Morning journal and courier., 1884-01-05

 shorely 'cept de offerin' if ye do it heartily as unter him.
 "An' some ob deze men, dat knows how, could whitewash good, old Gran 'mudder Parkers reom- She's mazin neat, an her smoked up plas'rin' stroubles her. An some ob deze young men, dat am handy wiv tools could make DOT, little, lame, fadderless Jim sled He's so big now his mudder can't car ry him bery well in her arms, but she ceuic dror him on a sled. Oars heaps of tlngs dat we could all do tar make odders happy, if we'd des take de stroubie ter tink ob 'em an den go right ter work an do em.
 Is goin' ter try, for one, ter make as many forlorn creators happy as 1 can, Chrlsnus day an hope dat shall git so full ob iuo ter God an ter my feiler creators, so bery full ob joy, dat I shsIl shout, dat day,-de day dat habe dreaded ter habe come, cause it's de anumbersary ob my darlin's def,- Glory ter God in de highes', an on earf peace good will toward men. Let eb'ryt'ing dat habe bref praise de Lord
 Parson Jackson's exhorta.ion to those hay ing private griefs and troubles took deeper hold of Fiske than his pathetic remarks did about his daughters death; for Fiske had for years carried hidden disappointment and sorrow in his bosom, of which he had never breathed syllable to anyone, except few words to bis mother. As he passed out of the church with his friend he, was con, scieus that, in spite of himself, his thoughts
  to Gordon, he said quietly and gravely: Fl can sympathize with Jackson. I, too, have dreaded to have Christmas day come. My mother died last Christmas"
 But Fiske did not tell Gordon that he had dreaded for many years to have Christmas days come. He did nos tell him that Christ mas day was also the anniversary of another event that racked his nerves and wrung his heartstrings far more than his mothers death for there had never been anything I5 h H11f and good will, and she had attained to good old age and was both ready and willing to de- part and her son felt that his loss was her gain and this thought consoled him. But for another loss he had never found any consolation. Christmas day would be the anniversary of the marriage, to another man, of the only woman he had ever loved sufficiently to seek for wife. and to WAom he was betrothed.
 When Mary Arvine promised to marry Fiske he had every reason to believe that hls love for her was fondly and faithfully reclp rocated The last time he visited her was | in September, twelve years before the time l in which our story opens. No plightec palr ever parted more lovingly, nor with fonder hopes for the future than they did when he | left her to return home. Fiske's home was then in Maine,-hers was in western Ne" York He did not expect to visit her again | till he went on to claim her as bis bride ana bring her home with him. New Years morning was the time set for their marriage Three months seemed 8 long time to the \ lovers, and Fisk almost counted the hours as | they passed. They wrote each other very l freonently and their letters were full ot the most joyful anticipations. until the last ot ! November Then letter that he received \ from her seemed cold and formal, quite un l like her other letters. He was chilled as ] though the coldest water had been dasned over him. The moment he finished reading | I,a h l replied to her most tenderly, at the same ! time gently chiding her for her coldness anu asking for an explanation After waiting ] sufficient time for the mails to bring reply and getting none, he became almost distract ed with anxiety and disappointment He wrote her again, imploring her, if she had d particle of love left for him, to reply at once, and tell him what it all meant, or he | should go crazy.
 l Christmas day-the day that he looked for | 8 reply to his inportunete entreaties, letter l came When he took it from the pos master | he was strangely agitated. It was somehow borne in upon him that 1t had brought him no good news, and he did not-couid not l open 1t till he got home and shat himself in l to his own room.
 ] The letter was soon read. I5 did not GOV CT more than half page of note paper, pnt 1 short as 1t was, the contents nearly Killed hiu. Do you wonder? Read the letter for yourselves:
 sSPRI;SG GRcvE, N. T., Dec. p, 65. Mr. Fiste: I have alsa deciasd that can marry another man and probably before this letter reaches you sh1h be that mans wife, foH we are to be maria ohr!SI | mas morning MARY AtFiHh- Two hours after Fiske went up to his room 1 his mother rapped on his door and called ] ssClinton, Clinton, are you here! Oar 1 Christmas dinner IS waiting On receiving no response she opened the door and went | 4fTx- faS0A JRstn n 1 his he'd with letter crushed in his hand. His hair was disheveled and his face was as naIe and rigid as that of dead man. Mrs. Fiske was frightened. She had never seen her son in such condition before. She sat 1 down beside him and threw her arms around his neck t'What is 1t? What has happened to you, my son '" she asked, glaneing at the l crumpled letter. ''1eli your mothsr,-i will comfort you. Is Miss Arvine dead Do speak, Clinton
 With an effort he passed the letter to hex and replied huskily: Yes, dead to me! know; then, please go down to dinner ana leave ne alone. Never speak to me of the 1 contents of that letter; never mention her l name to me again, nor to anyone else, If you love me.''
 l Mrs, Fiske knew her son too we'll to at tempt 10 console him with words. After reading the letter she silently drew him to her bosom and kissed hIm again and again, and then fervently saying God be with you, ' she left him alone he requested.
 Late ct night, after the rest of the family had retired, she stole softly up to his room again and gently tapping on the door, This- pered ttClintop?"
 l s.What do you wish, mother2" he respond cd. without opeping his door. His voice
 sounded weak and tremulous, like feeble
 old mans.
 aMy darling son, shall not bring you up g cup of tea and something to eat?" she
 asked.
 ssNo, thank you. dear mother, he man.
 aged to say Don't sit up and worry about
 ne. Go right to bed and get all the rest you
 can. I shall be down, in the morning, as usual"
 He vas down in the morning as usual, and he went about his work as usual, but he
 surely did not look as he usually did Jake, a 1 coIored servant whom Fiske brought home l with him from the late war, said to Efrs.
 Fiake: ''I tink marsa wor berry slrk yes,
 'erdsy He look berry bad, berry pale an ole. dis rnornin',- years oler daa he did yee' 'srd'y norEin'"
 Mrs. Fiske thought as Jake did, but ste only said: s'When my son is ill he never likes to talk about it; so if l were you 1
 wouldn't say anything to him about hl5
 Iooks''
 She vas careful herself to heed her sons request, She never did mention her name 10
 him again; and never. after that night, in
 their most confidential conversations with
 each other, was there the slight
 est allusion made to his heart break-
 ing disappointment. Neither did he speak to anyone, until many years after. Of
 the resolve he made during that ever to-be
 remembered day and night of anguish.
 Fisks had told Jake and some of his neigh
 bers that he was going to New York about
 New Year's; they had not, however, the re-
 motest idea for what purpose he was going.
 He did not go to New York. but he did leave
 home He felt that he must go somewhere, that he positively must have change: so
 he avaiIed himself Of long standing invita-
 ton of an old schoolmste of his, residing in
 Massachusetts, and ran down and spent Flew
 Year's. During the day on which he arrived,
 his friend Incidentally remarked to him that
 there was 8 prospect of their having another
 railroad in that vicinity, and that 1t would pass through that town and probably through inc psrt of the town in which he resided.
 Fiske had discovered on former visit that
 there were uncommonIy fine water-priyileges on stream that passed through that neigh
 borhood that had never been utilized. except
 to run small erist-mill He felt confident