St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1886-03-13

eyes. Tim turned, with an almost terrified
glance, TO his companions, and Pete stepped
forward.
"What is it. JemP" he asked. apprehen-
sively. But Jem had returned 10 his place
by the window, and seemed TO hear moth
ing.
One by one the men entered the room.
IL was a bright. trim little place, which
showed the touch of loving hands i'm every
corner. Who knew how many cheerfully-
endured privatiOns had gone TO make it
what it was? A small cook stove occupied
one side, with well-filled coal scuttle
standing beside il. A strip of rag carpet
covered the center of the floor. -Four col
ored prints in cheap frames hung on the
walls and on the windOw-ledge was a red
geranium i'm blossom. An open door led
into the bedroom, where a gorgeous iris
ing-sun" quilt made bright patch of color.
In the middle of the living-rOOm was
small deal table. set clumSily as if by a
mans hand, for two. Everything was
new and shining. BY the window
knelt Jem, bending over an
open trunk, on the end of
which nearest the door was n neatly writ
ten card: MARY Allen, second-elass paSsen-
ger, from Liverpool 10 New York" With
one great hand he was tenderly strOking a
/
bow of white ribbons.
"She would ha' ben married i'm this,
mates" he said slowly, half turning, with a
dull, hopeless look in his eyes.
The men looked at one another.
what is il, Jem?" asked Pete again, in
a hoarse whisper.
Jem passed his hand YEARLY over his
brow. Il don't seem TO remember he said
in bewildered way; ''she died-they said
she died-my Mary-it was scarlet fever
and they buried her. Oh. mates, matesw with
a cry of agony never forgotten by those who
heard it. They buried her in the sea!''
And the strong frame shook with great sObs.
MY God!' said Pete, in a low voice.
Tim was crying like a child and even the
Germans eyes were wet.
''Jem, Jem, old man. don't take il Ike
this" Pete at last tried to say, but his voice
broke, and with hasty oath
he hurried from the room. The
rest followed him, and the faith
full freshman was left alone with his
friend. Nothing. however, that he could
do would induce Jem TO leave his place or
partake of the tea quickly prepared for him.
and at last Tim also. with a heart full of
anxious forebOdings. was Obliged To take
his can and hasten away TO the malt house.
All through the long night as he worked
on the hot, dry kilns, or Shoyeled the moist,
sprouting grain on the floors" he was I'M
easy about his friend, and at the first stroke
of he and Pete left their scarcely finished
work and hurried along the silent, gas-lit
streets TO the place which, for want of a
better name, they called home" They
rap at Jem's door. and are
somehow scarcely surprised to
get no answer. Pete turns the han
die and enters the dark room, possessed
with dread, of what he hardly knows
They strike match. and by the light of a
tallow candle which Tim produces from his
pocket they find, almost with relief, that
the rooms are empty. Everything is as
they left ii the night before. save that the
little trunk is strapped and corded. and on
the table, beside the buTned-out lamp, lies a
folded scrap of paper. Tim. who cannot
read, hands it with shaking fingers to the
NermOnter.
ii hope il amt wrong" runs Jem's pain
fully written scrawl; ''leastways i hope
twill be furgiyven, fur how can leve my
mary alone in the cold sea an me live on
well and harty? it seems as if twill be less
lonely like fur both of us, an so. mates. i
umbly AK Gods pardon an bid you fare
wei, mates, all. Jem."
The next days papers announce the
supposed accidental drowning of an
Englishman named Jem Cooper, an en-
ploye at IS malt house.