St. Landry democrat. (Opelousas, La.) 1878-1894, 1886-02-13
CHAPTER XXVI.-CoNT1NUED.

OF the cottage on the mountain side;
one upon the bed. with white count
erpane drawn about it, and one in the
little cot, clothed in a white robe of
some soft >tuil, once worn bv the living,
but which Aal lain unused in the bu-
reau drawers for years, and which the
mothers hands had fashioned into
shroud during the hours which had in
tervened. Very peaceful was the look
on either face as they lay there. All
traces OF suffering and care had fled,
and in their place was look of rest
and perfect pe;ce. At least so thought
the weary, loving woman, who, lend
ing down to kiss each i'll turn, felt
strangely comforted, although her heart
seemed breaking.
When daylight had fully come she
. went on. and fed the animals and
fowls, and MIXED the COWS, leaving the
dead where they lay, and as her own
hands had cared for them. She felt
compelled to do this, partly out of SYM
patty with the dumb brutes who must
suffer without human care, but more
from feeling that John would have
her do it. For had she not always cared
for the animals when he CHANGED to be
away and there was no one else to at
tend to them? And now that he was
absent never to return, she did not feel
that it made any difference; he would
still want her to care for them. When
this was done she returned to the house.
made cup of tea and forced herself to
eat little, for her work was not yet
finished, and she must have strength.
Then she went about putting the
house in order, and in taking down
the clothes which her husband had on
when he came home wet and dying,
Lucy's letter fell out and she picked it
up and read it, and reading, under
stood all, or thought she did
1t was the knowledge that their chill
dren were to be driven out as they
themselves had so often been that had
killed John; that and some trouble
about their own home. She did not
know what this trouble was, but find
inc the deed in his pocket she knew
that the place had not been sold, and
putting that knowledge with the words
muttered by her husband in his delirl-
UNI, she guessed that some one laid claim
TO the cottage in which she watched
her dead. But nothing now had power
to add to her sutferings. Her cup was
already full and could contain no more;
so these added wrongs, whatever they
might prove to be, could not make her
sorrows greater
She put the letter in the bureau
drawer where all letters from the chill
dren were kept, finished tidyng up the
house. kissed again the cold faces OF
her dead and went out, carefully clos
inc and fastening the door behind her,
and going to the stable, saddled horse
and prepared to ride in search OF help.
1t was still raining, but in a mild KIND
of way, as if each particular drop half
repented of having decided to fall upon
the already water-soaked earth. The
gullies upon the mountain side had been
Widened and deepened, and new ones
had been cut through the cultivated
ground below. The grape-vines were
half denuded of their foliage, and what
remained hung listless, as if drowned
in the flood. The rose leaves lay scat
tered beneath their draggled bushes,
the fruit trees dropped their slender
twios and all nature seemed as if it
had surfet of weeping. The waters
filed the ravine below, and overflow
ING. had covered the stubble-held ana
extended half way to the cottage. A
few turkeys and chickens, weary with
their long confinement, were strolllng
about in dsconsolate kind OF manner,
and with a Jock that seemed to say that
they were tired of life and ready to be
eaten if anybody could get up an ap'
petite in such abopinable weather.
Leading the animal she had chosen
to ride to a block near the kitchen door,
she mounted him and rode away. Al
the main road she turned to the right
knowing that it would be folly to at
tempt to ford the ravine, and having
decided to 90 further up the mountain
and try to reach the cottage OF some
peopIe living on the other side OF the
divide. reasoning that the higher up shf
went the less would be the volume O.
water in the ravines She found tht
road almost impossible in places. ane
once was nearly carried away oy the
force of a stream which she was COIN
nalled to cross, but finally succeeded
without injury to herself or morse II
reaching the shanty Of settler, am az
told the object of her coming. on
wanted help to bury her dead, and sn'
wanted some one to 60 to the neares
nost-offiee and mail letter to Erastu
and Lucy, and another to Jennie an'
her husband. ,.
These letters she had written dur1ns
the night after Johnny died, sitting, u
the room where her dead lay Inc.
were brief, for no words came to her II
which to tell Of her sorrow, or her aW
full loneliness; but in few sentence
she had told what had occurred.
GIL