Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1886-09-08

broad, white turnpike sweeps and /
leaves the shorter road to quiet and re-
pose; the grass is soft across it and the |
ground sparrow has her nest in the |
wagon tracks.
The grass is studded with daisies,
white and yellow, and sweet-willlams
blossom gayly among the purple this
ties. Beyond, in the fields, the corn
waves, dark, green, shimmering sea,
over the slope and out of sight. A
clear green sea, broken only now and
then by a stately mullen stalk which
Tears It's yellow head above the shining
corn and seems to look, with an air of
possession, over the broad fields.
In the shadow of the fence the dew
is not yet dried, and gllstens bravely as
stray sunbeams find their way to 1t.
The birds sing their merriest, the sun
shines its brightest and through 1t all
walks Jean with downcast, happy eyes.
"While you are away, you Will not
forget-you know what?" her compan-
ion says holding closer her warm right
hand. "You will not forget, Jeanp"
''As if could, you foolish boy" she
says with happy laugh. But you may
forget"
"Yes. when 1 forget to lIve," he
says. 'Oh, Jean! what would the world
be to me without you?"
"a very lovely world still," she says,
but he shakes his head and they walk
on In silence.
They walk on, down the hill and
through the village streets and up the
rickety platform where, once a day, a
roaring express train stops and brings,
| for moment, some of the city's smoke
and din TO the quiet country.
The station master, in Tapping straw
hat and patched corduroy trousers,
lounges on truck In the morning sun
shine. \ good-natured old couple sit
close together in startled anticipation
of departure, and bldse young fellow,
whose satchel hangs by strap from
his shoulder, smothers a yawn and
opens his dull eyes further to take in
more of Jeans fresh loveliness, as she
comes forward.
at is the last time, Jean," her lover
whispers. "You will never go away
from me again. Think OF it, my sweet
heart! The very last goodbye that We
need ever say"
The sweet, red blushes chase each
other over her rose-leaf face and soft
white neck, which the linen collar
guards so jealousy.
THE very last," she repeats softly.
LET me pin this daisy on your coat,
Don. Nowl You will think Of me
when it is withered and you throw il
away. And | will keep these IN my
hand until they fade and think of you
every minute and know that you are
thinking of me-" And SO they talk and
laugh, ard his fond eyes watch her
flower-llke face that smiles and blusheS
under his tender gaze.
And, at last, he holds tight her slim,
soft hands, as if he would never let
them 90 and say. l can hardly let you
90, but it is the last time, dear. Our
last good-bye; are you not glad?"
'Good.bye." she whispers. "FoI
just a little time. l shall keep the
flowers, Don."
His lips touch hers and the train
speeds away. He catches last glimpse
of the fair, flushed face, a last smile and
last wave of the hand; then the gips'
hat has vanished and fair-haired little
Jean has gone.
1t is strangely dark and dreary as ht
walks away. He walks slowly bach
the way they came, but the sun is hot
and glaring; the dew has dried away
the birds sing harshly and the color ant
the beauty has faded from the flowers
1t is very dull and prosaic world
much unlike the fairy land that hi
passed through little while ago.
Noise, confusion and excitement.
Cries, sobs and eager questions.
How did it happen?" 'Who was t
blame?" "a broken rail?" "An opel
switch?"
A crowd OF swaying, iostliDg an'
sorrowful people.
Eibowing his way through then
comes white-facsd man, with droop
daisy in his buttonhole. He stride
straight to the door of the waiting
room from which come means and sobs
. thrusts aside the official who would ba
his way and who shrinks back from hi
drawn, desperate face.
4 soiled white dress, 4 crushed gips.
hat and white, upturned face.
lie takes her in his arms and, wit
no word, bears her out from the nois
and crowd. People make way for hin
and turn their eyes away, and eyes ar
dim and lips Quiver.
.. Out of the crowd he goes and lay lie
gently down on the soft grass.
There Is blood on her white forehead
he wipes it tenderly away and smoothe
,, back the fair, tangled hair. Her linn
hands still hold the flowers that hav
+ hardly withered.
,, He kisses her small. cold hands, he
still white lips and calls her by the old
fond, tender names-and there is n
. reply.
Holding fast her flowers, with tn
happy smile that still fingers on he
, lips, Jean has gone swiftly-terribly-
: out of all possible harm and misery
Her head is heavy on his arm and t
, his passionate cries there Is no answer
|, and he buries his gray, haggard face
the cool grass and holds fast her dea
hand.
1.-The last goodbye that we need eve
, saw" he means. "Oh, Jean, my darling
! It was. But take me with you-com
, for mel"
,, But her lips do not answer or move
, though he watches them with n
breath. Then he folds her hands upo
: her breast and clasps her fingers aoor
: the faded daisies and bows his heaf
: while the shadow, that never will |
lifted, comes down and takes him in'
: It's embrace.