The weekly sentinel. [volume] (Winston-Salem, N.C.) 1886-1887, 1886-12-23

| characterlZeS her.
Her husband still lives, in privacy
still, but in scarcely as much secrecy
as before, since Mr.. Herrick's letters
come openly to US from Washington
City, where he has some position, and
is known among his fellow workmen,
so Joel tells US, as the silent man.
His brother Phillip would hardly
prove an attra ctive victim to his cred
itors now, since we learn his MUD is
clouded, and he knows not even his
mother, except at rare intervals.
This is the state of affairs in early
February, when an urgent letter from
| Mr.. Herrick summons Belle and her
child to the husband and father whom
| he represents as sinking fast, and in
some lucid moments, pleading for
| their presence.
She hesitates not one second, but
accompanied by her little daughter,
leaves on the return train.
Without her knowledge l telegraph
to Joel to meet her, since he is there,
as Jamie is away, and Spencer sick,
and l feel the need of her having
some protecting arm upon which to
lean, during a stay perhaps of many
weeks, as she avowed her determine
ton to remain until the end.
So the dreary winter days are driv-
en- away by the clustering winds Of
early spring, and they, in turn, are
tanned by the sunny disposition Of
balmy May, and still our absent ones
linger beside the stricken sufferer.
Jamie and Leonard both pay several
visits to her, and return alone, stating
his failing condition, and her desire
to be with him, as it proves great
comfort to them all, quoting him,
when every other effort fails, by The
light touch of her soft hand, and con
tributing to his case, by her capacity
for nursing another development Of
recent years.
But at last the frail cord Snaps
asunder, and another immortal being
crosses the threshold of the grave, and
enters eternity. The record OF anoth-
er is closed upon earth, to be judged,
where all IS understood, all doubt
made clear, and where, let US hope, a
verdict, less harsh in its nature, may
be rendered, when the frailty of hui
man Weaknesses. is taken into account
against the heavy balance of the temp
tations for the glittering bubbles
which this world offers.
So Belle comes back to US q widow
not grief strickened one, deprived of
of the stay, the beloved of her life,
but saddened, by the memory of the
last moment spent in the company of
the one, who had promised to love,
honor and cherish, until parted by
death, a promise made in the bright
dawn of a glorious, seeming prosperity
broken in the sombre twilight Of adj
versity's threatening night.
From Bell herself [ gather but lit
tie of those months Of weary watching
and waiting, which have laid deeper
Impressions of sadness, than the long
years of anxious care, and work, but
little Belle, in her loquacity, tells me
of the dismal abode of her relatives,
of her uncle's untiring devotion to
them all, of the old grandmother s
fendness, and above all of the father,
whom she had forgotten, and of whom
she was afraid at first, but who spoke
so lovingly of his little girl, and beg
ged her to forgive him for his conduct
that he wanted her to be so rich, { this
was his weakened state brought back
strength to his feeble mind } this, she
said, had made her cry, and feel SO
sorry for him, that she never felt
frightened any moro but, helped help
ed her mama nurse him, whenever she
would let her. From her 1 also gath
cred the full amount of Joel's thought
full kindness to them in the city, away
from their home and friends, and in
loving tones Of glad remembrance did
she speak of his tenderness, and good
ness to them, in their distressing cir
cumstances.
Leonard and 1 have a scheme,
whereby we trust to bring the noble
brother and grief-bowed mother of
Bellies dead husband to our town,
where in quiet security, they may
spend their future years. Oakland is
falling into decay, on account of i'm
proper supervision, SO we hope, with
Mrs. Deans permission, to establish
these sorrowing ones there, in congen-
ial retirement, to pass their latter
days.
To- morrow 1884 will hail the dawn,
1888 is fitting fast away, only a few
more hours, nay only one remains, for
the clock is even now striking eleven.
Casting my eyes towards my below
ed ones l see the three, already wan
dering in sleeps domain, while | am
still gazing into, the Wondering en-
bers Of my dying fire, thinking of the
dying year.
Suddenly the hall door closed with
its usual bang, as Joel, ali a frequent
visitor now, steps out upon the snow.
covered ground, and in a twinkling