The Middleburgh post. [volume] (Middleburgh, Snyder Co., Pa.) 1883-1916, 1889-12-05

| the butternut shaded walk, which was
not the shadow OF tree or bough. Sopby
| Allerton had succeeded in creeping ont
| Of the house without disturbing Uncle
/ Joshua Hale's conscience sweet slum-
! bers.
"Thcre!" cried Sophy to herself, be-
! fore she had reached the big white pine
tree at the Cross Roads. ~ forgot to
blow out my candle. and it's too late to
90 back now But it's all right; it will
burn down to the socket and go out.
And, after all, it will be no very great
waste, for the candle was Only an inch
long"
And so Sophy kept on her way to
where Lizzie Larkspur and Albert Bates
that young lady's sturdy cavalier
were awaiting hcr coming, not without
impatience.
We'll, the bail was a grand affair, rs
country balls 20, with plenty OF lights,
! bunting, evergreen boughs, and fiIdles.
| Sophy had never danced so much ut one
time in all her life before and all was
going emery as marriage bell, )" when,
standing by the door, tanning herself
after quadriIle, she heard a man, who
had ridden up on horseback, say some
thing to another man about "big fire"
up toward Lees Valley.
"Fire" cred Sophy, eagerly. "What
| fircl Where Is it!'
The man could not exactly say. He
was q stranger in these parts. But as
| he rode through the little settlement of
Lees Valley he had heard tidings of a
lonely farmhouse being just burned to
the ground, and its only tenant, Il solitary
old man, burned to death.
Every drop of blood in Sophy Aller-
tons veins seemed to CONCEAL to ice as
| she listened to this unconscious messen-
ger of evil tidings. Poor, helpless I'm
Gle Joshual And the candle she had so
carelessly left burningl At once her
mind reverted to every possibility of
evil; she could see the red shafts of lurid
flame rising upward; the clouds of
smoke; she could hear Uncle Joshua's
unavailing cries for help, and it was all
! through her wild, wicked folly!
She looked around for Lizzie and Al
bert; they were whirling through the
maaes of polka at the other side of the
I floor.
II can't wait for them," she mur-
INJURED, unconscious that she was speak
ing aloud, and catching up the shawl
| that lay nearest, she mufflcd herself in
its folds, and set off, all alone, through
/ the starry dark of the summer morning.
For it was well-nigh on to three o'clock
by this time.
And, through all the surging confusion
of her thoughts, one horrible reflection
rose up constantly. If Uncle joshua
! dear, kind Uncle Joshua, who was the
only father She had ever knowingly dead
in the ashes Of the burned farmhouse,
what better was she, Sophy Allerton,
than a murderess.
1t was only about five miles, and Sophy,
like most country girls, was good
walker, but the last mile, after she had
passed the old stone church, with its
square tower, seemed actually intermina-
| BILE.
Hush Footsteps! No need to shrink
I behind the tall growth of elder bushes
/ that skirted the road, for in another sec
ond she recognized the round -shouldered
figure and slouching gait of Obadiah Car
stairs.
''Wall, YUM" quoth that parsonage.
"Blest if didn't think you was II ghost |!
Been TO the ball, ehi"
She caught his arm. "Tell me, Oba-
diah--the fire."
"Just come from there, " said Obadiah
"All burned to the ground, and Eliakim
IIawley only just saved. He would go
back ar;er that old leather money-bag o.
his n. Serve him right TO let him burn,
| say ii he was so sot on it"
Sophy caught for breath. "Then it
was not our housei'
"Your house! No, not bya long chalk.
1t was Eli0kim IIawley's, down by the
Valley postofice, And you was afeerd
it was yourn, eh, poor childl No, no;
your house is all safe enough. Coin
home, eh? WALL with chuckle,
''young folks will be young folks, and
won't tell your uncle nothin' about 1t u
Sophy colored an angry and mortified
scarlet
81 shall tell him myself" said she.
And when Uncle Joshua opened his
kindly blue eyes on the soft light Of the
summer dawn, his niece was kneeling
sobbing by his bedside.
"Why, Sophy, childG" cried Uncle
Joshua, scarcely certain that he was not
yet wandering in the mazes of dream.
Whats the trouble2"
And Sophie confessed all to him-hci
temptation, her fault, the horrible hours
of remorse she had endured, her relief
and gratitude when she learned at last
that God had been more mcrciful to hei
than she deserved.
"Oh, uucle!" she sobbed, g" vii
never, never attempt to deceive yor
again, if you will only forgive me thii
once"
And Uncle Joshua's tender kiss upor
her brow sealed the pardon without any
necessity of words.
Poor Sophy! she had learned through