The Washington critic., 1885-08-03
TWILIGHT.

as the cool night wind famed the EN-.
bers, telling stories about camp life in
the Ad rondacks, when heard our
guide, a strong fellow, heave sigh
that seemed to cone from the depths
of his heart.
"Why, JIM" | asked, whats the |
matter? Are you tired after yonr long
tramp today"
mo, Miss Anna" he answered.; "but |
have been thinking of a story myself,
and it is one that will make your heart |
ache"
"Come, tell it to u.s." we all eX.
claimed; and sfter little coaxing he
began:
"Well, You must know it happened
ten years ago, when | was only boy;
but | often think OF it as | sit by the
campfire and wonder II, after all, it
were not dream.
zone morning in early spring, as
was rowing down the lake, noticed II
fire on the other shore, just opposite,
and, thinking some careless guide had
left campfire smoldering, went
across and landed. had not gone
back into the woods very far when |
was confronted by tall, stern-faced
man, holding by the hand the lOveliest
little girl had ever seen. She seemed
too delicate Il blossom to stay very long
in the wild woods.
81 supposed the man saw how sur
prised | was, as he asked me some
trilling question about the springs on
the lake, then waited for me to go.
But | was not going to do any such
thing, and began playing with the little
girl. | was only fourteen years old,
and boy-like, was attracted by her
pretty face.
Before the morning was over
found ont that tho man had come to
stay, and was going to build log hut
to live in all winter. His name, so he
told me, was Alden, and his little girls
name was Twilight. Rather outlandish, d,
thought, but some how it just suited
her. lie would not tell where he came
from, but | could see he was gentle
man, and used to better living than we
have.
81 suggested that would stay and
help him. He accepted my offer, ask
ing me not to tell at the village that
any stranger was down the lake. At
night | went home, told father that |
had an all summers job, bought some
nails and provisions, and early next
morning came down the lake again.
1--WE worked hard, and it was not
: long before we had a nice little log house
made, with two rooms in it. You have
seen it many times, know, and very
likely have played house in it; but /
never want to see it again, it is too full
Of memories. Little Twilight was an
old.fashoned child, always wanting to
help her father aud me. She would
. stand on a bench by the table and wipe
the tin plates after each meal, all the
time asking me the queerest questions
about Heaven and God, telling me to be
good boy and meet her with Jesus by
and by. One day her father overheard
Z her, and, with groan, he caught the
! little one to his heart, begging her moi
to talk that way, unless she wanted tC
break his heart. | never heard her ask
! ing any more questions.
t "IIow she did love that old mountair
4 yonder! She would sit for hours at q
I time watching the lights and shadow;
4 play across it. She called it 'Twilight'E
Q Mountain, and to me the name ha
0 clung to it ever since.
+ 81 can see the little figure now, seate(
I OH a little wooden chair made for her
n with her hands folded on her lap ant
her face, with such far-away look OF
it, turning toward the old mountain, as /
it were some living creature.
"After tea, during the long summe
1 twilight, we would sit by the fire, sh
in her fathers arms, her head on hi
e shoulder, and listen while / told lon:
IL stories, told me by my father. Sh
!, would listen quietly, sometimes raisin!
It her hand to stroke the stern cheel
r above her, then looking into his fac
g until, overcome by sleep, she Woul
y sink back and slumber in his arms. ii
g would sit late into the night holding TIL
d childish form, fearing to move lest h
= should disturb her.
e 80 the happy hours giided by, unit
a one day III early autumn noticed TWl
J. light did not seem AS well as usual
Is Sue never complained, but did not ole
h to help me, and would sit watching tn
n great mountan with such dreamy loo
T. in her eyes that my heart sank With
me. noticed, too, she was thin, an
It her face had the same peaked look IN
I, little sisters had before SHE died.
,e felt sure she could not stand the sever
2, winter weather we have, and one da
C. told her father so. Perhaps was to-
d rough in telling him, for | shall neve
le forget the look Of anguish that cam
st across his face, nor the low, muttere
ye words, % God, not my Twilight, too!
III "SOOn after lie took the child in Ii
G arms, aud they sat long time so, tall
" ing. | could catch Il word now an
h then, rs | went about my work. 'Ner
z well, papa, only tired Then, as l.
g, bowed his head and groaned, Don
il grleve, papa
ne After that he WAS sterner than eve
4, hardly speaking u word except TO It
s. child, and would sit for hours watchin
$, her.
le II wanted him to send for old Moth,
"a Stanton, capital nurse; but he scoile
re at the idea, and broke ont in bitt'
be words AGAINST Him whom, | am sur
of doeth all things for our good. lie sal
h. God had taken all from him, and
lie was not surprised that even his bal
is must go.
ip II have always been glad we hi
or such a fine autumn that year. III
tn leaves turned the finest colors, al
ed 'rwilght's Mountain was one hui
O. bouquet. Every day when the 81
m shone warm and bright we would re
yo across and walk up and down the beac
hs breathing the fresh breeze that car
er sweeping down the lake. 1t sesm
nut strange to me that it did not bri
hoo 10 10 In