Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1886-02-17

must part for the present, but better
times would come, aad they would
never forget each other; how he put
her away from him gently and bade hel
hope on, as he would to the end, and,
come what may. they should meet again
Then without a word to the mill
owner, looking to the last on the treas
ure he left, John March, the manager
was gone.
Gone to seek out fresh work, alole
missing the charge he had liked to thinl
of at her school; dreaming now ant
then of something to be done for her
and rousing up to the remembrance
that there was no longer any one de
pendant upon him, no longer any ont
to work for.
When one fixed idea takes possession
Of man it is strange how it grows and
hardens, and becomes the moving prin
ciple Of his life. All the changes tha
have taken place, since John Marcel
the manager left him, have but thick.
ened the mist that hangs between the
millOwner and his kind. ''All theSt
weary months. years." thinks the little
one who watches him, sometimes sor
rowfuIly, shave but made him harder
as well as older"
His white head is whittier; there is q
stoop in his shoulder, there Is a queru.
lous infirmity about his speech, and hi:
walk is unsteady and weak. But il
ever he was the potent head of the firm
the great man, bearing a wide-known
Dame, he is now more so.
In her seat at the fireside, silent and
meditative, Emmy has no thought now
of loving him or making him love her
once she tried, but all his heart was
wrapped in his great name. He brought
before her husband, whom he willed
her to accept, to whom he offered heI
pompOuSly rs one who had a right 10
do 1t; but Emmy laid her head upon
her hands, and said quietly that she
would die first.
He takes out his watch and winds it;
he glances at the fire, and murmurs
that it is chilly; he says it is bedtime,
and Emmy goes up to him, and puts
her lips to his cheek, mechanically, with
the customary good night.
He SITS there awhile muSing. All
is still and secure about him; but who
knows how thick the clouds are getting
over L is head, or how soon they shall
burst down upon him and overwhelm
him? All the while he sits there they
are darkening; all the while he lays un-
conscious in his bed they are covering
the SKY as they do in June before a
thunderstorm. A little bit of blue re-
mains, faint and lessening; when that
IS gone let him beware.
Another day, with its fresh load of
work for the workman. another dawn
over the earth. A great blow has
stricken the millowner; shortly, those
who look down the list of bankrupts
will see the well-known name he WAS
SO proud of, give him a word of sur
prise and compassion, and pass on about
their own affairs. And if you so into
the great mans bedroom, you will see
that there is 10 more blue sky for him.
Stretched on his bed he lies, helpless
and speechless, and one-half Of him is
dead.
A sad time in that house, a sad time
for little one who watches at his bed
side. She thinks now that she could
love him ir he would let her, even yet,
she is so sorry for him. When his
senses come back partially, and he tries
to speak, with strange contortiOns, her
arm pillows his head, her hands minis
ter to his wants, and when he looks at
her with his hard eyes so earnestly.
with such painful meaning, she strives
to comfort him. and bids him rest and
get better, and all will yet be well.
"She is his own child, she will never
leave him."
But 1t is not that, oh, not that which
troubles him as he sinks back with
groan of pain and anger. His lips will
not frame the question which he longs
and breads to ask. His name, his great
name. and his riches-was it all dream
or did some one tell him that the new
Lad ruine1 him, ruined him
utterly?
Draw aside the curtain, he is speak
ing; he whispers something. "But what
Il look there IS in his face, as the doc
tor bends over him.
'tDOctorl that villainI-vengeancel''
How last the watch ticks; how the
Doctors eye keeps on the patient; and
how that look changes, and shadows
come upon the face. How the hand
clasps and unclasps, stretching out af-
ter something which it cannot reach.
Another whisper, but, OH the look
the unclosed eyes now.
doctor, doctor, what is it, what is
coming? l feel it upon me-heavy. like
the clamping of strong box, Bring
her to me. Oh, Emmyl 1 forgive him;
save me-"
Once Emmy is suffered to bend down
and kiss him. On her knees she clings
to his hand, and her tears fall upon 1t
thick and fast, and she kisses it. Look
ing at him there; seeing the shadow on
his face; seeing that which none can
powerful IS it, so witler-
ing, so solemn-she falters out trembl-
ing, "Our Father"
In whispers he follows her, catching
for utteIance, fixing his eyes upon her,
as though safety lay in that. And
then the doctor puts her away gent
ly and closes the door.
The Great House is dead, and the
world says few words over its ashes
and forgets it. But, who was to COM
fort little Emmy, left alone there with
the dreary weight upon her in the dark
ened house?-little Emmy, so grieved
for the old man who was asleep quietly
in the churchyard?
In the room where the cloud had
been SO heavy where the desk still stood
in its wonted position; where the foot.
stool on the hearth spoke of her usual
seat, the little one rose up to meet and
welcome him whom she called brother.
But he asked for dearer title.
Gentlemen, my happiness. and grati-
tude for it, are yet too fresh to speak
Of. As a prosperous merchant you
know me. Some amongst you, young
men, still struggling perhaps and lnd-
ing uphill work, have heard speak
despairlngly of success, hopelessly of
their own efforts, barshly and bitterly
against their fellow men, as though
they bore universal grudge which
cannot be shaken.