St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1891-09-17

railway accident in England. By
his will | became heiress to large
wealth, and this house was one OF
nv possessions-this lovely country
house and large grounds, where my
children have been entirely happy
and where my husband could have
the peaceful requirement that he
craved.
He was very sensitive about his
infrmity, fretting over his awk-
wardness in moving about and
never contented unless l was close
beside him, reading to him or guild
ing his hands to some simple employ
ment. AS Mamie, our oldest girl,
became proficient in music, she took
my place for a portion of the day,
and the boys would come with
difficulties in study to ask help and
rouse his interest ; but 1t would have
been very hard for all of US if had
been compelled to earn our bread, as
| must have done had not this
money come to me.
AS it was, my husband slowly
grew reconciled to his hard lot;
learned to grope his way to shady
or sunny spots in the garden, as the
weather was hot or cold; under
Mamie's tuition becamenab BILE to ac-
company his fine voice upon the
piano and found companionship in
music; brushed DIP, with my help, all
his school-book lore, and was ready
for the boys when they required help,
and was dearer to us all in his aff1ic-
ton than he had been when he was
away all day, absorbed in business.
And now, dear. the story ceases to
be my own narrative and comes
from the diary over which l have
shed many bitter tears.
For Stephen HetheringtOn did not
die, as was supposed, in that railway
collision, but found himself, several
weeks later, in a London hospital,
pied for life. He had been entered
there as a Henry Graham, having
grasped the satchel of the man who
was his companion. in the railway
carriage, and left hisyown, by which
his supposed corpsefhad been identi-
fed. Insensible and dreadfully in
jured, he had still kept his hold upon
this bag, and in the confusion the
investigation was not very close.
There was sufficient money about
him to pay his expenses for long
time, as he had drawn a large sum
for a summer sojourn in Norway
and carried it in his pocketbook.
But his papers and such little posses
sions as would have proved his
identity were with his baggage, and
had been already forwarded to me-
When he was sufficiently recovered
to return to America he did so, in
tending to see his lawyers and prob
ably take possession of his so long
vacat ted home But he had been but
a short time in New York unrecog-
nized when the story of my nus
bands misfortune was told to him,
and added to the recital was the &C
count of my good fortune in having
a home and income SO unexpectedly
provided for me.
Then-oh, the tender, generous
heart-then he gave up all intention
of claiming his own property, of
touching my home or adding to my
sorrow Years Of travel, of loneli-
ness had aged him, and the accident
in England had disfgured his face,
so that his old friends passed him by
without recognition.
Secure, then, against my knowing
him, he came here to SilvertOn and
hired little cottage very near this
house, where he earned small sum
by basket-making My boys became
his fast friends, and | constantly
heard of Henry Graham and the
stories he could tell of foreign lands.
Every day, my Stephen, his own
namesake, or some OF the three
others, would come to me for trif1es
to take the old basket-maker, and L,
sure from their own account that
his influence was good, gladly gave
of my plenty for his poverty.
Think of it, Think of his living
for six years AT my gate, in poverty
and toll, and taxing from me in
charity tiny portion of what was
all his own. l seldom saw him, or l
might reproach myself for not recog
nizing him, and making him take |
back the fortune | SO wrOngfully en- |
Oyed; but | was kept so constantly /
with my husband and had SO many |
household and maternal cares, that |
rarely went outside my own prem
ses, taking exercise in the large
grounds, where my husband could
De with me.
But one day-ah! never can l for
get that day.-Stephen, my first
born, came running home from the
Did basket-maker's cottage to tell
ne he was very i'll. The boy was
arr;6a5 n r tho cr5,1a cevere Sicl
less of his old friend, and l hastily
gathered up some simple medicines,
wine and a little sick fixings and
hurried to the cottage.
l cannot tell you more of that day,
lear; the tears would choke me. 1t
5 not SO long past that l can speak
Or even think of it with compOsure.
But | knew all at last. | knew how
nnocently and yet how cruelty | had
brown back true mans love upon