Waterbury evening Democrat., 1891-05-19

THEY CONSIGNED HIS BODY to THE DUST.
nature around them-nature, who is so
careless of life.
Men had been "strucll down in the
storm of human passions as the light
ming strikes the oak when the tempest
RACES" and their life and death were
forgotten.
This death, however, was something
different, and there was a pathos in it
which touched these rude men.
They prepared Sandy's body for the
grave which they dug under a tall pine
in their primitive cemetery, and on a
bright Sunday afternoon, the day after
his death, they carried the implanted
pine box which held his mortal re-
mains to their last resting place.
1t was an impressive scene, the
towering background of mountains and
forest, the struggling town and the
brawny men in flannel shirts and top
boots with pistols on their hips, stand
ing beside the open grave, at whose
head stood the pale-faced girl in her
uncouth dress, all listening with sol
emn faces while Gaines read a chapter
from a pocket Bible and spoke few
words setting forth the briefness of
life and the lesson which the patiently
endured suffering through which the
dead man had passed contained for
them all Then they consigned his
body to the dust and quietly dispersed.
"Come, DEAR" said Gaines to Barb,
who stood still at the head of the new
made grave, "let us go. You have q
question to answer for me, and your
utter loneliness, forgive me, dear, If I
pain you, makes It imperative that you
should answer it now"
The girl seated herself upon the grave,
with q white, set face, turned away
from the speaker, but made no answer.
Gaines bent over her as If to assist
her to rise. 'Come, dear" he said again,
firmly but gently.
She flung out her arms with a gesture
of passionate entreaty
leave me alone with himi" she cried,
''only little while, or my heart will
D break. Come to me tonight" and she
made gesture in the direction of her
home, IAN I'll answer you, but not
now. Obi not nowI"
Gaines bowed his head in assent
awed by the intensity of the girls feel
ings, and left her alone with her dead.
The shadows of evening were falling
when Barb YEARLY and slowly climbed
the slope upon which stood the two
: cabins. She saw as she neared Capt
Georges that the curtain before the
window was rolled up and the dool
stood ajar.
"It is sold," she said to herself, ant
her sad heart grew yet heavier and hel
slow step slower.
When she entered the low door of hel
own cabin her heart gave a throb o
terror, for, in front of the empty fire
place, in her fathers chair, sat a figure
She sank into a seat, gazing with di
lated eyes. The figure rose and will
outstretched arms approached her.
Little 'un," said a familiar voice
''I'm sorry for We from my heart.
heard about 1t in the town, my poo
Barb"
1t was he, George, the only one in al
the world who could comfort the girl il
/ her grief
She stared at him as If he were al
apparition.
"Is-can it be--you?" she murmured
Indeed it-is," he said, grasping he
hand heartily.
o But where is she-your-your wife?
81 have no wife, Barb; have ha
O trouble, too, my girl"
]. 'tShe is not-dead?'' gasped Bari
4 sinking back into her chair.
! George drew his own chair to Barb
]. side. He saw that she was sufferin
J. under a mental strain that might prov
disastrous If her mind were allowed I
dwell upon her grief His resolutio
4. was quickly made; he would tell he