The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1885-12-24

merry hearleG little cOmrade, with
the fresh cheeks and ringing laugh
who never complained OF toll, oil
care, or poverty; who was Away;
rich enough to give kind words, and
looks, and little acts of love. Kitty
the sweet, true woman who haC
aiken his heart from his breast
Dying! He staggered back little
AID leaned against the wall. Their
he knew that some one had put &
glass of water to his lips and felt
the wind blowing on him from the
open door.
=
kitty
But she does not stir to answer
him, lying so quiet on her pillow
dark lashes resting on the wasted
cheeks and her little thin hands
folded against her bosom. The
wide, lofty room is full of narrow
white beds; nurses are gliding about
in their neat uniform, with a soft
murmur OF talk, and Jack, pale,
| haggard and travel worn, is stand
ing by Kitty's bedside. Here, in
this haven of waits and strays, he
has found her at last. His search
is ended and he stands now, with q
breaking heart, looking down at the
little face so still and grave that
used to welcome him with such
happy smiles and bushes. He
stoops at last and lays his lips on
her clasped fingers, and her eyes
too tranquil-ah, too tranquil! IN
close and meet his own.
"Ah, my poor boy, my poor old
Jack! SO you have Gomez She
clasps his strong, brown hand be
tween her own and lays her cheek
against it with a smile of deep con
tent. 81 knew God would hear me-
l prayed so earnestly to see you
once before-before die
"Oh, Kitty, Kitty!" He can say
no more for tears; he buries his
face in the pillow, his hoarse,
dreadful sobbing shakes the little
bed. Then, too, her own tears flow
silently down her wasted cheeks.
She makes no sound or murmur of
complaint, but her frail hand
smooths and touches his bowed
head from time to time with ten
derness beyond all speech. After
awhile he lifts his tear stained, an
guished face, looks at her with eyes
in which all the old light seems
quenched forever. Then she speaks
to him, her voice scarcely louder
than a whisper in its heart piercing
tenderness:
Dear, best Jack-kind, kind,
good boy! But l knew you would
come. How did it happen, how did
you fad me so far away?"
Il followed you" he answers, in
low stammering tone. 81 came
. from New York, I knew 1
should find you. Oh, God, 1 little
dreamed it would be here.
Never mind how 1 came. FL. Oh,
Kitty! and you left me! you
left me. Do you know that my
heart is broken?-it Is broken, dearl
Do you believe it now?"-with a
great heart-rending sOb-"nOw,
when 1 tell you again you were all
to me woman or angel can be to
man. Will you believe it, Kitty
now-at lastP'
"Poor Jack - she says with some
thing like the ghost of her old girl
ish smile. 81 am not much to love
now, am 1? There is very little left
of Kittyr'
mo good looks" he answers,
slowly. mo health, no joy, no
strength, no brightness, but all that
is worth anything on earth to mel
And you speak of dyingP Then 1
will too. L can't live, Kitty, l have
no use for life!'
''Do you love me like that? Is it
really true?' Her dark eyes widen
with a sort of childish wonder.
"Did you come all this long way to
find me because you love meY'
because l could not live without
you. Because 1 will not live. Do
you think there is anything now l
care for? Why should l try to
live?"
"But you are so young, DEAR" she
says, pitifully. "The world is all
before you-where to choose"
"My world is here" laying down
his face on her hands again. "My
only world! Kitty, whatever hap
pens, oh, at least, you will marry me
now? You will let me have the
one poor comfort to call you my
wife, if only for day, an hour. L
know you never loved me, Kitty, l
don't speak of that. don't ask
tor it"
ooh, hush, dear, hushr' she
whispers gently, faint color steals
over her sweet, worn face. II loved
you always-from that first mo-
ment in the dark lonely strickland
when I sent you from me, and when
l left you without word or sign
always, always, every day and hour.
And 1 was glad to die. 1 would
not take your pity, jack" with
flash of the old pride, land life
seemed nothing without your love!"
'But with my love, Kitty?' he
says, passionately; "with my lover
81 think it would be heaven,
dear" she answers, very low. Her
eyes droop away from his and the
color deepens in her cheek. make
me your wife, shall be glad to be
your wife, no matter for how short
a time. Oh, Jack, if God would
let me live! Perhaps-perhaps he
will"
So they are married, while the
setting sun streams rediy in and
the sunset bells are ringing.
x x
About a month ago Mr.. Jack
Tremaine sailed for Europe with
his wife, a lovely brunette named
Kitty, who has fine soprano voice
and a weakness for struggling young
chorus singers and poor musicians
generally. Rumor says that he
married her on her deathbed and