Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1888-08-24

"a, 1888.
was liked and trusted by all men, and very
probably admired by women. She knew his
GRAND to the place. He was a celebrated
engineer, and had come down to take charge
Of the great project of retaining the tide
lands People called the enterprise ''the
march Of Improvement" but Miss Wander
pool hated the march of Improvement, and
did not care for benefits to commerce, but
liked best the wide stretch of salt marshes
with their rusty vegetation, their black pools
and fitting fogs. She was coming to them
now, for her path lay along their border,
and soon she was beside them, and drew
long breath, inhaling the fresh ocean air
with its briny smell. She looked out to sea-
where a luminous glow along the hori-
Eon commemorated the going down OF
the sun and sullen clouds above pre-
saged the gathering of a storm. She
hoped, with feeling of pity new to her, that
it might be clear for hour or two on the
morrow, that the burial of the little child
might not be made drearier by clouded skies
and driving rain. Not far away, on the
marsh, surrounded by broad pools which re-
aected the distant glow in the sky, she saw
phO peili Shl1u1IOy VI IL SUtdlll u6IIlCh duu
low barge like shape that seemed to be an
chored in the mud. She did not give herself
much time to speculate now. Night was fast
falling, and a little ahead she saw the tiny
brook she sought. But think moment
Was it the right place? She hesitated for
an instant in doubt and perplexity, then
looked quickly about to determine her bear
lngs by some familiar landmarks. There on
the bluff were the square outlines of her old
home, just visible against the sky, and there,
off to the right far beyond, were the harbor
lights. just little further on, then sharp
turn to the left, climb up the rocks to the
little bench that lay between the bluff and
shore, and she should find the flowers. She
pressed hurriedly on to gain the place before
1t should be wholly dark. She knew way
up the bluffs, a steep and winding PATH by
which she could gain the lighted upper street
when she was DONE If only she could once
and the flowers the dewy, spring flowers,
with their faint, sweet odor and their fresh,
sheltering leaves! All worldly thoughts
seemed to fall away from her, the weight of
disappointment and care was lifted from her
heart, and she felt like an eager child, bent
on her innocent quest.
But what was this-the solid ground CIV
ing way beneath her feet, every step taking
her deeper and deeper into bottom1ess ooze,
her feet drawn down and held as if by lead
en- weights! This was not the way it used
to be along the banks of the little brook. In
a moment the full horror of the situation
flashed upon her. Deceived by the dim light
or rendered careless by her own wandering
thoughts she had strayed further from the
town than she had supposed, and what she
had mistaken for the little brook was really
an estuary of the sea. bordered by treacher-
Gus boys, portion of the great waste of tide
land which the company were seeking to re-
claim. Quick and sharp came other recollec-
tions. She remembered that children had
been lost there when at play. She remem-
bered that every now and then some man or
woman had mysteriously disappeared from
sight and knowledge, and it had been. whis-
pered about that they had been last seen
walking along the border of the tide lands.
But these were poor people of the lower
classes. about whom the Vanderpools had
given themselves little concern. She remem-
bered now-ah, how sharply!-that she
had read with a curling lip that
portion of the ) young engineers ar
gument before the harbor commission
ers. when he was pleading for permission to
go on with his work, wherein he had advanced,
as one Of his strongest pleas, that many lives
would be saved by the completion of the
enterprise. And now she, Judith Wander
pool, the last of her name, was about to
succumb to this most unheroic destiny 1t
was better so. She would have chosen this
very way of death if she might. She had
been tortured by one dread over and over
again during these years of poverty and
privation, and she gave little hysterical
laugh as she remembered it now. If she
should have broken down and died in the
midst of her unsuccessful struggle she had
not the wherewithal to buy her funeral
shroud. Now no one would know, no one
would care.
Oh, the terror of it! Not death. Many
were there who would know her and greet
her gladly; father. mother, brother, friends
of her childhood-the only friends she had
kept. But that last thought! To drop out
and never be missed; to leave behind her nota
human being who would care Why should she
grieve over it now2 She had of her own will
separated herself from all human interests;
she had never cared for human companion
ship or love.
But, oh Godl she did care. She knew it
now. Face to face with this terrible and
lonely death she had come to knowledge Of
herself. Nursing her foolish pride and fam
lily traditions, measuring all the world by
false standards, she had wronged herself most
of all. What was it that had SO touched her
in the humble home she had just left, break
ing down the barriers of her own reserve,
drawing her on and out Of herself, until she
longed to claim some little part IL. its What
was 1t but the glad and sacred atmosphere of
pure family affection9 Oh, her life had been
empty; empty. And the one human love
IL ~.-.l,A
would have made her happy woman, she
had scornfully rejected Oh, if she could only
live her life over, if she could but take up its
tangled threads again with cleared vision and
humbled heart.
1t was then that she sent up her first and
only cry for help. Hitherto she had been
silently resigning herself to death with a
calmness and dignity beitting Vanderpool.
Now a prolonged and mournful cry went out
over the marshes, startling the seagulls,
which rose and wheeled 4imlessly about
against the darkening sky. The cry was
taken up and answered far out on the
marshes There was q sudden commotiou
about the barge, lanterns flashed outside, and
| by their light she could see dark forms NOV.
| ing about. But she-she was sinking, sink.
ing
When she came to herself she was in hel
own little room. 1t was very quiet and com.
Portable. Her landlady fitted in and out,
with look of earnest concern on her care
| Wort, face. So the world was not so hard,
| after all. She-the Gorgon-seemed glad
| that her delinquent ledger was alive, and
said no word about the rent overdue Some.
body had pulled the lounge, on which she
lay, up to the stove, and there was a fire
there, the first for many weeks, for her own
| fuel had given out in February, and she had
been freezing ever since-freezing heart and
body. And what was that brewing on the
stove, that sent such a delicious fragrance
through the rooma
"Now, my DEAR" said the Gorgon, pouring
something into clumsy earthen cup and
handing it to her, ''just you take this cup OF
coffee and bit of hot roll, and it'll set you up
| in no time. You've been looking peaked and
mis'able this long time. Folk that feeds
themselves don't take no proper care. Pve
been thinking, this long while, that if you'd
just. take your living along of me
and give pianny lessons to sairy Ann
| but I hardly dared ask 1t, You being sich