Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-05-11

soohSo up. MY 0Oui ana SpranS back with frightened eyes. The white figure stood still, gazing on the floor, ''I have come @you-back- your-own," the lips said.
 70 Celeste! CeleSter' and he sprang toward her with hands extended, .'you are my own! O give me yourself! give me yourselfr' But she wavered back.
 '1 don't care for what he didr' he cried, 'I forgive him for your sake! You have suffered! o you have suf- fered! l am guilty, but I couldn't pain you by staying! l couldn't! I couldn't! I couldn'tr' and he would have fallen before her in the agony of his pleading had not the girl, with cry that might have been the ineffable cry of one come back from death, leaped into his arms, sobbing and kiss ing him with joy.
 ''She had loved him always" she said; ''she had thought him lost to her, driven away by her kinsman's deed! An, God! how happy she was! how happy she wasp
 Thus their naked souls had met, their orphaned hearts had come to- gether, their lips had kissed out the past, and love had brought back to John Earling all that it could of that which hate had wrenched away. They held to each other like two children; they laughed and talked with the tears glistening on their cheeks; the abys- maj path had suddenly emerged into a balm, the savior in Nature, had turned the darkness into regal morning. and their lives were one. The young man held to her hand. his brave, his beauti- full, his loved Celeste! and, turning out the gas; they went down together and away to Mrs. Bowers.
 The street on theIr side of the square was silent and deserted, but a great crowd was on Joel's side, decorous enough at the center, save an occa- sional burst of applause, but royster- ing, mixing, moving on the outskirts. and watched Joel gyrating against a holding fondly to each other passed away into the musky summer dark ness, the soft kind night that shut them in that perfect hour from all the world.
 For years John Earling remembered that last glimpse of Joel as he loomed against the sheet of flame, and remem- bered the last words he ever heard him utter: ''Fellow citizens, a mans life is nothing without success, as nations is nothing without glory; you have helped to make mine what it is, again 1 thank your In an hour after that the young man heard them ringing again in his ears, when told how Joel had spoken for two hours in the dust and heat, and stepping down from the platform at the close, and with the air torn by cheers that drowned his own last cry, had reeled and fallen among the trampling feet; had been carried through the seething crowd, where many yet were cheering wildly for him, and laid down in his store stone dead.
 A blood-vessel in the big mans
 brain, brittle and eaten into by a life
 time of abnormal heat and pressure,
 had torn asunder-as for many in these heated straining days-and his dream, like half the dreams of earth,
 had been swallowed up in darkness,
 that darkness where dreams do never
 come.
 Well, what farther? The writer lifts his head after long and sadly ruminating. Death and error are so SUI anu HI lOSSOiSA ChAo little history have come so often, with out welcome, in at the doorway of his memory. And yet, Death, that is as common as birth, more common than marriage, and kinder, perhaps, than either, why should it not be welcome to narrative of LifeP Lo, it is life's s one supreme event, and To, by it we come, perhaps, to all that makes life really worth the having, or of worth enough to justify the fact. And yet, and yet-it is gloomy-featured, and for that unwelcome; and when. as here, it enters as dark result pursuing hard upon the heels of error, we cast about in vain, its sadness has no compass in the cloudy speech of men.
 But where are the living elements of this history? An, a long time has gone, long train of gold and somber days, and some are growing old. and one has passed into the shadows, Julius Popp.
 Harry Whitney has grocery store in Openstone, not a very large one, and Yeslit is the mother of his chil- dren. They made radiant social flight with JoePs money, a kind o1 rainbow curve, and lit-not very easy ito find no bag of gold with sack ' OpCn "hcIC IIlG 1dAu0u them. They are digging there; per. l haps in times own fuIlness they may 1 find it, or what is better-common | sense.
 Mrs. Whitney and Reverend Cut. | tleton are one, and now are far along the path of life. They are living snug ly, and we trust not unworthily. upon | the generous third which Joers say. ings brought. Absalom Heater is now | proprietor of Joers big mill, and the ! twins are sober, floury fellows like
 their father, a strangely, honest, up right pair.
 But what of John Earling anG Celeste and their philosophy? Full oi
 honorable care, one sits upon the Su' ' preme Bench in one of the States oi \ this, our noble federation. All meI trust him, most men love him. Be cause he was honest, because he wal \ just, he has won, and because of these