The Forrest City times., 1891-11-20

erations: don't care to hear such idle talk" said Elizabeth in great annoJ J- | ance, hastening her steps
 ''Oh, wait, dearv," said tho old woman, clutching her cloak with bird claw fingers, ''i'm not going much further with you. How IS your hon ored father and mother?"
 They are we'll" said ElizaLet, briefly.
 "Now, I suppose, Elizabeth, you haven't heard any word from P-com pense King. I see last Sabbath his mother and the two maids have put on mourning tor him. would liAs ta ask you as a friend if you don'L thlrk you are wasting valuable time vait- ing for him? You're gettine on, Elizabeth; why you must be turne1 oi the fust corner-iet me see. you ras ii ve and twenty the thirteenth O. last June. When I was your age l ~.. wife and mother of four children. l.
 going on five years since Reco-re sailed. You are too good looSirg maid to be left to dance in the kettle. These seafaring men are uncertain tn best of times; then there is no doul that these pIrates on the East Ihdi, coast killed them all. They say t-0s Goddess pagans are worse than ou
 Indians. Your sisters are all SC eaieo in comfortable homes of their own. and you are fading, Elizabeth: my ol eyes can see it plain enough, you loo vour age, every day of II, We'll, her is Goodwife Sylvester's. trood-day." Elizabeth, pale and trembling, hur ried out of reach of the onanswerabl maliciousness of the shrill old voice c c. ks<A burnt her cheeks. but the waters O sorrow were absorbed in her pa fen heart and seldom dimmed her sad eye
 She looked seaward-alas. no wh'
 sail was in sight. She looked arorcd
 there was no one near. Loosening h.
 cloak, she pulled out tiny, blacl silk cord from her bosom. At the en hung half a silver sixpense, war;
 with the beating of her true heart love. She silently pressed it to hei | lips and her heart said. I've sha meet again; if not in this life. then
 another, where there shall be D. more sea-"
 | It wanted just one week of Thanr | giving; the greater part of the prep. arations for the day had been made. | Twenty-four toothsome mince pies were ranged about the great pudding on the store-room shelves. The fowl
 to be sacrifice ed were feeding in sep
 arate pen in great amazefnent at their | luxurious fare. Once again the big oven was to be heated and one dozen
 pumpkin pies would be taken there
 from, yellow and crusty. The olo, red cradle was brought
 from the attic. It was fortunately big 1 enough to hold the two youngest grandchildren. The spare beds were 1 airing and every thing was in neatest order. Elizabeth had no time to think of herself, there had been so much to | do. She was weary, body and soul,
 when night came, and sank into her | high-post feather-bed with sigh of relief She drew the snow white mus
 lin curtains and tied her little night ! cap over her ears tightly and tired to
 shut out ..the haunting sound of the
 autumn wind and rain-the distant | sound of the sea that weighed so on
 her poor heart-and fell asleep with a
 prayer upon her lips for 'those who go
 down to the sea m ships"
 Poor Elizabeth" the neighbors
 said, ''is wasting the best years of her
 life waiting for Recompense King. He
 wasas handsome and noble a young
 man as ever sailed from this port, but
 thereis no chance of his being in the
 land @ the living now; if he Is he has
 no ndion of marrying Elizabeth Ed
 wardspr she would hear from him There Ire others who would be will. ing to tep into his shoes-but there, it's no lse talking to Elizabeth, she IS