St. Landry democrat., 1890-10-11

that Journey? We went to New ork city. |
There we were married; a friend of his, a |
clergyman, married us, and then Phil took
me to he most beautiful rooms lever saw.
He said that we would stay there while
and then come back here. Oh, was so
hanDv there Esther cried, though every
night cried for you and home. Phil kept
sayin' we'd come back soon.
s'Her pa, Annie held her closer, and put
back the soft hair from the little white
face. and could only look at her with eyes
full of love Then she went on: but as
the time passed Phil grew uneasy, and
finally knew he had tired OF me. Many
nioht he would never come home, and
often it would be four or five days before l
vould see him again. Oh, the misery of
those DAYS. One afternoon l put on the
pretty hat he bought me, and started out
for a walk. l had not seen him for five
davs and was almost mad with grief. AS
was going along the avenue | saw him
come out of an elegant mansion with
lady, Oh. such a beautiful woman, with
proud. cold face, and | saw him help her on
to horse then get on another, and ride
away together. | turned back sick, and
went home That night he came in. lie
gave no excuse for bein' gone so long. lie
was readin', and looked SO gentle and hand
some that l went up to him and put my
arus around his neck, but couldn't say
anvtning He pulled me down Oh his lap
and said, NV beautiful little Esther and
kissed NV lips and neck. Then asked
him who that lady was. Oh, father, moth
or if YOU could have seen his face, he
looked so guilty! lie rose and stood be
fore me and said, 'Essie, do not bother
vour little head about her Then L de-
manded the truth. He grew angry then
and said: DO you want to know, them
She is the woman'I love, and will one day
make nv wife I stood frozen, mother,
but | said Your Wit, When am deadE
and he said, No, Uclore then Then 1
asked him, What am ~ and be told me.
sYou are not my wife, and deceived you.
Essie, wish you hadn't made me tell You
this. Everything would have come right
I turned from him and walked to the WIN
dow. When l faced him again he crieo,
Good God, Essie, darlin', don't look IKE
thatr | only said, will you leave me
alone for while2' but he said: NO, Will
not leave you alone tonight, Essle, child;
you're too badly shaken. Oh, heaven, had
| I not causeo
"Annie, knelt by her pa and could not
| speak. Her pa groaned, but only heId her
| closer, our innocent little baby girl! But
| must finish. Esther went on: The next
| day | left him I believed in him and loved
| him so that it broke my heart. had but
| one idea. to get back here to see you,
to die in your arms, in the Old
home. You believe me, don't you,
| when say believed l was a wife? lmade
one awful mistake, but it's over now.
| i Ioo v1acn ~ rl1ra
1t was so hard, but | am here, and now this
is all. | have brought shame on you, dear
ones, and ruined my own life. God,
father, mother, what shall do"'
Dorothy ceased speaking. Annie felt
crushed with the grief of that young life,
Dorothy said at last: THAT is all, Annie
Two weeks from that night she died. Died
Annie, so young, so tender! Oh, l think
child, our hearts broke that night, but il
was Gods will That last night we knew
she was goin', but we held her in our arms
and soothed her Just before she died she
raised her hands to heaven and cried
Father, mother, what am | up there!
What punishment shall meet? And hel
pa said: Punishment? None, my little
gal, for the angels arnt no purer. Goo
will take you to hisself.' With her little
| tired face on her pas breast she sank away
Her little short, sad life! But she smiled
| as she died, and as we bent to kiss the
little mouth thanked God she went st
gently Two days she lay here in her Que
sleep, in the little white froCk she wore be
fore she left US, and the smile on hel
little waxen face. Then her pa and rnt
carried her out yonder in the mOrnin' SUI
and laid her under the old tree. Her Pc
dug her grave and with our hearts burstln
we placed her in it. Nohands touched he
but ours, and we put her beside her babe
Look out there under that tree. There sht
has laid these twelve years, through thu
rain and d-snows, with her pa beside her
Yes, he died four years after her and an
left alone. watched him sink away, N,
dear man! Forty-two years we had worked
and loved together, and now l miss him
Annie, miss him. Just before he diet
he said in whisper, 'Dorthy, darlin', well
be there waitin', us three and I knew
then he thought of the little one. thinl
Esther's death killed him."
'And did you never hear of-of him."
eyes, child. He is great painter, the.
say. He is rich and honored, and stand
likely in the sight of men. His victim lay
yonder, but what does it matter, child, at
ter all? He is bad man, but in HEAVIER
all will be we'll. am alone now, but som
day will 60, too. VINO will carry me on
there by my darlin' man and child dom
know, but some one will. Now, dear, dr.
your pretty eyes and come in with me-"
Annie Weston rose and threw her arm
round old Dorothy's neck. Il love you
Mrs. Barr. Tomorrow we will go dow
there, and will put some flowers on thei
graves as my Offering"
Eyes, dear. But, child, I have told m
child's story. Is she pure in your mind?"
Annie looked into the withered old fac
and said softly, "As pure as the angelsl
The breeze sighed low over three graves
and the old tree rustled gently, "Amen!
M. 2. Ats in St. Paul News.