Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1889-08-16

fered so much that she thought Of death as
"A relief and TO make il another agony was
impossible But if she did this thing she
wanted TO do it surely to make no mis-
take and who can be sure of narcotic ,
She had known of more than one misera-
BILE creature who by force and the skill of
doctors had been brought back TO life Her
escape should not thus be hindered To
shoot or to hang herself was impossible to
her But to go away silently and quietly
and trouble no one, that seemed TO her a
most fitting and proper thing to do. She
did not know that Pliny had said before
her that it is a proof Of the goodness of
Heaven that while life has but one entrance,
it has many exits, but she thought Of it Of
ten and often.
And so, having come to the end of all
she knew, and seeing nothing before her,
she believed that the time had come for her
departure, and she went on TO her destined
place without any desperate feeling what
ever. There was perhaps no one on the
excursion who was more quiet than Agnes;
and she even smiled being amused because
she had in her pocket a return ticket. She
was noticed by every one near her as be.
ing so forlornly unlike the others she was
alone, and it was easy to see, was both
poor and sick. But no one guessed how
|
she did that sleep was awaiting her As
for the hereafter, she had no fear whatev-
er, being quite sure that her Father knew
how wretched was her life and how useless
In some other world there might be both
happiness and work for her, and 10 it she
would 20.
When she reached the sea shore she stop
ped at store, bought some bread, and
then wandered away by herself, and all
day she staid down on the beach, and
watched the tide 20 out and then come in.
The sky shone over it all, and the fresh
winds blew on her thin and sunken cheeks;
but no one disturbed her, and the day was
| quiet and very sacred to her. 1t was not a
hasty leave that she was taking of life,
and she could not be sorry to be gone, al
though it was bitter, bitter to feel that she
must do it, when there were so many hap.
| py people who would awake with the morn
ing. And she also remembered that not
one of them would think of her. Poor in
deed was the place she held in life, there
being not one to miss her, or to ask her
not to go.
In the late twilight some boys ran past
the little house where Martha Clarkson
lived, and stopped just long enough to call
in that Jim had been out and brought
woman in. Mrs. Clarkson laid down the
match she had lighted, put back the chin.
ney on the lamp, and went out to the light
house where Jim was on duty. She found
a group of men-some from the life-saving
station. some fishermen-and the light
house keeper standing around the body of
woman who was lying ON the ground
and jim, her son, was among them, still in
his wet clothing. Martha Clarkson pushed
her way through the little group and look
ed down on Agnes. Truly she was a most
pitiful object Her dripping garments
still clung to her meagre figure, her hands
fell away limp on the ground, her hair
clung to her face, and her eyes were part
ly open-sightess, unmeaning eyes. Pow
erty-poverty and trouble lay there EN-
bodied and it made the heart of the old
woman ache. She had borne many griefs,
yet she had never thought of anything but
of living through them. In her family the
men might perish out at sea, but the wom-
en- died in their BEDS waiting until death
came for them.
81 saw her go in," said Jim. "She look
ed around first, but she didn't see me, and |
she took off her bonnet and held it in her |
hand, and walked right down into the wa
ter. The tide was about in, but it was qui- |
et you know, and any of us could have |
stood up and laughed at it. But she went |
down all of a sudden, when it wasn't up to
her waist She didn't throw herself over, |
but wave just took her off her feet, and |
down she went. When got out after her ! |
was afeared l wouldn't find her, but | saw
her face once, and then knowed where to
look"
ut didn't do any good" said the light
house keeper "shes swallowed her last
drink of water"
"Who says so :" asked Martha. And
when she heard that Doctor Shields had,
she looked around for him, and then said,
in a loud, clear voice, that DR.. Shieldss opin-
ions were like dreams, and should be taken
contrary. And with that she had Agnes
carried into the lighthouse, and she and
the life-saving guards went to work, and
after a while poor Agnes opened her eyes,
and saw the same world to which she had
vainly tried to say farewell.
As there was nowhere else to take her
that night, Mrs Clarkson took her home to
her house. and made her comfortable. She
went in through the night very often and
looked at Agnes, who slept like a child
and in the morning Mrs Clarkson began to
nurse Agnes. She already was interested
in her because it was Jim and she who had
restored her to life, and day by day she
tried TO strengthen and nourish her. Ag-
nes accepted all that was done for her.
Never was any one more passive. She did
not understand what else to do. She had
so parted with life that it now eluded her,
and she could not catch hold of it again
and moreover, she was very inert, and af-
ter time it was found that her right arm
was stiffened so that she moved it with
difficulty.
All summer she staid with Martha. How
could she break away and depart when
there was no one to whom she could go
She could not work, and as for starving,
of that she had had enough. And Martha
was glad to keep her. She could sew, even
with her stiff arm, better than Martha
could, and she pleased and entertained
them all. Jim came home every day, be-
cause the house was more alive with this
gentle creature in it and the boy of the
family loved her stories next to sailing.
She taught Hiram-this boy-tO read when
winter came and now, indeed, they were
glad to have her company, shut in as they
so often were that stormy year.
In the spring Jim was drowned. He lost
his life at last saving others and when
Agnes, weeping with Martha, cried out
that there was nothing she could do for one
who had done so much for her-because
Agnes was now reconciled to life, and at
rest-Martha took her in her arms, and
begged and implored her to turn the boy
from thoughts of the sea. 1t had swallow
ed her husband and taken her son, and she
could not give it all that was left to her
And after this Agnes gave herself to
this work-to keep the boy from the ocean.
But it was the teaching of water to run up
hill The blood of fishermen and sailors
coursed through his veins all the tradi-
tions of his life were of ships and the very
stories his mother told had the salt of the
sea in them. He drew his brows together
and looked sullen when the women asked
him to keep out of the boats and many
night he climbed from his window and went
fishing alone.
But at last Agnes discovered that next
to the sea Hiram loved machinery, and she
set herself to making him love it better
She said no more against the sailor but
turned all her thought and words to ma
chinery. She bought a natural philosophy,
and together the two studied mechanics and
everything else the book contained, so they
clearly understood it, They also made a
pasteboard locomotive, and when they were
they went together TO the rail
road, and the engineers showed them what
ever they asked about And so it came at
last that Hiram had situation on the road
and he became an engineer, and then per
fected the invention that has made him
rich. But the idea of the invention came
from Agnes, because once when working
on the pasteboard model they made mis-
take, ard she rectiied it on hint given
her by sewing machines. 1t was this hint
that Hiram afterward applied and worked
upon.
And so Agnes grew to rejoice in her life
having Hiram TO save for his mother, and
both of them to love and to serve. Hiram
was good son TO the two women, and when
his mother died, he and Agnes went to Rus
sia together, and from there TO China, and
she was proud of his prosperity, and he
was full of interest in everything, aud
never failed i'm his tender Affection for her