Democratic Northwest. [volume] (Napoleon, Ohio) 1869-1894, 1890-09-25


But she had scarce put the cup
down when sudden dizziness smote
her, and when she rose to leave the
place the room seemed to reel about
her, and staggering forward she fell
heavily against the chairs. The mock
ing walters, in obedience to the fash
ionsble dressed man, put her in q
carriage, and he got in with her and
shut the door, while the coachman
rolled away on his dastardly errand to
another part Of the city.
The summer months passed quickly
by, and fall came on with its brilliant
foliage garnishing forest and hillside,
till the winter snow put their glory,
and dressed the striped boughs and
naked trunks with her white feathery
robes. For long weeks she spread
over the city a coating of ice, and
breathed her frosty breath upon it, till
the fair spring broke from the wintery
bondage and clothed the earth with
verdure again.
1t was on one of the early nights of
spring when Annie Lane walked quiet
ly homeward from the little church
which she attended. She was only a
working girl, and lived, as dohundreds
of others, in tiny furnished room.
But she was pure, swest girl, with a
face shining with the Christ-love, and
eyes mirroring the noble, loyal soul
behind them.
Her way lay, for block, along a
dangerous street, lined on either side
by brilliantly lighted, gaudy houses.
She Involuntary quickened her
pace here, and hurried past with beat
ing heart. Suddenly, just before her,
a great door was thrown open, letting
blaze of light shine out across the
pavement, while mans figure stood
there in momentary struggle, and
then with a dull thud woman's body
was flung violently down from step to
step to the ground, and the heavy
doors closed rentlessly behind it.
The young girl bent over the pos
trate form at her feet, and raised to
her knee a face as young as her own,
but thin and wasted with fever, and
lined with the awful marks of misery
and degradation.
'Mother--mother - murmured
the pale lips, brokenly.
Have you no where to go?' asked
pittying Annie Lane.
The girl opened her eyes YEARLY.
Thought it was mother; but I'll
never see her again. No, I've nowhere
to go. But'-she spoke with difficult
ty-it don't matter-I'll-soon--die
anyway
The sudden tears of sympathy rolled
down the others cheeks.
DO you think you could walk q
little way, Just two blocks further on?'
T--l--don't know. I'm so tired to-
night
Anna helped her to stagger to her
feet and then, half car rying her,
moved slowly toward her own little
home. 1t seemed a along walk, and
many times the sick girl stopped to
rest, but they reached the room at last,
and Anna laid her upon her own white
bed and bathed her feverish brow.
All night the sick girl tossed to and
fro IN wild delirium, talking some
times of a far off country home, and
calling mother and sisters and brothers
to come to her, and then in her raw
ings hurled bitter invectives at the man
who had ruined her. But before the
morning light had dawned, the restless
head ceased its rolling, and conscious.
ness came back to the dying girl, and
she looked up at the sweet young face
bending over her.
Il was as pure and as good as you
are once she said, and l had nc
thought that I would ever be an out
cast, black from sin. Oh, God! I did
not know there was such misery in the
world. Tell me- she muttered hoarse-
ly, must I forgive him to 60 to heav-
en-? I promised mother that I'd meet
her there. Is it too late nowT she
cried out, piteously.
THE blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth
us from all sin, answered the other,
earnestly.
But can it cleanse away such SIN
as mine? / never meant to do it--God
knows I didn't
He can save to the uttermost.
Though you sins be as scarlet, they
shall be as white as snow,'' answered
Anna.
'Listenl Let me tell you the story,
and then tell me if He can forgive,
for, oh,I want to see my mother again,
and I promlsed--l promised sure I
should meet her in Heaven
She waited a moment to gather
strength, and then went on:
MY name is Lizzie Wallace. l
came to the citya year ago to get
work. But l walked and walked day
after day and could find nothing to do.
At last my money was gone, and I was
hunprv--oh: so hunpry--and man