Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1891-07-22

gether, these two who loved each
other so. All me what dreams
But things had begun to look SER
ious now. Duns had begun to call
regularly, the color bills stood un-
paid, and when an unusually sharp
letter came threatening proceedings
for recovery, lot of the best sketches
were gathered together and sent off to
dealer, where, after an interval, they
were anctioned off for mere pittance.
At last, however, the duns ceased
to trouble-they had heard that their
unfortunate debtor was i'll, seriously
i'll. 1t had come-the long sickness
which he had felt so sure would set
him free. He was in the lowest trough
of typhoid. had been for three weeks,
and complication was feared which
might involve typhus. Meantime. in
response to an invitation from the
Exhibition Committee, his wife had
sent up what work he had-all but
finished as it NASHVILLE he lay on
the dim confines of the unseen, far
from sight or sound of earth, babbling
with weird fervour of the beauty he
saw in everything, babbling whole
stanzas of Wordsworth's limitations
Of Immortality.
"Will he live, doctor?" queried his
wife, with even lips and anguished
eyes, one day when his life seemed
ebbing away in interminable sleep.
eyes, he will live. but it has been
close shave. The utmost care will be
needed to complete his recovery. A
case like this is heavy drain on the
system, but caution and care will
bring him round.
Caution and care Ay, all that
life could give or love suggest, if he
would only come back to her. Kneel-
ing there with her cheek pressed
close to his poor white skeleton of
hand, always so snail and nervous,
but now transparent and shadowy as
that of a ghost in a vision of the
night. The days and nights passed
drearily while she watched by him,
waiting to welcome him Blackjack
to life and love and hope. At length
he opened his eyes and smiled, recog-
nizing her. Convalescence progress
ed till he fully came to himself.
"Madge," he said, one day some
what suddenly.
Eyes, dear"
Bring me the garden canvas, will
you, want to look at it for minute"
1T is not here, dear. it was sent
away"
"Oh Well, the other-the child
in the meadow-grass."
at is gone, too. The Exhibition
Committee sent, asking you to con-
tribute, and l sent up what you had"
A CLEAN of pleasure lit up his fine
eyes at this token Of artistic apprecia-
ton of his work.
"What pity they weren't finished.
I know now just what they wanted.
It is all as plain as day now; /
could finish them now without any
trouble. What day is this 7"
Thursday"
Dear me, then l must have been
sick more than week. What is that
in the garden, roses? Roses in Aprill"
April? 1t was the middle Of June,
and he had been i'll for eight weary
weeks-but she evaded an answer by
slipping her hand under his head, and
holding to his lips cup Of beef tea.
He drank the strengthening draught
gratefully.
"That is delicious y he said. Then
his eve fell on his own hand and he
turned to her with surprise and in
terrogation.
"Why is this My hand is wasted
to shadow"
"You have been very i'll, DEAR" the
little woman replied, somewhat husk-
lily, in spite Of her self control.
"Ah," he exclaimed with glowing
eyes, that is why ! feel so clear. l
told you I woald feel better when /
had had a severe illness. know my.
self and my brush now, oh, YOU will
soon see the difference. No more