The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, 1885-02-06
.pressiSa swept over her f.ss th.s / did

"Oh, yes! listcnzI will tell you!"
"One chopper was kind to me; he said
he loved mc-loved me !" she repeated SOL
emnly, with atender thrill in her voice
that explained all. "And he was 90 kind
to me, as if had been queen. It was
he, too, madam, that did teach me to
speak 30 we'll, for he was a Yankee man,
she added proudly; ''and you see I do
speak much better!"
I assented: "Where is he now?n ]
saked:
ooh, know not! I know not!a she
cried, rocking herself back and forth and
wringing her hands.
That wicked man and woman took
me away one night; they said that he,
my Eloi, had sent for me to go to meet
him; far; far off; and when we found him
not they mocked and laughed at my
pain; oh, I could kill them; liars!
beasta!" The last words were Only d
hiss Of rage, and she stopped short,
choked with passion:
''Helenore," said, s'why did they de-
ceive you 30? What had you done to
"What had / done to them? Noting.
iaotingj but they hated me like mine
inoder do and would not that should
be happy"
Here she paused and sudden re-.
vulsion of feeling seemed to sweep over
her.
''None are ever kind to Helenore, {"
she said sadly-''none but you and
him." Then lifting my hand to her lips
she kissed it reterently and made tile
sign of the cross.
was deeply touched; I drew the girl
to me and said, with tears on my cheeks {:
4, Stay with us, Helenore, and try to
be happy again"
"What? say you SOP" she cried. her
eyes wide with wonder. "Then, now;
you do indeed forgive like God" And
she began to weep naturally and softly,
shedding those tears which always re-
lieve the heart.
She was very tired, and when re.
minded her, presently, that her little
chamber and the pretty white bed were
waiting, she smiled for the first time.
"Ah," she said almost brightly, ''it
can not be that / shall die now, and per.
haps my Eloi will find me, though /
could not find him."
Her words proved prophetic. One
night, few weeks after her return, we
were startled by the drumming Of a
banjo under Helenore's window, soon
joined by lusty voice bawling out right
heartily some foolish ditty We hear in
the streets.
I sprang UP at once. "Jack," said 1,
'that is Helenore's Eloi; I know it'll"
I went quickly to her room-she had
not yet retired for the highland when
I opened her door she was standing like
statute by her bed; she turned, as I
spoke her name, and with look Of &C.
stacy, pointing to the window, whis.
pered:
"Eloi-Eloi!"
eyes, said 1; ego down and ask him
to come in"
"Wait, !" "wait," she said mysterious.
"; and seizing her "music"2the paper
horn-she leaned fer out of the window
and blew blast upon blast of her most
unearthly strains, which, added to the
roar of her lovers voice, produced an
effect indescribably strange and ludi-
crous.
We concluded that she had heard
those sounds before, as otherwise, at
the first blast, he certainly would have
taken to his heels and run away.
Elias Rogers, for that was the young
mans name was in truth yankee
man, as Helenore claimed, but he had
lived much among the Canadians, and
spoke their language like his own,
We found that he was honestly in
love with our Helenore; and rough and
coarse as he seemed, he doubtless had q
romantic sympathizing nature, or he
could not have understood or appreci-
ated her as he evidently did. We were
relieved to find him in every way so
worthy of her, and so suited to make
her happy.
And now my story is soon finished.
Helenore left us again, but this time
with happy smiles and the hope of see-
ing us very often. In short, while I
write, she sits ont on the piazza with
her own baby in her arms, and nv Ned
grown now to be quite big boy
leaning on her lap.
She is telling him what he shall find
when he comes to see her md Eloi in
the woods where they are chopping-
birds eggs to add to his collection.
"Oh, SO many kinds! but they will only
take one from each nest, because the
mother bird would he sad and grieve."
Her heart is tender as of yore, but it
never aches now except for others
woes.-[B Belle G. Greene, in the Cont
nenk