The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1891-01-22

biili eAlHb Ii qulte u phenomenon IN ttS
way, for accidents have beset all the
days OF my life,
Perhaps the closest CALI ever had
occurred some three years ago, when
1 was member OF the Hall Theatrical
Company. We were journeying from
Kimball to Scranton when IL happened
by 'itn mean that memorable rail-
road accident that cost so many people
their lives. Three OF our company
were killed, and the most of us were
more or less injured. I--unlucky
wretchi--had leg broken, and was
taken to the hospital, where l endured
many long, long week OF agony. /
think the pain suffered was quite as
much mental as physical; and when
they said / was deiirlous, l believe 1
had simply gone mad for q sight of
the dear old footlights.
One day, when was 80 far conva-
leseent as to he able to sit up in
chair Jack Callahan-a member of our
company. who had received a few
slight bruises in the accident, painful
enough, however, to confine him to his
bed for days, and TO detain him In
Scranton until then-called TO see me.
Dear old Jacki How delighted was
to see him, and how we did talk We
discussed every known subject, and
were beginning to explore the un-
known, when Jack, who was still far
from icing strong, rose and said he
must go. He had Just offered me his
hand at parting when resident nurse
passed through the room. Jack must
have had a good look at her face, al
though she did not turn it toward us
indeed, she seemed unconscious OF our
presence, and was evidently In a
hurry-for he fell back in his chair
like fog, and muttered something
which sounded like
Margaret here!n
what is the matter, old fellow?' I
asked, tightening my grasp on his
hand, which 1 still held. Anything
iii be all right In a moment he
replied. II am still a little weak and
giddy, you know, and the least thing
knocks me over. Beside, / think It
would be quite shock, even If / were
In full health, to find Margaret
OGrady, whom haven't seen for five
years, In the garb Of a hospital nurseln
You know herr"
"Yes; we were born and bred in the
same town.
Then you must know something
about her. / confess she has often
aroused my curiosity and interest /
nave natNiitu ItI udN uuItE uhY. Il
think she has the most divine face /
ever saw. Come, Jack, tell me all you
know of her,
Some other day." he said, rising
hastily.
mo, mol" 1 cried. THAT won't do.
Some other day is altogether too
vague. want the story now. am
sure there is story back of that face,
and shall die Of curiosity If ] don't
hear it. Do, Jack, humor the within of
an invalid. Think how lonely he gets
at times, and how much he longs for
something to occupy his mind while
This allusion to my unfortunate leg
seemed to soften him; he reluctantly
resumed his seat, and spoke as fol-
lows:
you can't expect me, Joe, to begin
in the true storytelling fashion, as l
lay no claim to the title OF author. 1
will simply say that John O'Grady,
Margaret's father, was an freshman
| who contrlved TO amass considerable
money. Her mother hadn't drop of
irish blood in her veins, and SO far as
religion goes, was an out and out
heather. Margaret was an only child.
lhey literally worshiped her, and from
| the time she was born she ruled them
with q rod OF iron. Nobody ever
crossed her In anything, and she grew
up pretty much as she pleased. She
never attended any regular school,
but studied and read any books that
took her fancy. As for religion-why,
she never SO much us saw the inside OF
church. The consequence was that
by the time she was eighteen she was
like beautiful wild animal-untamed
nntutored, self-willed. Yet, in spite OF
everything, one could not help loving
her, she was so very beautiful and had
such pretty, imperious ways.
Zone day she conceived the idea that
she would like to go TO Europe; the
wish was hardly uttered before ii was
complied with. and the three were OF
and away in an Incredibly short space
OF time. They were gone two years.
and when they returned, brought with
them handsome young Irish strang-
or, James BIckenna by name 1t seems
that Margaret met him at some snm-
mer resort; he fell desperately in love
with her, and she returned his passion
with equal ardor.
well, all went smoothly for while,
and the day set for the nuptials was
rapidly drawing near, when he, poor
fellow, made some remark which gave
Margaret to understand that he was
deyoutly religious. At one time he
had even thought of studying for the
priesthood. but had given up the idea,
deeming himself unworthy of such
high calling.
Margaret flew into rage at once
and told him that she had no creed, no
belief, that she hated all such non
sense, and that he must either re-
nounce his religion or her. A scene
followed, and the upshot of it was
that Mckenna vowed to dedicate his
life henceforth and forever to the
church. That ended it; In moment
more he had left the house.
Soon after MclKenna's departure
for parts unknown l secured an en-
gagement with certain theatrical
company and went away from home.
| was gone number of years, and
when l finally took run down to Me-
dina was surprised to find how much
the old town and the people in it had
changed daring my absence. Marga-
ret's father and mother were both
dead, and she had entered the Medina
hospital on trial as n nurse. | wanted
to see her, so called at the hospital for
that purpose. One of the surgeons,
most gentlemanly fellow, informed
me that Margaret was busy; a priest,
III trying to snatch II child from under
runaway horses feet, had been
Knocked down, run over, and fatally
inJuredi he had been brought to the
hospital and taken to Margaret's ward;
nobody knew anything about him-he
was stranger In Medina-and he
could not possibly live more than an
hour. Margaret was doing all she
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