Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1886-02-18


he wood, and there
the soft ground that
dictate a struggle. AT
lie had been seen drinking
al, and exhibiting his money.
looking stranger had been
follow him, it was now re-
4bered.
No one doubted that he would be
found murdered ia the woods hard by,
but though search was made, it was a
year before some one telling trees at
some distance from the spot where
James Handel's horse had been tied,
found dead body covered with leaves.
and quite unacceptable.
Popular opinion, however, decided
that it was all that remained Of james
Handel, and as such it was buried.
The ceremony over, all doubts as
to the poor mans death were at an
end. Lottie wore her widow cap,
and assumed q widows rights over
her property; and years went by, and
the boys grew tall, and the girl wore
her mothers smile, but Charles Han
del thought her less charming. She
never could be so sweet a woman as
her mother was, he believed.
The few penetrating women had
been right. He had never ceased to
Love Lottie; he loved her still. He
knew also-what no one else knew
that her married life had been a DIS
appointment. Jim had cared for her
a great deal for awhile. But the end
OF his loving had come speedily, and
henceforth she had been the woman
who cooked his dinners, and washed
his dishes, and nursed his children,
and little more.
Now, as the years went by, Charles
began to feel that hope he scarcely
dared to cherish at first was growing
stronger; that Lottie cared something
for him at last. She had been widow
ten years; surely there was nothing
wrong in his telling her his heart at
once.
One evening he went out to the old
farm with purpose in his heart. He
found Lottie alone. The boys and
their sister had gone to singing school
together. She sat BY the freside,
knitting, and he drew his chair close
to hers, and the soft light of fire and
candle, the silence of the country win
ter night, her beauty-for she was
very fair to look upon still-and, most
Of all, the kindly looks she gave him.
made that easy to say which had
seemed to be so difficult.
He told her that he loved her and
had always loved her, and asked her
to be his wife. And, rather by looks
than words, he learned that, however,
it had been in the past, her heart was
his at last. Then he sat beside her,
and his arm lay about her waist, and
her head dropped upon his shoulder.
The happiest part of my life lies
before me, though l am forty" he
said. Il believe l can make your
future happy also" he said; and as
he spoke there came tapping upon
the window pane.
The children have come home"
said the mother, and, with tell-tale
blush upon her cheek, arose and
opened the door.
But the children, as she called them,
were not without. Instead of their
slight figures she saw the form of a
man leaning against the door. She
looked closer, and started back with
shrek, for he walked past her into
the room, and she saw that it was her
husband, Jim Handel.
He was older, of course; his hair
was iron gray, and his face was bloat-
ed, as drunkards always is. He
staggered q little and his speech was
thick, but she knew him, as 90 did his
brother Charles, at once.
All he said was: We'll, here I am
again"
Then he spread himself upon the
lounge and went to sleep, as tipsy men
do.
His wife and brother looked ut him
with blanehed, terror. stricken faces.
At last the woman turned toward the
man. Goodbye" he said. God help
~ both"
And be kissed her hand and went.
Afterwards when the boys and her
girl came home, the mother told them
the strange news that their father had
returned. A peep at the face on the
lounge did not encourage them to hope
much from his return.
The next morning Jim Handel was
dead. He never told OF his adven-
lures. 4 year afterward there was a
quiet wedding in the old farmhouse.
The patient physicians love at last
met with its reward.