The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1884-02-22

Two members were talking together
in an antc.room.
BEST speech o fthe session! 1 never
believed there was 30 much in that lazy
fellow Pelham"
at is all his wife's doings. She has
brought out his dormant powers"
The shadows are passing over the wall
again. | bend forward eagerly. What
is il? What a blurred looking pictured
1t is raining last, pouring, with the hiss
ing sound of rain on pavement. 1t is so
dark that | can only Just distinguish a
narrow alley, such a den of pestilence as
Shoreditch can best show.
On the right stands a public house. /
see faint lights through the chinks of its
dirt-enGrusted shutters, and here loud
tones and evil words from within.
A man reels to the door, and looks
out; nothing but rain and black mud,
and a horrible stencil from the rushing
cutters. he shuts the door with an oath
and goes in again.
Take care, missusw
A faint giimmer from q lantern shows
me two figures picking their way
through mud and filth-a rough.looking
man, whose old fur cap is drawn low
over his brow, and behind him a wonan,
dressed in the coarse gown and white
cap OF an English Sister of Mercy; a lit
tie black wooden cross on her breast,
and q long cloak round her. The face on
which the yellow light shines, is homely.
with = slightly, worn expression, and
| eyes full of kindly sweetness.
81 am very glad to have arrived" she
says cheeriully, shutting her cotton UNI
brella. and about to step into tue house.
"A man fiom within pushes her back
| roughly but not unkindly,
"Do you know what o undertake.
MISUSE" he says. Five of em-two
brothers, wives, and a child. And it's
black smallpox"
I snow; let me passl Thank you for
/! your warning" she answered gently.
The mar mutters something and draws
back.
She goes in.
/ suppose some days, even weeks
must have passed in my dreams, for :
awoke to find my little circular picture
fnll of daylight.
1t is the same alley, but a narrow
pathway along it is swept clean and dry,
nnd here and there strewn with straw.
At the door of the public
house stands a little group of people
surrounding the sister of Mercy. Two
of them rs if their hearts were too iuil
of speech; on the arm of one hangs a
weaklw woman, the other stands alone.
They press her hands, one man raises
the rough sleeve of her gown and kisses
its hem, with tears raining down his
CHI eks.
Kindly words she says to all, Il little
practical advice little exhortaIion. They
listen as il she were H saint from heaven,
and then she goes on her way.
OnaOld man eXClalins as she dlSap-
pears: well, if there be Il God, He will
hear our blessings on that there Sister,"
The shadows gathered so quickly over
my picture that | hardly saw her to the
end ofthe street. Iieant my head on my
hand and tried to mako outthese visions,
bnt | seemed strangely unable to fix my
thoughts.
Exceptional cases, nothing but ex-
ceptjonal cases." l heard myself mutter,
and the words half aroused me. | f.lt
for my pencil TO make another memo
randum, when my attention was again
arrested.
s. g q y Il ) 3
Shadows rose up one after another
Ike thin curtains from my magic circle,
and q new scene presented itself to my
gaze.
A charming boudour, furnished with
every luxury, the walls hung with Grim
son silk, full OF pictures and cabinets OF
precious china. A white bearskin rug
before the fire, on which was seated a
young lady, who leaned her arms on the
lap ofan older wonan reposing in a deep
armchair.
They were very like each other, but
it was doubtful whether the elder lady
colld havn been SO lovely.as her gold
haired child.
The girl held out to her mother a
closely written letter, saying in a broken
voice "Mother, I want you to see what
I have written to him."
Her lips smiled bravely' while the
tears were streaming UNDECIDED down
her cheeks.
The mother took her letter. 1 seemed
to be reading with her eyes, for l heard
no voice, yet l knew what that letter
contained:
"My DEAREST HARRY: Your lette,
came TO me this morning, ard it is SC
dif1ica!t to answer that l hope you will
be patient with me. We have known
each other go long, and loved each 9TH
er 80 dearly, that it grieves me bitterly
to refuse to marry you. Yes, dearest. i,
is indeed to refuse you that I write, and
perhaps you will think me hard and pc.
dantic for my reasons, and perhaps un.
feeling and unkind. Oh, do not think
so, for | have been crying all the time
that l hare been writing this, and ]
goes to my very heart to grieve
you SO. And nust /, need I, tell you
why? Harry, if you do not grow more
steady, you will break my heart. l
have tried to believe what you say, that
l could save you. l am only a girl, and
: very full Of faults. l could not hear oil
my husband gambling, or see him help
less from drink without terror, disgust
horror. / dare not, Harry; your sal.
walton is in higher hands than mine
, De not lean on a broken reed. We
> have no strength in ourselves. l an
, doing this-I am sending you away from
l love you, my darling-l love you a.
[ know that you love me. Do not try
to see Inc, or to alter my determination,
for 1t cannot be altered. Good bye, my
!, darling. I will pray for all Gods bless
: ings on your head. Goodbye, Good
bye, "MAUDE."
Then the shadows stole llngeringl,
over the circle, folding it softly out 0
| sight.
Again I must suppose a lapse of time
perhaps years. IL is war time, anxiety
and trouble are brooalng re- the land
The shadows fit past. 1t is the same
. ASbihs "AetA ~ S.uie LSotSs, pue uili7l
emily occupied. Dressed in deep mourn
ing, mother and daughter have beer
picking lint. A little packet of letters
| lies Oil the table and low sobs burst nov
f and then from Maude.
There lies her own letter. worn an6
, yellow and old. 1t was found in hi
breast. and sent home with a lock o
! his chestnut hair, accompanied by a let
ter IRON his Colopei-full of bitter grie
for the young officer whom everyone
had loved, the steadfast, the best, The
} bravest, the most Jealous, whose intiu
rnce had raised the whole tone of hi: