The Iola register., 1884-05-30
1--WE can no. tell The men are dig.

,, eve can not tell The men are dig
) ging! It was very deepr'
7 "Then there Is yet hope" sho said
j At once she hastened ON with Neal, th
/ baby In her arms. The men were still
: digging where the we'll had crumble,
in, the perspiration standing out upol
each forehead as they labored.
: "Can he live or breathe under al
! that earth?" she asked, with psllid lips
of man standing near. He did no
! answer, but turned away at the sight o
her agonized face, muttering an evasion
She remained there watching them
looking like statue of despair, uncon
, scious of everything but the utter horror
Of the calamity.
} The sun went down. From the grea
woods came the melancholy hoot Of thu
owl. The workmen paused! There wa
brief consultation. Then one of then
came to her. -aa
"Have you found him?" she whis
pered.
Have you found his poor dead body
Oh let me go to him."
"No. ma am, it's not that" said the
man, ''but they do say as how the vel
was almost two hundred feet. dug oui
already, and there amt a shadow oi
hope for him bein' alive, and We see,
ma am, as it's Saturday night we
thought we would rest and then DIG
again Monday morning."
Hannah was reused at last from her
stupor.
"Yet it might be that the breath still
fingered" The sentence came to her
mind.
mo. I beg you to go on. 1 will re.
turn to the house. l have little money
that l have saved; you can divide II
among anon you' but do not leave the
She then went back to the house, took
the little hoard saved for the mortgage,
and carried it out to the men. They
were idle sitting in groups.
"Ma'am, you will need the money
for the child and yourself" -
"Never mind, only commence your
work again." she said, and they began
again to work vigorously. Half an
hour passed in silence. Again they
Jagged. taS '. :
at is no use, Fam, he is buried al
ready, dead. hours ago it caves in
almost as fast as we work, the soil is so
loose here"
Hannah seized spade. ..Let me
work with you," she cried. Something
tells me that my husband lives. Take
every cent of the money, and when it
is gone you can stop, but | will work
on!" .-... ..... ,.... .s
Then. as though in reply to her.
faint, faint sound, as of a strong mans
last cry for help, comes from beneath
the mass of crumbling earth at her
feet! He had heard her brave words.
He lived. .' p
Poor Dick had just started to come
up when the well began to give way,
but ladder that he had taken down
with him leaned slantingly against the
wall, and kept much of the earth off as
he crouched in the hollow thus formed.
The foul air had caused him to fall into
state of unconsciousness from which
his wife's voice reused him, for he had
heard her last speech to the men, and
had just enough strength remaining to
cry out with all his fast-failing power.
In his suspense as to whether they
would abandon the work or not he had
gnawed leathern belt that he wore
into pieces. ....
Hannah keeps the metal clasps of the
same belt among her treasured relics to
this day. When, few moments later,
they carried him up and out into the
blessed air, they saw by the light of
their lanterns that his hair had turned
quite white, like an old mans of
eighty. -.---
He lay quietly uron his own bed
few hours later. The curious neighbors
had departed.
The early sun peeped in at the win
dows and kissed the face of baby Jack
in his cradle, softly sleeping. They
formed halo around Hannah s head as
she leaned over Richard, bathing his
temples with camphor. He was still
very faint and ill.
His heart was full of peace and hum
BILE thankfulness. He leebly tried to
kiss his wife's hand as she arranged his
pillows. All the morbid pride and dis
trust had left him forever. Full of this
blessed confidence, this child-like hu-
ilty, he slept. .........
The sound of bells awakened him. 1t
came from the rude little Swedish
church of the settlement.
"What are those bells ringing for?"
he asked.
They come from the church, sup
pose, dear Richard. 1t is Sunday. You
know" answered Hannah, her eyes full
OF tears.
"Oh! Hannah" said Dick, "can You
forgive me? read Dennison's letter.
1 used to be jealous of him. and began
to think they might influence you
against me. When Mr.. Lawrence, at
the planing-mill. asked me to go down
into the well he was having dug. did |
not care what happened to me, and so
went. although knew it was very dan
gerous. Can you forgive me, my own
my wife, for ever doubling Your
staunch devotion to me?'
Her arms were round his neck for re-
ply, and their lips met in kiss more
fraught with deep feeling. more earnst |
with love now sanctitied by trial than
any they had ever known as lovers in
long past DAYS at the old homestead.
Eca katherine Ctapp, in Chicago
Standard.