet came with
it,-a jagged torn leaf, apparently from
an account book or diary,-and it was
covered with Retta's dainty chirogra-
ply. Instinctively he began to read.
Soon he flushed and choked, and, when
he had finished, the leaf fell from his
nerveless hand, his head dropped, and
he groaned,-
"Oh, wretched man that am! May
God forgive me for my cruelty to that
sainted woman"
This is what he read:-
81 must tell my grief to some one or
something. This continual repression
is killing me. So let me pour my
trouble out on the bosom of my diary,
since 1 can conlide it to no human
breast. How can L look calmly on and
see my darling husband going to ruin?
How can / bear his Indifference, his
harsh words, his utter disregard Of
my counsel? o Myron, Myron, if you
but knew that wife's affection is
beyond all price. If you but realized
your precarious condition, and the duty
you owe to yourself, to me, and to
your God! Night and day 1 pray for
thee, and night and day my heart
aches, oh, so bitterly. 1 am alone,
alone in this desolate country, for the
staff on which 1 leaned has failed me.
My Father in heaven, help me to en-
dure."
1t was like message from the dead
to Myron, and it filled his heart with
anguish. The room grew dusk, but
he did not move. A man could not
live in such misery, he duly thought
He did not hear some one try the
door, which was still locked, nor did
he notice the light steps that passed
around the side of the house, to the
kitchen entrance.
"Myron," soft voice spoke, "Myron
are you here?"
The man started as if struck by an
electric shock, and looked up. Stand
ing just within the room, and bending
forward to peer into the gathering
darkness, was figure strangely like
Retta's. Was she come back to re
proach him for his cruelty?
"Surely that is you, over there ir
the chair" the voice continued, and thu
figure came nearer, "but it is so darl
that can't half see."
Those matter-of-fact tones, that
tangible shape,-they could not belong
to denizen Of the spirit world. CoulC
, it be Retta herself? Retta, alive ant
unframed? Just as Myron asked him
| self this question, while he still stare,
{ at the advancing figure, hand wa
laid upon his shoulder,-a warm
t flesh-and-blood hand,-and Myron
filled with sudden, ecstatic happiness
| caught his wife to his breast, as sh
exclaimed
r "You dear boy! why don't you spea.
to me?"
t For few moments, he could nc
e command his voice. He could onl
hold Retta in a close embrace, an
a shower kisses upon her brow an
t cheek and lips, while his frame shool
1 with emotion.
4 And she, touched and surprised b
q his unwonted demonstrativenes'