New Ulm weekly review. [volume] (New Ulm, Minn.) 1878-1892, 1886-08-04


help worrying about her sometimes
Shes been O little distract and odd
tor the last few days, and / hoped she.
had outgrown all that here with us.
She will make some nice fellow dear,
good wife, won't she, Dick ~
ooh, yes. By the way, are you go
ing to the benefit tomorrow night?"
Il bought box. but / don't care
much tor Fedora It's too heart
breaking, somehow, Dick; and we old
women don't like to be narrowed.
Miss Dacre will play it very nicely,
though. Isn't she pretty, Dick?-her
eyes just like Nellie's--or are they not
SO dark"
.About the same, l fancy. Well, if
you are not going / will run up here
for about half an hour, at 9 o'clock.
'sYou work too hard, Dick; why
don't you have managing editor?
You used to do all the work Tor Mr..
eastman.
Oh, work does me good. It's about
the best thing in life, after all; isn't
it?"
''That doesn't sound like happy
man, Dick. Are you quite sure that
you are happy? You know you coerc-
ed me into this engagement anyway,
Dick, and 1 really think you might let
me offnow. You see Igot you to take
care Of the Journal for me. And now
that you have made such a lot of
money for me, / want to back out Of
my bargain"
You are the most atrocious tilt in
the world, madam; but I'm not at all
the sort OF a man to beiilted. Sup
pose we go down to the supper room
now"
"No, Dick. l don't want any sup.
per. | have been headachy all day,
and am going to slip off quietly and
go to bed. There is Nine. Luque now;
ask her to come up stairs to me for a
moment. Goodnight, Dick, dear-let
ME kiss you. Ihave never kissed you,
and tomorrow will be your birthday.
There, goodnight, Dick, dear Dick'.'
And Mrs. Warner went up the broad
steps to her bedroom, when Nine. Lu.
que came bustling up to her, with ex.
pressions of alarm and offers of care.
Mrs. Warner laughed at her.
"1ts nothing but fatigue, Marie, and
yet I don't feel as if could sleep.
Let me have your chloraI, will you!
Send it to me, and you must go, dear:
and do the honors. know the dose,
and nights sleep is just what ]
need"
Nine. Luque went down stairs; the
maid came with the bottle of choral
and Mrs. Warner sat down by the fire
while her hair was brushed.
"Please, ma'am, will you have Ed
monds telephone for the doctor?
Yon're not we'll, ma am"
"Quite we'll, Jane. Pm a little tired,
that's ala little tired, and I want
sleep"
"And the choral to do it! Isn't it
wonderful, ma'am? A sup out of a
bottle, and you 90 to Sleep. Doctors
are wonderful, ma am"
''Yes-they do u great deal for US.
Good night, Jane, you need not wake
me in the morning, but let the doctor
come to my room when he CALLS
eyes ma'am;'' and Mrs. Warner
knelt by her bedside: "Our father, who
art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.
Lead us not into temptation, but de-
liver us from all evil. Forgive us our
trespass 7s-forglve us our trespasses"
the prayer was not finished and Mrs
Warner lay down on the sofa by the
fire dressed in her wrapper. Dicks
picture stood on little table beside
her. She looked at it thoughtfully.
Then she took a picture of Nellie from
the mantelpiece and placed it by Dicks.
They werea handsome couple AS peo-
pie said. Dear Dick. What a splendid
fellow he was; true as steel! She kissed
his picture. They were Waiting down
stairs She could hear the cadence OF
the Minola. Then fire bell sounded
from the next street. Joy and sor-
row-feasts and disaster. She went
to the window and raised the cur
tain.
The sky was red with flame--.a fire
down near the mission. Poor mems
houses destroyed perhaps. All! Dick
was always good to he poor, Joy and
sorrow, feasts and disaster-light and
darkness in every life-new wine in old
BOTTLES and old wine in new
She poured some choral into the
glass. Sleep was the best Of life-after
all.
When Mrs. Warner was found dead
in her bed from an overdose of choral
every one who knew her mourned.
erich people like her are rare" said
the poor-and her friends remembered
how pleasant her house had been.
A year later Dick Headley married
Nellie. They are happy enough, but
they have no children. The Morning.
Journal, bequeathed to him, fourishes
and prospers, but Dick worked at it
as hard as ever. And every Sunday
morning, early and alone, he walks
out to q tomb at Lone Mountain,
opens the door. and lays on the stone
within red rose and copy of the
Sunday Morning Journal. 1t is a
great edition now-the Sunday Journ,
al. But there is room in the tomb
for many more OF the closely folded
papers. No one can see them through
the door, and they lie there
bought by the dead.
Absence Made Them Bearer.