Nevada County picayune., 1886-10-20

company, but you must tame him, Lucy, as your mother did me, that was my old fathers advice on our wedding day. My heart smote me dreadfully as 1 recalled it to my mind that morning. Had 1 done my duty? Had 1 followed the ex- ample of my mother, who never let fall an unkind word? But Tom woul be home to his dinner. The thought brought me to my feet. l did my work briskly and went about cooking just such dinner as l thought he would like. The plum pudding was done to perfec- tion, the baby in clean slip, and myself all smiles to receive him, when the clock struck one. Bat he did not come. l put up the untasted dinner and prepared sup per, and lit a bright fire in the lit tie parlor, he should have a pleas ant welcome. But he did not coma. Eight, nine, ten o'clock, and l put up the untasted supper, and baby and 1 went to the nursery to wait and watch.
 1 How the little thorn in my heart 1 pierced and ranked. Tom had broken his promise and my un- kindness was the cause. Nothing else rang in my ears through the long hours.
 About two o'clock 1 heard noise below and went to the window. There was a man on the porch, 1 could see him in the dim light.
 'Is that you Tom?" 1 asked soft ly, putting out my head.
 "Yes; open the door, Lucy, quick, the police are alter me-
 My heart sank. The police af' ter him. What could he. have done! 1 ran down swiftly and un- locked the door, but as l did so. two men, wearing official badges, stepped upon the porch, and one of them laid his hands on Toms shoulder and said: II arrest you for murder"
 The floor seemed sliding from beneath my feet, but caught at the door 70 steady myself and looked at Tom. At that instant the officer uncovered his lantern, and oh, God! there was blood on my husbands hands.
 All the rest is blank. When l came to myself again, l was in my room and kind ompassiOnate faces were around me. 1 asked for Tom; he was in prison awaiting his trial.
 There had been quarrel at the tavern and Tom had struck his an taeonst. The man wasn't dead, though they thought he was at first. But he was badly hurt about the head, and if he recover ed-well, 1t would not go so hard with Tom.
 arose and went to the prison, but they would not admit me. No one was to sec my husband till af- ter the trial.
 Another day crept by, night, and then morning came. I went down to the door and opened it with a vague feeling of expectation which alway s accompanies severe afiiictions, and looked out. The sun was rising grandly and bright ly over the black stone jail. The frost hung thick and sparkling oye: everything, even on the scrap of folded paper that lay at my feet. stopped and picked it up, idly as we catch at straw or twig without any motive or power of volition, The superscription caught my eye. It was my own life, my own name, and my husbands handwriting, l tore it open and read:
 DEAR LUCY:-I have broke out ot jail and am going g-well. no mat ter where. 1 didn't strike Hastings with an intention to kill him. l was intoxicated, and it was more his fault than mine, but he may die, and then-at any rate it is for you, Lucy, for me to go. l never was worthy of your love; now you can go back to your father and forget me and be happy. You will find the bonds, for that money l have iu the bank, in the desk; 1t is enough to make you and the child comfortable. Forgive and forget me, Lucy. God bless you and the hahv. TOM.