Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1886-10-21

| me permission to come to you; but II In
your heart there is no response to my
words. silence is the only answer |
desire"
Clara's answer was very brief. 1t con-
sisted of but one word Come"
Henry Milford waited very patiently
for week, after sending his important
letter. But as day after day passed and
no answer came he considered his suit as
lost. and. in despair. concluded to accept
an invitation from an uncle to visit him
on his ranch in California.
| Robert Allison, an intimate friend and
a,young lawyer, had tried in vain to dis
suade him from this step: for he knew no
reason why Henry should become moody
and Respondent all at once, and throw up
| his hopes of business success and promo
ton and start off to California. But his
arguments were unavailing. Henry
would 60
Where shall forward your letters ?'
asked Allison, as they shook hands al the
station.
"There'll be none to forward was the
ungracious reply.
"But shall want to write to you my
self. Where shall address you ?"
"I'll write you after get settled" was
the surly answer.
Henry turned abruptly away and
stepped into the car. A second later he
turned back, and grasping his friends
hand said in husky voice:
"Good- bye, old fellow, and forgive my
rudeness. hardly know what | am
saying, but | won't forget that you have
been a true friend to me in these dark
days"
Good bye." responded Allison. trying
to speak in a CHEEKY tone. You are a
little bilious now, but the free life OF a
rancher, in the glorious climate of Cali
forny' will bring you out all right.
shall expect glowing letters from you
soon"
Il wonder what ails the fellow he So
liloquized, as he went home.
As he entered his boarding-house, the
servant girl met him in great hurry.
"Oh Mr.. Allison" she exclaimed,
hore's letter for Mr.. Milford. Can't
you get it to him before he goes away P'
Hes already gone, Jennie; but I'll
| send it TO him."
Weeks passed, and Henry Milford
seemed in no hurry to fulfill his promise
of writing. When the letter did come. it
was breezy one, telling of their happy,
unconventional life, but contained no
word about himself. 1t closed with these
| significant words:
| You need mention me to none of my
friends. have done with civilization.
| You may be sure that Allison lost no
time in replying. The envelope in which
he enclosed both his reply and the dainty
letter of the unknown, bore across one
end the words: at not called for in ten
days, return to Robert Allison, Attorney
at Law,-Park Row, New York"
A bright, beautiful, May day was draw
ing to a close as travelling carriage drew
up before the hospitable door of John
Milford, stock farmer, California. The
| occupants were portly middle aged
Englishwoman, wrapped in various top
coats" and shawls, and a young man who
seemed to be in great pain, and was evi
IDENTIFY unable to alight."
"'Ello, ERE, cahn't you lend US 'apd?"
shouted portly individual to the herds
man, who stood near, looking curiously
at the stranger. - 'Ere's a young man
that as broke is leg. Cahn't you give
i'm lift?"
John Milford himself answered the
summons, and appearing, babe the boys
bring the stranger in. The elder gentle
man, who gave his name as "Holiver
'Awtborne, of Hwy Lodge, 'Ertfordshire,
Hengand, made all due explanations.
You see e would 90 eaping over the
beck, and tell in. e couldn't get up; so
Tummas, ere, and |. we 'elped i'm into
the phmtan. Then we came ere, for we
cauldnt go on wi the poor man groanin',
and we, not KNOWN but ed broke both is
legs, you know. Ell ave to ave doe
tori
doctors are not SO easy to get in these
Higgins said a bystander, "but here's
old Peter; he's natural bone setter
He'll fix i'm up all right"
Old Peter, rough as he looked, proved
both skiliul and gentle. He said that the
injury was severe sprain, not serious,
but it might prove tedious. and require
absolute rest for weeks. Mr. Hawthorne
did not hear this statement with equaniml-
ty.
Concluded Tomorrow