The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1890-11-13
xIL.-CoNCLUsIoN.
Ry BILL, NYE Illustrated by Vt. q.
SPRAGUE.
ICopyriCht AN rights roserved.l


Across the peaceful bosom of the great
plains no sound disturbed the night save
now and then when at long intervals the
shadowy figure of coyote crossed an
aisle in the sage brush, and opening his
swapping, drooling jaws gave forth that
Justly celebrated dietonic scale of his
which is so well calculated to call out
the goose pinples even on the death
mask of Methuselah.
Even the wind trod softly over the
scorched and withered grass, and the
well fabricated moon stole in and out
among the clouds without q creak, with
the exception Of Bitter creek, of course,
which laved its allzali shores in the eter-
nal solitudes, and bleached still whittier,
as the years went by, the snowy bones
of those who once had sought to invade
this great undertaking establishment of
nature-this petrified hush of centuries.
But what sound is this that gently
beats rlpon the tense drum Of the listen
ers ear?
The distant jar and gentle palpitations
Of coming train from the west!
Scarcely do we hear this and catch the
yellow twinkle of d headlight when an
other muified rear from the east and
little crawling light growing rapidly cut
Of the dusk and distance swallow the
intervening miles, and in a flash the two
screaming, snorting, painting monsters
have met like mail clad giants in
mighty tournament.
Come to the bridal chamber, Death
Come TO the mother when she feels
For the first time Eer FIRST borns breath;
Come when the blessed seals
Which close the pestence are broke,
And crowded cities vail its stroke.
Come in Coasunpton's ghastly form.
The earthquakes shock, the oceans storm;
Come when the heart beats high and warm
With banquet, song and dance and wine,
And thou art terrible. Tho tear,
The groan, the knel, the plll, the bier,
And all we know or dream or fear
Of agony art thia;e.
But to the heart. where love is dead,
And hope is kneeling DER its bier,
Thy face with Joy is overspread,
And SO lights out with bounding tread
The soul that only sorrowed here.
When Lena awole with this dull pain
in her head she felt certain that she was
dead, and was almost tickled to death to
think that her sad heart would soTrow
no more and that Harry was free; but
almost at once came tho smell of hot
vaynish and the slight suspicion of an
overdone Porter who ought to be turned
over.
"Great Gawd. she said, as her breath
came in brief pants, s|the car is on fire.
must so away"
To a spectator who might have seen
the collision it would have seemed i'm
| possible that living thing could come
out Of this terrible wreck and holocaust;
but ere long a venerable apple worm
crawled out Of the cool side of nice
eating apple, and seeing that he could
be of no further use on board the train,
came out of the car and skunk away in
| the darkness
Soon the cheerful car stove begins to
get in its work, ana the chaos of broken
woodwork begins to burn, at first slow
", then, as the swift winds of the
plains catch it, the red blaze leaps out
and greets the frightened night with a
cackling laugh.
i To go back to iIr. Crawford, at Chi
cago, with the author is but the work of
an instant.