Indian chieftain. [volume] (Vinita, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1882-1902, 1885-07-16

/ N'tis huoMtitu tle Olu WOmNnl
!. soberly. Hes the only one loft m,
OF all had, and my heart is set on him.
] It's little can do for him now Pm old,
and my sight is piling, aud I'm no that
quick was on my feet; but it's all in
the way of Nature, he says. Them rs
sows in the spring shall reap In the
fall. and I'm to reap now, whilst he's
TO work at the sowing. A deal of trouble
I've had in my day, but no finger
touch will he let anear mo in my old
age he says Eh, but hos good lad.
May Heaven grant We a son like him,
Miss Annie, when ye've stepped down
out Of the spring-time ycrselGn
'Ycs, Jem's very good" asscnted
Annie, carolossly. Father says there
is not place anywhere around so well
kept as he keeps ours Obi harkl Isn't
that the trainP'
She sprpng to her feet, throwing
back her head and listening eagerly,
with bated breath, rais'ng an imperious
little hand to silence all other sounds.
II seemed as IL, at this spoiled darling
bidding, the very birds stopped singing.
and the leaves forbore the rustling, all
was suddenly so still Nurse Edwards
listened. too. but less intently, and the
chirping of the cricket beneath the
piazza ledge was the only sound she
/ caught.
"Hcy, what a noise ho makesP" she
sad, admiringly, rs Annie turned back
with a gesture Of disappointment III
it's them as is happiest sings loudest,
yon fellow has the best Of us all"
"Ohl VIII il neUer be five o'clockP'
cried Annie, mindful only of her i'm
patience. "This day has been a hun.
dred days long Already
"Now don't ye be in haste with
Time. my dear, said the old woman.
rcprovingly. "Yell not hurry it.
though yc fret il never so. We must
just bide. the time, my Jem saws, and
all things'll come in turn-first life,
then growth then death. Things Is
best taken natural as they come The
rose that yc forcc'll only be sooner done
blowing"
But l can't wait" the girl com.
planned, childishly. Il always want
things Immediately, and | want five
O'Clock this minute. What time can II
be, NursieP OH do say its five
! o'clock"
''It'll be nigh upon il, sure. by tho
slant of the shadows" the old woman
answered, peering out across the lawn.
''1o can look at the sun-diai yonder, If
We will" "
"Nonscnse!' rejoined Annie, con-
temptuously "As If a stupid bit of
wood and a rusty shadow kept any
count of the time the train goes by.
I'll look at the clock inside
Then We may spare yerself the
trouble, my dear.e; for the hands
stopped at five minutes to seven this
morning. exactly rs my Jcm started out
for the city; and five minutes to seven
it'll be til my Jem gets home. which
may be the night or the morrow. Ard
I've been a-thinking all the day as l sat
here how it's with me and with every
thing about me just as il is with the
old clock inside It's him that keeps
us 90 ng; and we're all run down and
stopped together when he's gone, biding
the time tlll he comes back TO right us. "
Then | wish he could come back
now and make il five O'clock" sighed
Annie. surely il must be five o'clock,
and the train has come in without my
hearing the whistle. I'll run down to
the gate and wait there. Fred can't be
long now. Goodbye, Nursie. In mve
minutes more | shall be the very hap
piest girl in all the worldr'
And before she had finished speaking
she WAS of, dislaining the road and
making herself pathless way across
the lawn; laughing dancing, bounding
along with many light spring and
airy leap and Merry twist, like mount
ain brook too impctuous TO run smooth
| ly. The old nurse smiled indulgentlv,
and, settling herself back In her chair.
went cont ntedly on with her knitting,
while the cricket again became the up
permost sound in her world, like a
homo'y accompaniment TO the single
music Of her thoughts.
Many more minutes than five went by
uncoLnted. when, suddenly. from the
direction Of the gateway. Annie again
came running, but not as she had run
before. Very direct and straight she
came Her arms were outstretched as
one who runs blindly; her face, that had
been so rosy, was white as death and
strangely set, and she flung herself
into the old woman's arms with a
great, sharp cry.
80, Nurse! o. Nurse. The train is
not in. There has been an accident. A
man going By told me. And there has
been one killed. just n ght accident!
But there was one killed. Only ore
killed, the man said. q, Nursel Il IS
Fred. | know il is Fred. As certainly
as that | am alive now, | know that It
is my darling who is dead"
And the girl burst intoa passion of
stormy weeping. and would neither be
comiorted, nor listen to ANYTHING that
her old friend said
II tell you kRoW Il Is he.m she
cried, with an agony Of conviction IN
her voice that almost carried certainty
with IL, at was like a knife through
my heart the moment the man spoke.
AT the word accident / felt that Fred
was dead, even before he said ANYTHING
more. tel you kHOiO that il is he.
as surely rs if ! saw him lying here be-
fore my eyesl'
Nay, nay, my pet my daring. my
hearts dearie!" cried the cd nurse,
clasping the girl 10 her breast and rock
ing back aud forth with her as II she
were a babe, 50 quickly does grief make
children Of rs all "How can We know?
Why borrow so sore a trouble as this?
Wait till the good Lord brings it TO yo
Himself, and eases the weight Of il by
lending His own blessed hand to the
burden What should start ye before
hand to fear itP''
"Oh! dom you sec?" Annie moaned.
"Don't you see? It is because l am so
happy that dread il. l am too hap
py. ! have never had sorrow in all
my life. Not one. / have everything
| want haven't a wish left 20 wish.
My life is as bright as the year is long.
And the happiness has got TO stop
sometime. Aren't we always being
told we must expect sorrow? That
every one has TO suiler? It isn't natural
TO be 50 happy as / am. Sorrow has
got 10 come to me, too; and / know Il