Rock Island daily Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1886-1893, 1888-02-25

from the myriad belts, while the mon and
women and children gathered around the
| great parallelogram marked out by the engi
neers for the foundation Of the new mill. II
was to,be their mill, too, and the face Of the
poorest creature Of them all reflected a little
| Of tho blessed hope which was making life
over for them. Not a voice was heard. For
tho moment all eyes were fixed on the bend
| ing forms Philip Breton's slight form was
/ bent, too, as he drove his spade deep into the
| stubborn sod Every laborer stayed his
| hand until the young master threw up the
| first earth. Then a cheer broke from each
brawny throat, and every spade at once
lifted its burden Of green turf.
The hundred laborers bent again TO their
| task, and the frightened daisies trembled on
their green stems, but Philip, spade in hand,
! had mounted the steps of the nearest mill,
! and now looked down kindly on the opera
tives who gathered expectantly about him.
II mean that not one injustice shall ever
| desecrate these new walls, mean that the
| mill shall be a temple of cooperation. l be-
| lieve the world is just entering ON new
epoch, more glorious than my before, because
| blessings that have been confined TO the few,
comforts that have comforted only the few,
| leisure and amusement, even, that has
cheered only the few, shall be universal; that
each hand that tills the earth shall share in
| its bouRtful harvests, which now pack the
| store houses Of few in useless profusion;
| that each hand that weaves our cloth shall
| share in its profits according to his worth. 1t
| isn't because the world is so poor that you
have been poor so long; but because its wealth
is wasted. Yet be patient, Violence only
destroys, it docs not build up, and every ar
| ticle of wealth destroyed leaves so much less
of your heritage. We will not work any
more today; it shall be a holiday to be kept
sacred in our memories, as an inspiration to
more faithful labor and moro honest, CON
tented lives.
But for a moment no one moved, till he
leaned his spade against the wall, and started
to come down. Then murmur ran through
the crowd till it swelled to a cheer, and as he
Inade his way out he had to clasp thou
sand dingy hands, reached out to the young
master in token of the love and trust Of a
thousand frightened lives.
His destiny that had frowned so long and
so terribly, smiled at last. As if by iairacle
his life that had seemed SO 1reary and bar
ren, was become a path Of flowers. All
dangers were averted, all evils turned into
blessings, and it was so short "A time ago that
he saw no spark of joy in life, 1t had
been like a day when the clouds had shut
earth for a stol:n. \ shadow creeps into
every human faca, darkness covers in every
home, the birds fltter in terror from tree to
tree, or nestle fearfully in their retreats
The very brooks moan instead of babbling
Then suddenly the summer sun burns
through the Clouds which scatter to their
caves beneath the hills; the ripping rivers
glisten and sparkle like rarest Jewels and the
birds break forth in song as they mount in
ecstasy toward the sunlight. Not human
thing but Irightens into sudden gladness So
short a time ago he thought life only dull,
cherries struggle. that he rose in the morn
ing heavy and disheartened, that he lay down
at night, careless if he slept forever. But
suddenly the world looked like an enchanted
palace to Philip Breton, and his life seemed
as perfect a day in paradise.
1t was at o'clock that he was to go to
Bertha, and it was only when he was ready
and waiting in his study for this last slow
hour between him and happiness TO slip
away. He looked up the street and down
again, but the streets were quite deserted; he
might have fancied the world all gone to
sleep had he not heard the roar of the waters
going over the dam. Then he glanced at the
clo@i If he had not heard its loud ticking
he would have been willing to swear the
hands must have stopped. lie picked up a
newspaper anu JTletl 70 Interest HlllSell Ill IL.
What a child he was to be sure, not to know
how to wait. Did he imagine there would be
nothing more for him to wait for after to-
day. His eyes glanced impatiently down the
pages. There seemed to be absolutely nothing
in the paper at all; he must stop his subscrip-
ton; he might as well write to the publishers
now; it would take up little of his surplus
time. But what was this odd looking adver-
tisement in such very black type:
Divorces obtained without trouble OF pub
licity for any cause desired. Address, in
strictest confidence, John T. Giddings, No
Errick square, Lockout
"Well, WELL" solloquized Philip, after
reading the card n second time, "our corpo-
ration counsel is come down pretty low, get
ting bogus divorces for livelihood"
Then he glanced at his watch; he was out
of temper with the pretty little clock. Per-
haps allowing fifteen minutes for the distance
to Bertha's house he might not be very much
too early.
Philip found Bertha standing. She gener-
ally preferred to sit. And she wore an
anxious look he had never seen on her face
before. He thought to make her laugh.
II suppose Mrs. Ellingsworth will not miss
her chance tospoil our tete-a-tete"
"She is not in town." and Bertha turned to
the window again. "She went yesterday.
Do you know whether she has any relatives
in-in Vineboro2'
"Why that is where YOU Philip bit
his lip; 'no, didn't know that she had.n
He came up to where she stood, and, when
she did not speak again, he tried to take her
hand. But she drew away from his touch
with gesture of impatience
~ am in no mood for foolishuess" 1t
seemed foolishness to her, thenl There was
a pang of pain about his heart and then a |
thought struck him.
"You are not afraid of her, arc your
She drew herself up to her full height in
her old superb arrogance, and her lips curled |
in scorn.
~ will be afraid of no one If 1 owe no
one a duty need not be afraid.n She seemed |
to be gathering force for an instant, while |
her cold eyes rested on the face of the man |
who loved her so nobly. II must take back |
my promise; cannot marry you"
"Doyou owe me nothing now, thenp he |
pleaded in startled voice
Perhaps so-yes, think I ought not to |
make you miserable"
"Then do not leave me; do not kill me, |
Bertha, after letting me hope" He had
seized her hand again, but she would not let
aim draw her to him.
"But should make you miserable" She
1ropped her eyes before his. "You would
not like-like"-
81 will take all the blame, then" He put
his arm about her, and this time she did not
repel him. II call God to witness you will
not be responsible; 1 will forgive you every
thing, my darling" She was in his arms,
but still she held back her face from him.
IL NJ TNShs9f