Barbour County index. [volume] (Medicine Lodge, Kan.) 1880-current, 1889-10-30

then going into the meadow back of the
cottage she hastily gathered a bunch of
autumn flowers
my sister says that she never before
saw such an expression as crept over
Margery's face as she stood in the doorway
listening for the sound OF wheels. It re-
minded her OF that place in the Bible where
Elijah stood waiting tor the chariot to take
him home; she wondered if his face did not
wear such looR of joyful, yet solemn an
ticipation.
Suddenly sound broke the stiffness
1t was not the merry creaking of rapidly
turning wheels, not the joyful laughing of
the officers, and when the turn in the road
was reached the mournful sound was sue
ceeded by more ominous stiffness. They
were not wholly unprepared for the un-
usual appearance of Zeb, Colonel Marsden's
body servant. His face wore such fright
ened expression that my sister FASTENED to
meet him, exclaiming: why, Zeb, what is
the matterl Where is the Colonelf For
an answer the negro threw himself upon
the grass, moaning and sobbing. 'Oh,
can't tell Missy Margery, can't tell Missy
MRrgeryP
"She finally learned from him how the
party of officers had encountered a band of
guerillas and in the skirmish that resulted
Colonel Marsden had been killed 'Dey had
to go back to warn de camp and told me to
take keer OBJ de Kunnel.'
"Poor Margery must have heard Zeb's
story, for when they reached the house she
was unconscious, and before night her
brain was raging with fever from whose
effects she has never recovered"
The remainder Of the landladys story was
told in few words.
Colonel Marsden's friends came for his
body, and, upon learning Margery's condi-
tion, placed In the hands of our pastor q
sum OF money sufficient to supply her wants
for many years, for the doctor told them
that 1t was very probable that her reason
would never be restored.
God in His mercy blotted from her mind
the whole terrible tragedy, and she was
again like little child, happy when the
birds were singing and the flowers bloom
ing. Year after year all memory of Colonel
Marsden seemed forgotten until the sumac
began to crimson the mountain sides, when
she would seem possessed of spirit of un-
rest, and until the frost came ever listened
for the sound of the long-expected carriage.
After hearing the story of Margery my
heart was filed with kindness for the home
and many dear friends belonging to me,
even though they were distant, and all
inconsistencies had vanished ere opened the
school-house door on the morrow.
My scholars were like others, idle and
mischievous at times, but their good quail
ties predominated and l soon learned to
love them.
How vividly all the bright faces float out
OF the past, but chief among them is little
Con Dawson, my jolly Irish boy, and Hattie
Hosmer, with long, fine curls floating over
her shoulders.
After hearing all the recitations it was
my custom to spend the last half hour in
discussing the leading events of the day or
in telling them some of the old stories
which all children delight to hear. One
evening, when in the midst of that delight
full romance, king Arthur and His Table
Round, we saw Margery standing near the
doorway, eagerly intent upon all that was
said, but upon the conclusion of the story
she Immediately disappeared
Here was my opportunity, and the listen
ing children soon heard how we of to-day
might do the same work as did the brave
knights of old, and after speaking of the
heavy cross laid upon her, the sympathetic
faces assured me that she would never
again lack champions She very soon
learned that we were her friends and
spent most of her time in the school-room.
One day during the dinner hour the chill
and as there was some necessary work
awaiting my return, I left them in Mar
gery's care while completing it. How do
accidents so often happen! Who can tell,
who explain theml Suddenly Con Dawson
rushed into the room screaming: 'They'r
on fire; they're burning upr'
1t took but moment to grasp a shawl
hanging near the door, but ere l reached
the frightened children l saw that Margery
was enshrouded in robe of fame. The
shawl smothered the fire, but we saw that
she was terribly burned, and summonIng
assistance she was conveyed to the nearest
farm house.
Con tried to tell me how it occurred.
''You see. Margery tried to keep US all far
enough away from the fire, especially the
girls; but all at once Hattie Hosmer's
apron was afire and her curls began to siz-
zle, and, and-well, she was all right, but
Margery was burning up, so 1 ran for you"
At dusk a messenger came to the inn, and
we learned that we must go Immediately if
we wished to see Margery alive.
Itwas very dark in the valley, but golden
light hung over the mountains crest as we
drew near the cottage. Outside an old
negress was grooming plantation melody
'Oh, de chariot OBJ fire, de chariot OBJ fire.
and as l lifted the latch Margery's eager
voice was saying: Listen Ihear the sound
of wheels. He Is coming at last"
AS the doctor dressed the terrible burns
q wellremembered verse came to mind
'There appeared horses of fire and chariot
of fire." and thanked God that in place ol
| parting, it here meant for two souls 9
| blessed reunion.
Before leaving for the night wonderful
| change came over the face, and we knew
that for her "the long disquiet was forever
merged into perfect rest"
The directors ordered that there should bt
no school until after the funeral, and at the
| scholars request asked that she might bt
buried from the school-house. We trimmet
| the room as il for bridal, with festoons o.
the Virginia creeper and great punches o.
fall asters and golden-rod, for, said The
children, "she loved flowers so, and we
know she is happy now" We covered tht
poor burned hands with bunch of brillian
| sumac leaves.
AS the preacher read: 'Greater love hatl
no man than this, that man lay down hi:
| life for his friend little Con Dawson whis
| pered to me: 81 am SO glad that we were
| really her friends"
! The sumac leaves have turned crimson
and gold many times since then, but never
| see bunch of the brilliant foliage withoui
thinking OF that quiet hamlet in the Vir
| ginia mountains, and how Margery went
home.-Mrs. s. NJ. Riley, in Detroit Fres
| Press.
DiRTYING THE RUG.