The Carbon advocate. [volume] (Lehighton, Pa.) 1872-1924, 1890-04-12

ships as they plowed the smooth surIace
Of the bay. Boat after boat passed by
on its way to Montreal. Sometimes the
sounds Of musical instruments were
heard. Sometimes voices sang in ex-
quisite harmonies, that echoed among the
trees stretching for three miles back Of
the tents, The moon rose over the bay
in solemn beauty, and gave her light 50
generously that no lamps were needed
within the white walls. When ell else
was quiet there still could be heard the
tapping Of the waves upon the pebbled
beach, and the occasional splashing of a
fish in the bay.
Mr.. Carpenter rose at daybreak every
morning and, passing Mrs Secords tent,
wandered up and down the beach. "He is
waiting for the sunrise, the lady would
say TO her husband as, drawing aside the
door Of her tent, she would watch the old
man upon the shore, his long white beard
blown aside by the wind that freshened
from the south.
Nine. La Londe arrived in August.
"DOes he expect mef" she asked Of her
sister when they were alone.
mot today" answered Mrs. Seoord;
''he knows that you are coming, but Ibid
not tell him just when you would be
here"
Then followed considerable planning as
to how the gentleman should be informed
Of the arrival of his old sweetheart Alice's
impulse was to rush to him at once. Il
must see him" she cried. "I have waited
twenty years, and that is long enough. "
''But, my child" answered Mrs. Secord,
''the morning never breaks suddenly, the
transition would be too severe, it would
be painful. We must give him the gray
Of the morning first and then the golden
SUNRISE"
Il was now late in the afternoon, so il
was decided that Mrs. Secord should
spend the night with her sister in the tent
prepared for her, and Alice should awaken
at daybreak, dress herself, and, just as
Mr.. Carpenter was passing, allow him tc
hear her voice in some old, familiar song.
The family thought the arrangement a
fine one, and SO the little widow was kept
out of sight all the evening. Mr.. Carpen.
| ter thought he noticed an unusual ex-
citement on the part of different mem.
beEs Of the family, and he said toihimself
'She IS comingI There is light in the
eastE
The next morning was a glorious one
The air was sweet with a fragrance Of
wild flowers, and the soft breeze brought
the sound Of sheep bells from the distant
fold. When Mr.. Carpenter passed the
tent where the ladies had spent the
night, he heard voice which at first III
thought to be Mrs. Secord's, but, listen
ing again, he recognized an old song
which he bad sung scores Of tinel
to Alice in the long ago. Could 1t be-
it must be--and yeti The old man helt
his head with his hands and sank dowr
upon rude bench near by. Then cam'
the voice again, sweeter than any hi
had ever heard, fuller and deeper, ant
trembling with emotion, singing the OLE
song:
'sfhereS light In the east; iol It's morning,
A brighter light shines than the light OF yol
sky,
Transcendent the beam Of thy love laeeasyel
Eclipsing the light Of the morning.
'sFhe world % awake, birds are singing,
A melody sweeter sing thou TO my SOUL
And all thro' my being the music will roll
Ny heart ia Rwakel come with singingr
Long before Alice had finished tn
song the good man had fallen to hi
knees, and, with tears streaming dow
his face, was now murmuring, HGod 0
the morningl receive the thanlrsgiVinI
Of heart too full for utteranee."
Alice gave joyful cry and rushed t
him. He held her to his breast for som
moments, then led her away to his tent
OF course the family were all astir b
this time. When they had bTealrfaste
Mr.. Secord took boat and a pair G
strong oars, and rowed hastily to Belle
vile. From there he sent this Telegram
TO their clergyman in Kingston: Autumn
and Winter have met. Come at once"
The clergyman arrived that evening
and the next morning, standing besid
the waters of the Bay of Quinte an
bathed in the glorious light OF an ur
elouded sunrise, these two happy one
were united forever.
Mr.. Carpenter lived until the summe
Of 1882 ''There will never be any NOR
night, he often said; ''it will always b
morning, either here or there Whe
he died the shadows fell around Alic'
but only for short time, for soon st
closed her eyes 10 the autumnal tints {
her life and opened them to the beauti'
Of an eternal springtime.-Eya Rol
York in Toronto Globe.