Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1885-01-12


less branches of the trees.
The child shuddered as she listen
ed to it's moan.
ssI am quite sure l heard it, man.
ma. Suppose any one lwere out on
such night. 1t would be dreadful.
Let me open the door moment
just moment p
And, without waiting for the refus-
al trembling on the mothers lips, she
darted forward and threw open the
great outside door.
In another instant the bell sentsa
sharp peal through the house, for on
the very threshold lay PROSTATE
body, already half buried in the
shrouding snow.
Five minutes later, and the lad had
been carried to sofa, and restora-
tives given him.
"Will he live, mamma? Do you
think he will live?"
But, in answer to her question, the
lids slowly lifted themselves, and the
great black eyes rested wonderingly
on the child's face, bending so anx-
iously over him.
Had the death he thought SO near
indeed overtaken him, and was this
heaven he had reached?
He feared to wake from his dream,
and find himself again hopeless, and
starving and cold.
With long-drawn sigh he closed
his eyes, only to find the fascination
of the present overcome him, and i'm
pei him to again gaze upon his mar
velous surroundings.
But the wonder only deepened
when the reality was brought home
to him-when he discovered that it
was life, not death, and earth, not
heaven, and that he was not to be
driven out again into the cold and
bitter night.
Through its long, silent hours he
lay motionless in this warm resting
place, picturing, in the darkness, the
child's face, until it became streotyp-
ed on heart aud brain.
The next day he told his story. He
was poor lad, orphaned and friend
less.
"They discharged me from my
last place." he said, "because / car
ried book about with me, and the
boss said it would teach me to dream
instead of work. / was only trying
to;learn something in my idle minutes,
though / couldn't find much time, and
l didn't take my employers. How
ever, he was hard, stern man, and
bade me go. l started West. The
little money l had gave out. The
storm overlook me. 1 struggled on
as best could, until I grew faint,
and sick. Somewhere in the distance
I saw light. I struggled toward it.
You know the rest. Now l am
strong and we'll again, the storm is
over, and can only thank you in a
few poor words for your generous
kindness, and go on my way"
"Papa will be home this after
noon," answered the child. "He is
the owner of all the mills about here.
If you would like, | will ask him to
give you place; and there is a
school at night for the hands, so you
can study, too.'
ssIf / would like !"
1t was all he said, but little Helen
Hawthorne needed no other words.
She knew that the great lump in his
throat had choked his utterance, and
that he had turned away ashamed, to
hide the tears.
The next week saw her promise full
filled, and Alex Vernon stood once
more man among men. He found
place in the night school, too.
Nor did his young patroness forget
him. In some way she discovered
the books he needed, and lent them
to him, until he grew to associate hel
with every good thing of his new life.
One morning she sent for him.
ST am going to Europe with mann
ma, Alex she said, to be gone a
great many years. When 1 come
back hope to find you man-per-
haps papa's overseer. l wanted to
tell yon that if you wanted any books
from the library, l would leave this
key with you, and you might come ur
and get Them"
The sunlight was streaming full on
, her face and the gold of her hair, as
she spoke, but the boy, listening, q
dark mist seemed to roll between
them. She was going away for years
she who had saved him from death,
or worse than death.
The next minute she felt just lit
tie hurt, as, with single word OF
thanks, he took the key and hurried
, from her presence.
She could not know that he went
out TO throw himself, face downward.
on the ground, and sob out like a
very child his hearts bitterness.