Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1888-12-05


the sun-browned grass was under this
cloudy skyl The wind was rising rap
Idly, and swept In strong gusts around
the building, swaying the few trees
that grew near II, moaning through
their tops, and then rushing away on
Its unimpeded course across tho. open
country, leaving behind IL moments
breathless stiffness.
Suddenly the sky changed TO a pecu
liar greenish hue, there was rushing,
rumbling sound, less like thunder, than
like a swiftly approaching train.
Marcia started TO her feet, but she had
scarcely time 10 think what IL was be-
fore a fierce blast came crashing
through the trees, twisting and snap
Ing them, and making the little build.
Ing shake and CULVER, as II II were
trembling In an agony OF fear before
this mighty, invisible power. Marcia
sprang TO the window, and looked
helplessly toward home.
II ought to have gone'--she began.
but the sentence was left unfinished.
Her head suddenly bumped against the
sash, then she was swiftly thrown
backward upon the floor, with a con-
fused vision of flying desks, books and
benches, and a feeling that the build
ing was being violently lifted and
borne forward. There was moment
OF fearful uproar, in which the
rafting of furniture. the crashing OF
glass, her own shrek, and the roar OF
the wind were blended; then the din
and frightful motion ceased, and all
was still. She slowly freed herself
from the chairs and maps piled around
her, and regained her feet.
Beyond a few slight bruises she was
unhurt, and as soon as her bowildered
brain comprchended what had hap
pened, she obeyed her first impulse,
and escaped from the house TO the
open prairie. Here voice greeted
her.
"Hello! You here, Miss Marshy?
Well, wasn't that q blowr' and Squire
Selby scrambled up from the earth
and looked about him, with his round
face wearing an expression, moro
nearly like gravity than 1t had ever
been known to assume before.
II was on my way home from town
when l noticed the storm-clouds rollin'
up so fast, that L thought I'd better
make for the school-house. / had no
idee it would be so obligin' as TO come
half way and meet me. heard we
was havin' some progressive doin's
there since you took charge, Miss
Marshy, but this is more than i ex-
pected. Well, wasn't it a blow! /
wonder where my horse and wagon
has gone to. ! jumped out, and lay
fiat on the ground, and IL old Dobbin
amt blown to flinders it's likely he's
gone home"
The rain began TO fall heavily, and
the jovial old squire proposed seeking
shelter in the building. Marcia shrank
back in terror, but he treasured her.
"Oh, it's safe enough now! Light
ming amt apt to strike twice in the
same place; and it wasn't lightning,
anyway, but hurricane that's miles
of by this time, troubling other
folks. Good deal more danger OF
your taking cold out here, Miss
Marshy, than there Is OF the school
house takin' to its heels again. This
rain IL soon be over"
The rain was soon over, rs he had
predicted, and the sun was lighting up
the drops that lay on the grass as
Marcia took her way homeward.
Every thing was just as usual. The
: storm had brought only one OF those
almost casualties that so constantly
threaten in one form or another, pass
on, and are forgotten.
But that one minutes outlook had
J suddenly settled the question that had
, been vexing her. A strange light falls
on many things, when we stand for a
moment at the gates that open out
} ward, and see life stretching away in
to the beyond. Little pleasures are
not so weighty as they had seemed,
and next of kin" did mean q good
deal. So it happened that, after tho
event OF the afternoon had been dis.
} cussed and exclaimed over that even
} ing, Marcia said. simply: ,..a.,l
give been. thinking, Uncle Seth,
that we'd better take that child instead
J Of letting IL 60 to Jocl's."
The rugged, hOmcly face bright
, ened, and there was quick light In
the eyes under the shaggy, gray brows.
I'm kinder glad TO hear you say
that, Marshy, am, really. It'll make
: harder times for US, don't doubt, an
, tough pullin' sometimes to get along,
} but / never did shirk yet, an seems g
II twas late to begin now"
, He was off on his journey in the few
, days of Marcia's enforced vacation, and
she and Nancy had ample time for
} planning. They hunted up old muslin
dresses that would cut over nicely, but
decided that the matter OF making
: clothing must await clearer knowl-
} edge of the young strangers size.
They pondered whether the east
, room or the ''bcst room could be most
) comfortably transformed into a nurs-
, cry; and, from its long Punishment In
; The attic, they brought down an old
fashioned cradle.
Softly pillowed and dalntily equipped,
the cradle stood beside the fire on tha
3 evening that Uncle Seth was expected
, home, while on the stove was cup of
,atnip tea, which Nancy now pushed
: forward to warm, now backward into
, obscurity, according TO her Huctuating
opinion OF the age Of the baby.
I When the familiar stop at last sound
. ed at the door both women started for
l ward. But Uncle Seth entered alone.
: 1.-The babyr' exclaimed Marcia.
I Where is the childp"
"Sho!' Uncle Seth's face wore a
t ook OF confusion, and he laughed in
; ON embarrassed way. There amt any
4 child; that was just mistake OF mine
: David bein' such a mighty poor
, writer. 'Twasn't little incum rance,