St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1886-08-26
A LOVE STORY.

some cruel, hungry tiger, we had no
brands with which to scare it off.
In Bettina's cottage, where she sat
and spun while her childish grandpa
rents nodded in their chairs beside the
fireplace, all was as clean as it could
have been in a palace but she had
hard work to fill those two old mouths
and her own also. There was no one
else to do it.
The lady of the great house bought
her fax, and paid we'll for it. But, af-
ter all, Bettina had but her two hands;
and two little brown hands cannot do
all the worlds work. | used to say to
myself that the time should come when
Bettina should not work at all-when
| would work for both, and for the old
people also. That was to be when we
were married. Bettina and had been
betrOthed two years. We were be-
though | had striven with all my
strength.
"Wait patiently" Bettina said to
me sometimes. ''What does it matter7
We love each other let us be content
But could not be content. Others
who were as poor as we married, and
left their native land together to seek
better fortunes elsewhere. Bettina
would gladly have shared my fate,
whatever it might have been, but heI
old grandparents bound her to her cot
tage and her birthplace.
As for me, felt that if | would ever
win Bettina | must leave Savoy and go
to America, where SO many of our
country people had already gone, and
whence they wrote letters that made
our hearts beat with hope for the flu
ture. In that happy land l might
realize my dreams. told Bettina so,
and though she wept, she said
"Go. Go, Bernard, and | will pray
for you. 1t is all girl can do"
At last | had money for the voyage.
/ had saved it little by little for two
long years, and now the final hour for
parting had come.
at is that we may be with each 9th
er always that we part now" said.
Her tears fell over my cheek. We
pressed each other in long embrace.
All, if only time could have stopped in
his flight at that moment, leaving us
in each others arms. At last | tore
myself away, and, blinded by my
tears, set off upon my journey.
| had no fear that Bettina would for
get me. | knew that the rich young
farmer who so often rode many miles
to see her, lOnged for her love and
woOed her with all the art he had but
Bettina loved me, and love is adaman-
tine. Ali how little did know of the
future at which L then peeped through
the golden glasses of hope and love.
We crossed the sea in safety. |
stood, at last, in a strange land and
among strange people; but L found
them not unkind. l found work at
once. Living as we Savoyards live at
home, l spent little. Week by week
the little heap in my mOle-skin pouch
grew greater. l was glOriOusly happy.
wrote joyful letters to Bettina. She
answered me as hopefully. 1t is little
to tell, but, all it was so much to feel
and to dol
A year passed by twelve long
months. One more year and she
would come to me. The months would
slip away like the beads upon the rOs-
airy of one who prayed for blessings.
should press my lips to hers-all
would be forgotten but our meeting,
and while lived the old people should
share our happiness.
With such thoughts as these in my
mind entered the great factory where
/ worked one day. L said to myself as
l threw off my jacket:
"At nOOntime | will write to BETH
na."
What do we know of noon time at
dawn2 What do we know of night at
midday 2 Nothing.
| remember thinking this. | re-
member crossing the long room. L re-
member the sudden flash and crash,
and the Oaths of men, and girls
scream. After that nothing more I'M
til sense of pain awakened me and /
found myself lying in the dark, with my
own hand, cold and clammy, lying in
a great warm, soft hand that held it
very tenderly.
l tried to rise. / could not.
"Where am ~ said, and my voice
sounded low and hOarse in my own
ears. "WhO is this ?"
at is the DOCTOR" said voice. "Be
calm, my friend"
"Is it nightP" | asked.
at is night" said the voice.
"Why do you not light a lamp?"
He made no reply.
"What has happened ?"
"DO you not remember 2"
81 remember a noise"
alt was an explosion" he said, after
a pause. "You were hurt. There
were many killed outright"
Doctor" said, sis it night ?"
at is night" he said solemnly.
"But only for me-" | said. 81 know
it. | am smitten blind.n
"Try to be calm, my FRIEND" he
whispered. "'It is hard-but try to
bear it,"
What can we do but bear that which
God sends upon us9 But l did not
bear it well. Can you wonder? All
was gone-all my hope of life, and
even all that l had won in the past
year. Some wretch had stolen the lit
tie mOleskin pouch from my bosom. l
was a beggar and blind. | prayed to
die, but l lived, and at last l grew
strong again.
One day, as l sat by the hospital
window, l formed a resolution. | said
to myself: L can at least be brave
enough to spare Bettina something :;
and | will do it though my sufferings
should be increased by the act.
know that if she knew the truth she
would grieve bitterly and remain true
to me. l knew that if | were sent
home, as the doctors say l might be,
she would be constant forever-she
would even marry me, and try to feed
me as she does her helpless ones. That
shall never be. | will send her word
that am dead, and then when she has
grieved awhile youth will triumph /;
she will marry the young farmer who
oves her so truly, and is good as well
as rich, and she will only remember
poor Bernard tenderly as one who low
ed her IN the past, and young Bernard
is really dead. This Hind hnnnnr l.